After Old Master Li left, Zhen Niang and Luo Wenqian stood silently facing each other, wordless for a moment. Finally, Luo Wenqian rubbed his nose and said, “I made you worry.”

“Yes, I was quite worried,” Zhen Niang nodded seriously, then curved her lips into a smile. Her previous anxiety and unease had now dissipated like smoke.

Luo Wenqian let out a low, soft laugh. Then, suddenly, he reached out his hand, his cool fingers wiping across Zhen Niang’s forehead.

Zhen Niang wasn’t embarrassed, but Luo Wenqian’s sudden movement surprised her, and she looked at him with astonishment.

Luo Wenqian held his hand before Zhen Niang’s eyes—his broad palm with long fingers showed a smudge of gray-black on the index and middle fingertips. “You’ve got soot on you,” he said.

“Ah! I just came from the ink workshop with my grandfather. You know, we’re preparing for next year’s tribute ink competition,” Zhen Niang explained with a light exclamation.

She was about to wipe it herself, but suddenly her raised hand was gently caught by Luo Wenqian. He held one of her hands while using his other hand to pull at his sleeve, gently wiping her forehead as he said in a low voice, “Let me wipe it—you can’t see it yourself.”

“Mm.” Zhen Niang stopped moving, naturally allowing Luo Wenqian to wipe the soot from her forehead. The warmth from their clasped hands made her slightly uncomfortable, yet it carried a unique kind of warmth.

They were close enough to hear each other’s heartbeats.

“There, done,” Luo Wenqian lowered his hand. Zhen Niang gave a soft laugh.

At that moment, fine rain began to sprinkle down.

“It’s raining again,” Luo Wenqian said, quickly pulling his sleeve up to shield Zhen Niang’s head. They ran together to the covered corridor, then looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Afterward, Zhen Niang sat on the wooden railing by the corridor while Luo Wenqian leaned against a pillar, and he began telling her about the situation in Shanxi. Naturally, Zhen Niang had to ask about the Righteous Merchant of Shi Zhou.

Speaking of the Righteous Merchant, Luo Wenqian rubbed his nose, appearing modest about others’ exaggerations: “I’m just an ordinary merchant. At such a time, I could barely protect myself, let alone care about others’ lives. But watching group after group being slaughtered, household after household being burned, seeing blood everywhere, and watching the Tartars’ grotesque smiles—even a stone man couldn’t bear it. I thought, what good is it for us merchants to earn all the wealth in the world?

The court is weak, and back in the northern territories, who would willingly give others the gold we worked so hard to mine? Ultimately, for our safety and to protect our wealth, several brothers were willing to let me give half the gold mine to General Qi to maintain his army. But while one General Qi can protect our gold mine, can he protect this vast land? Once the Tartars invade, thousands in wealth will be plundered, and lives will be slaughtered like pigs and dogs. I was furious then, thinking what use was wealth? So I offered that reward. Thinking about it now, I was indeed presumptuous—how much could I accomplish alone? Fortunately, several local wealthy households joined in, and even the brothers from Mount Lüliang only asked me to treat them to meat and wine afterward. Truly righteous men!”

Luo Wenqian spoke softly, both stirred with emotion and deeply bitter.

Zhen Niang could feel Luo Wenqian’s pressure—who wouldn’t be affected after witnessing such a massacre? He would likely have nightmares for many nights.

Therefore, she said nothing more, just gently placed her hand over his where it rested on the railing.

At that moment, the sweet fragrance of warmed wine wafted from the kitchen.

“Brother Luo, the wine is warmed. Let’s go drink,” Zhen Niang said, gently tugging at Luo Wenqian’s hand.

“Yes, let’s drink,” Luo Wenqian said with renewed spirit and a hearty laugh. As they were about to run back to the hall, he stopped and asked Zhen Niang: “By the way, does your father still have dealings with the Qin family?”

“The Qin family? You mean the ones who saved my father?” Zhen Niang stopped and asked. Truthfully, while she had long heard of the Qin family’s reputation, she had never met them.

“Mm.” Luo Wenqian nodded.

“At the beginning of the year, the Qin family wanted my father to partner with them in opening a business, but my father needed to tend to the ink workshop, so he declined. The Qin family seemed to have some matters to attend to, so with the year almost over and no one from their family coming by, my father hasn’t had any dealings with them lately,” Zhen Niang thought and replied. Then she looked up at Luo Wenqian and asked tentatively, “What’s wrong?”

Regarding the genealogy’s record, combining it with current facts, Zhen Niang deduced that their current eighth branch had made their fortune abroad and had planned to take back the Li ink from Li Jincai.

In that record, the eighth branch had been beheaded on charges of collaborating with the Tartars. The record was brief, and Zhen Niang couldn’t guess the specific circumstances, but she had a vague feeling it might be connected to the Qin family. After all, her father couldn’t possibly have contact with the Tartars now, and their only connection to the northern territories was through the Qin family.

However, since the Qin family had saved her father’s life and were separated by great distances, Zhen Niang couldn’t know their situation and didn’t want to make baseless speculations.

