Plate Ninety-Four: Infant and Child Portrait

During the lessons, the old man was not without his doubts. For instance, why did Sang Sang know nothing about some of the most basic common-sense questions, yet handle even the most intricate talisman arrays with ease? But he did not ask. Whenever she inquired in detail, he explained in detail; where she did not ask, he gave only a rough outline. His teaching style was exceedingly flexible.

Deep into the night, the Xing family’s grandparents and grandchildren had already fallen asleep.

Sang Sang did not light a lamp. Darkness meant no more to her than daylight. Sitting at the desk, she cleaned a tuft of short fur to be fitted into a brush handle. The brush tip was a flat, broom-like shape, and the hair used for it was rather stiff, suitable for laying on color over large areas.

From outside the window came a rustling sound, like a mouse searching for food.

The mouse was extremely bold. It entered the room and climbed onto the bed. Xiu’er turned over, and the mouse fled out of the room.

No—perhaps it was not a mouse searching for food.

Sang Sang’s hands were perfectly steady, without the slightest tremor. She merely exhaled, and several loose hairs on the desk lifted into the air, piercing through the window gauze like a violent gale and pinning the mouse’s limbs and tail in place.

Thud. The cloth pouch hit the ground, and spiritual crystals scattered everywhere.

Squeak, squeak, squeak... The mouse struggled with all its might, but the hairs pinned into it were like steel needles, unmoving.

Early the next morning, a scream came from Xiu’er’s room: “Spirit crystals? Where are the spirit crystals!”

Boxes were upended, drawers pulled open, hurried footsteps sounded, and the chaos ceased only after the door was opened.

On the stone steps at the front of the house, the pouch that held the spirit crystals lay quietly there. A few spirit crystals had spilled out beside it, and nearby lay a large, oily-black mouse, barely alive.

“A treasure-stealing mouse. The old house’s defenses are getting weaker and weaker. We should have someone come repair it.”

The old man emerged from the room. He strolled over, crouched down, and used the handle of his carving knife to poke the mouse’s head, then pulled out a half-long brownish-red hair. Narrowing his eyes, he studied it for a moment, then looked toward Sang Sang’s room.

“Good morning, Teacher. Xiu’er.” Sang Sang opened the door, straightened her sleeves, and handed Xiu’er an embroidered handkerchief. “Keep valuables safe. Storing them under a pillow isn’t secure.”

“A storage handkerchief? It’s far too precious. I can’t accept it.” Xiu’er was startled and kept shaking her head. “It’s because I’ve been spending too freely these past two days that I gave myself away and drew a thief’s attention. I’ll be careful from now on...”

“This is your reward for helping me sell off the beast meat I couldn’t finish. If you feel bad about it, then help me sort out the pile of beast bones in the workshop. And by the way, I want pastry for breakfast.” Without room for argument, Sang Sang stuffed the handkerchief into Xiu’er’s hands. “Teacher, I’ve already mastered the common attribute brushes for gathering spirit, focusing the mind, and calming the heart. What shall we learn today?”

The old man did not rise. After thinking for a moment, he said, “Then we’ll learn the Way of the Controlling Brush.”

With that, he snapped the treasure-stealing mouse’s neck and walked toward the rear courtyard. “A controlling brush possesses spirit. It needs to be soaked in special demon blood. Their traces can only be found in the snow mountains, and living demons are best.”

Sang Sang nodded. “All right, I’ll study the theory first. We can practice later.”

By breakfast time, Xiu’er brought the food. Sang Sang had already finished reading the books related to controlling brushes, and was asking the old man about the points she did not understand, when suddenly in the courtyard there was a patter like rain as beetles as thick as water buckets dropped from above.

It was Sang Sang’s message. The Heavenly Emperor had used the break between classes to go to the snow mountains and catch them, then sent them here by tearing open space at the marked spatial node.

The materials Sang Sang had used before to practice making brushes had all fallen from the sky in just this way. Xiu’er was already used to the sight of demonic beasts dropping from above, and while tidying the table, the lingering fear of nearly losing money was soothed by the storage handkerchief. Her whole person radiated cheerfulness.

