You rascal, stop right there!

The letter in Ling Shumo's hand fell to the ground quietly: "Impossible..."

This person promised that he would bring himself back to him intact.

Such a carefree and unrestrained person, born with a chaotic mind, was once said that even the God of Hell would not accept him.

He called out to the shadowy private guard and said sternly, "I told you to follow me and protect me all the way. How could you do this?"

The man clasped his fists and sighed, "Sir, when we entered Jiangzhou, Bai Shizhao was surrounded and monitored by the Li family's soldiers, and it was impossible to get close. Especially the Baishengju quarry is where the local wing troops of the Ministry of War are stationed."

Ling Shumo stared at the person opposite him with a pale face and spoke word by word, as if he could not miss any details.

A few strands of his black hair brushed against his face, and his expression could not be seen clearly: "Then... the body... have you found it..."

"Because it's too dark at night, and fearing another collapse, we have to postpone the search. The rocks are too difficult to dig up..." He spoke more hesitantly.

It is difficult to find a human body, and life and death are uncertain.

Ling Shumo closed his eyes with difficulty.

What happened six years ago happened again.

He smiled miserably, and felt the love in his blood clearly penetrated his bones: "I knew that this trip to Jiangzhou was a trap, but I actually let him go..."

The voice seemed confused and weak.

The shadow guard seemed even more at a loss: "Sir, then we..."

Ling Shumo spoke the rest of the words very clearly, just three words - keep searching.

The scene was unusually quiet, as if no other sound could be heard.

The man picked up the pen and continued to write some poems and sentences that others could not understand, analyzing everything from beginning to end.

He tried his best to remain calm, but rejected all the bad possibilities he could think of, some of which he could not even touch.

I don’t know how long it has been...

Ling Shumo sat in the study in a daze, as if he was wandering in the universe.

Finally, A Yan and An Nian came to call him, but they only saw the door closed and heard no response at all.

Ah Nian couldn't help but ask, "What's wrong, sir?"

Ah Yan beside him said calmly: "Maybe the people sent to Jiangzhou have returned."

It must not be good news.

"Well, shall we still bring supper to the adults tonight?"

"It's better not to. Don't mention Bai Shizhao again in the next few days!"

………………

Jinluan Palace.

"You mean, that magical stone and flower, that strange Penglai Cave, collapsed?" Emperor Jiaxing looked at the court officials in astonishment.

The person in charge of reporting shook his head: "Yes, not only did the stone quarry collapse, but Bai Shizhao, who was in charge of painting, was also buried by the rocks..."

Emperor Jiaxing closed his eyes and thought for a moment: "In this case, can those strange flowers and stones still be dug out?"

Although he admired Bai Shizhao's painting skills, he was just a painter. Even if such talents were hard to find, there would probably be a new one every once in a while in such a big world.

But flowers and stones are different. It is extremely difficult to form natural flowers and stones. If they are destroyed, it will be difficult to find equally strange and bizarre things.

The person who reported this looked embarrassed: "Countless flowers and stones are buried, and it is difficult to take them out. Unless the rocks at the entrance of the cave are blasted open."

Prime Minister Li Simeng looked a little unhappy, so he saluted and said: "Baishengju is the spiritual eye of my home, a Feng Shui treasure land. It cannot be blown up!"

The soil in Jiangzhou is prone to collapse. Once a hole is blown open with gunpowder, the noise will be so great that ditches will have to be dug around it.

Emperor Jiaxing frowned slightly and said, "It's just a Feng Shui treasure land. I can choose another one for you! There are so many prefectures, just pick one at random."

"Your Majesty——" Li Simeng stood there angrily and suddenly sighed.

"That's enough! Prime Minister Li, I have made up my mind..."

Jiaxing seemed a little impatient.

Recently, the people were already dissatisfied with the handling of the Li Xiangjiangzhou case, and all kinds of ghost stories were flying around. Storytellers were never tired of it, and they were all reported to the palace. Not to mention the rumor that when the meteor appeared, there would be a disaster.

At this time, Cheng Su, the director of the Painting Academy, bowed and said, "Your Majesty, shouldn't you go and look for Bai Shizhao's body?"

It was quite hasty to handle the funeral of such a great painter in such a way.

Bai Wan had only been to Jiangzhou for about half a month when such news came. In the end, none of the five sword-bearing guards came back.

Your Majesty is only concerned with dead things.

The man on the dragon chair raised his eyebrows slightly: "That makes sense, let's look for it!"

After all, he was the one who sent the people out.

Suddenly, Jiaxing seemed to think of something: "Wait, are the three paintings I asked him to paint still there?"

Although the person may be dead, his paintings still have to be handed in to the court. All the talents in the world should belong to the emperor and must report back.

Then, the person reporting the incident presented three painting scrolls.

The first painting is of Li Simeng's high hall, named "Anle", the second is of Li's mansion, named "Xixin", and the third is just a piece of flower and stone, named "Shanju".

Although they are all different themes, and are drawn with only lines, leaving a lot of white space, the brushwork is rough, free and unconventional, and it is truly unrestrained and uninhibited, and it is hearty and refreshing.

However, it is a little simpler than his previous paintings.

Jiaxing looked at the painting quietly without saying anything.

It can be seen that compared with Bai Wan's previous paintings, these three paintings are really not that good in terms of brushwork or composition.

The ministers who watched it also found it boring.

"Forget it, let's put these three paintings in Daying Art Academy first!" Jiaxing said casually.

The civil and military officials of the imperial court would not care about a small eighth-rank painter, let alone this scroll that seemed like a will.

After the court session,

Cheng Su, the director of the Painting Academy, nodded slightly and walked out of the palace holding the three scroll paintings in his hands.

Everyone watched him walk step by step with heavy steps, and then he hurried to the Shangshu Mansion.

At this moment, the Minister of Rites' Mansion was bleak and somewhat indifferent. Especially when the autumn wind blew up the yellow sand, swirling the eye of the world, and finally collapsed to the ground with its last breath.

"Tell your master that Cheng Su from Daying Painting Academy wants to see you." He bowed.

The gatekeeper hesitated for a moment before saying:

"Our master said that he has been feeling unwell recently and is closed to visitors!"

Cheng Su stood there sadly, feeling that sighing was of no use.

After all, that person was Han Miaoran, and the blow six years ago was known to everyone. If it happened again, even someone as determined as Ling Shumo would not be able to bear it.

In fact, no one would believe that the person who could live freely in the mud would leave. Unless he wanted to, the God of Hell would not accept such a contradictory person.

"Then tell him that Cheng has Bai Shizhao's last three paintings for him to see."

The servant hesitated for a moment, nodded and went back to report.

Cheng Su followed him into the mansion, and the already deserted hall seemed even more desolate.

He saw the familiar figure who had claimed to be ill and did not attend court that day.

The man was dressed in blue and had his back to him, looking deep and solemn.

When he heard the footsteps of someone coming, he said calmly: "Draw it for me."