“Some things aren’t good to speak of now, but I’m fairly certain the Qin family has connections with the Tartars. I heard from some bandits in Lüliang that the Qin family often cooperates with the Tartars to rob merchant caravans for business competition,” Luo Wenqian said.

“You mean the incident with my father’s merchant caravan might have been the work of the Qin family and the Tartars?” Zhen Niang’s eyes widened. This was completely unexpected.

“I can’t be certain yet. I’ve asked people to investigate this matter. In any case, tell your father to be careful with the Qin family. While we must repay the debt of saving his life, we shouldn’t be blind to reality.”

“Alright, I understand,” Zhen Niang nodded solemnly.

Seeing Zhen Niang’s serious expression, Luo Wenqian gave a low laugh: “Mm, don’t worry too much.”

“I understand,” Zhen Niang smiled too.

Then they ran back to the house one after another.

In the hall, the eight-immortals table was already set with wine and dishes, and the warmed wine was steaming. Seeing Luo Wenqian enter, Li Jingfu pulled him over to drink. Even Old Master Li was happy today and let Zhen Niang pour him a small cup, which he sipped contentedly.

They didn’t speak of the Shanxi matters, naturally talking instead about next year’s tribute ink. Old Master Li occasionally asked about the techniques of Luo ink-making. On this topic, Luo Wenqian spoke freely and thoroughly.

Old Master Li listened with interest and then shared his research on the Li family’s Four Harmonies ink method.

Current Luo ink had already incorporated Pan ink methods, emphasizing qi, producing ink marks that were ethereal and vivid. Li ink emphasized accumulation, producing ink marks that were ancient and steady, grand and magnificent.

One could say each had its characteristics but also its shortcomings. Luo ink was too ethereal and vivid, its color unstable and prone to fading, making it difficult to achieve ink-bone quality. While Li ink was steady and magnificent, it was too steady, lacking variation—though it could achieve ink-bone quality, it was like a ‘dead thing.’

Combining these two styles was not easy.

“Li ink is ancient and steady like ‘Earth,’ while Luo ink is ethereal and vivid like ‘Heaven.’ When Heaven and Earth cannot unite, forcing them together would disorder the Five Elements, and ink cannot be formed,” Old Master Li contemplated.

“Grandfather, not necessarily,” Zhen Niang said surprisingly, holding her chopsticks.

“How so?” Old Master Li looked at Zhen Niang—what idea did this girl have now? Beside them, Luo Wenqian watched Zhen Niang with an amused expression.

“Earth’s accumulation can create all things, and humans are the finest of all things. For ‘Earth’ to unite with ‘Heaven,’ it must create ‘Man’—only then can Heaven and Man become one,” Zhen Niang said.

This was a bold hypothesis she had just formed. The reason ink was so revered and collected by the ancients in this era wasn’t just for writing and carving techniques, but because its entire production process was almost like a Way—the unity of Heaven and Man, naturally achieving ink-bone quality.

In the future, when Zhen Niang’s grandfather was researching the ink bone left in ancient inks, he had said that to understand ancient ink, one must understand the Way contained within it.

“Mm, in that case, to combine the great achievements of both Li and Luo ink techniques, we must work on the Li ink,” Old Master Li pondered.

“Old Master, see if it’s like this: Li and Luo ink techniques combine the great vehicle of Heaven and Earth. Heaven and Earth are the universe, and up, down, east, west, north, and south are the universe…” Luo Wenqian contemplated.

“And Earth creates Man, Man unites with Heaven—these are the Three Talents of Heaven, Earth, and Man,” Zhen Niang quickly followed, speaking of combining Li and Luo ink methods into the Three Talents ink method.

At this point, Master Li also slapped the table excitedly: “Three Talents? Yes, first Six Harmonies! That’s it, I need to improve the Li family’s Four Harmonies ink into Six Harmonies ink!”

Each harmony in ink and glue-making added a level of difficulty—Four Harmonies was already excellent, and Six Harmonies would likely be the ultimate achievement. Regardless, through this conversation, the concept of Li ink’s ultimate achievement—the Li family’s Six Harmonies Three Talents ink—had emerged.

“This calls for a big toast!” Luo Wenqian laughed heartily.

So everyone drank, even Zhen Niang had a cup, her face turning bright red and feeling feverish.

Over the next few days, Old Master Li and Zhen Niang, grandfather and granddaughter, seemed possessed, immersing themselves in researching the Li family’s Three Talents ink. The ink workshop’s daily affairs were handled by Li Jingfu and Zheng Fuli.

Sun Wenjie proved himself capable too. After a month of day-and-night study, he had passed several tests, gaining recognition from the workshop’s masters with his solid understanding of various materials. Not content with just knowing materials, he was determined to produce superior smoke ink, and during this time, he threw himself into the smoke workshop, specifically learning about smoke production.

What Zhen Niang didn’t know was that this time would lead to the emergence of Sun ink in the future. Though not as brilliant as the Four Great Clear ink makers, it would achieve considerable success.

As November approached, due to preparations for the tribute ink matters, Zhen Niang, Old Master Li, and the others needed to return to Huizhou ahead of schedule.