“Grandpa, I won’t be back at noon today, so remember to eat on time.”

The old man’s face darkened. “Where are you going? With that boy from the Fire family?”

“Grandpa, Brother Fire is a painter now. How could I ever be good enough for him?” Xiu’er said coquettishly, without a trace of self-pity or sorrow. Then she smiled and said, “Aunt Fu has finally saved enough spirit crystals and bought a baby-painting by a great master. Today she’s going to the birthing pool in the town center to have the child formed.”

Sang Sang was puzzled. “Aren’t baby-paintings free?”

“Each couple can only receive one free painting for a boy and one for a girl. If you want more, you have to buy them yourself. Aunt Fu’s younger brother died in an accident years ago, so she’s been saving money ever since. If the brother formed by a great master is born, he’ll definitely be able to sense spiritual energy. Maybe he can even become a painter one day.” Xiu’er’s eyes were full of anticipation.

Sang Sang looked to the old man. “Teacher, I’d also like to see the process of a child’s formation.”

She had painted fish, livestock, and riding beasts, but she had never tried to paint a human being. It was not that she could not; rather, she could not get past the barrier in her heart. Humans were not animals. They were not the sort of thing one could simply feed a little and keep alive. She still was not prepared to raise a child.

“The Thousand Brushes Assembly is already in its latter half. It’s lively now, and there are many painters in town. Be careful when you go out.” The old man clasped his hands behind his back and ambled away.

“We’ll ride Snowball there.” Sang Sang gave a whistle, and the three-tailed white fox came running.

Xiu’er leapt up joyfully. “I’ll go call Aunt Fu!”

The people of Crimson Cloud had no capacity for childbirth. Although marriage between men and women was still the mainstream, the next generation relied entirely on creation. It had always been so for countless ages. For them, only demon beasts could reproduce naturally.

Along the way, Xiu’er chattered without pause, easing Aunt Fu’s nervousness.

Unlike created objects, human formation had to take place in a specialized birthing pool. Such dedicated pools were common even in villages. There was a saying: the more powerful adults that had once formed in a given birthing pool, the greater the future potential of the infants formed there. So some people spared no expense, spending every last saving to hire the best painter and go to the largest city to have their child formed, determined not to let the child lose at the starting line.

Aunt Fu was one such example.

Sang Sang did not join their conversation. Seated in the back, she was holding Aunt Fu’s baby-painting and studying it, gathering information about the human creation image.

The Thousand Brushes Assembly had entered its climax, and painters were coming and going all through the town. Yet Sang Sang’s age and the proud Snowball still drew plenty of attention. As soon as the three of them entered the district, they were spotted by several people dressed as servants.

“The three-tailed white fox. A noble girl. No man with her to do the fighting.”

“Brother Hua, the woman in the middle is the granddaughter of Xing the Brush Master. I heard Old Xing recently took on a generous student. These past two days he’s sold quite a lot of beast meat to the tavern, some of it even high-grade. Someone’s had their eye on him.”

“The higher-ups didn’t tell us to make a move. Report it first. We’ll follow them, and once the people arrive to identify her, we’ll see how the higher-ups handle it.”

In the noisy street, the few of them deliberately lowered their voices. They thought no one would hear, but they did not know that for Sang Sang, she could even hear the fluttering of a mosquito’s wings from a li away. It was just that sounds unrelated to her, even if she heard them, she would not specially dwell on them. Unfortunately, they had mentioned the two sensitive words: three-tailed white fox and Xing the Brush Master.

The man they said would do the fighting—did they mean the Heavenly Emperor?

Probably the backup to the brush rack man had come looking for her, Sang Sang thought. She had not altered her appearance, and after so long, their efficiency was truly poor.

She did not turn back. She merely sent out a few strands of starlight to follow the group, while her attention remained on the painting before her.

The birthing pool in the town center was very shallow, less than a foot deep. At the center, a thumb-sized fountain bubbled continuously. The bottom of the pool and the surrounding area were all carefully carved stone with runes. One sat on the steps and placed the painting of the child into the pool, and in about ten minutes one would obtain a real child.

Newly formed children were usually two or three years old, sometimes four or five, but never older than five and never younger than two.

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