Zixuan stared anxiously at Han Rui, who grinned from ear to ear. Heavens! Does he really want me to date him? His face contorted as he took a cautious step back. Wait… could he be in cahoots with the Jade-Faced Midnight-Smiling Rapist? A shiver ran down his spine as another, more horrifying thought crossed his mind. What if… what if he is the Jade-Faced Midnight-Smiling Rapist? Oh, heavens above, what kind of misfortune is this?

  While Zixuan’s thoughts spiraled into paranoia, Han Rui watched him closely, his grin faltering as confusion set in. Why is he looking at me like that? Han Rui wondered, noting the tension in the man’s posture. Zixuan had his hands behind him, shielding his rear while glaring suspiciously. Wait… wait… what the hell is this guy doing? Then the realization struck, and Han Rui’s jaw dropped.

  “Master Zixuan,” Han Rui said, raising his hands defensively, “I think there’s a big misunderstanding here. I didn’t come here to ask you out on a date.” His words were as clear as he could make them, but Zixuan only retreated further, his expression growing darker.

  “I know who you are,” Zixuan snapped, fury sparking in his eyes. “You think I haven’t figured it out?” He edged toward a nearby table, never breaking eye contact. There’s no way I’m giving this maniac a chance to pounce, he thought, shielding his rear with one hand and reaching for a bottle with the other.

  “What are you talking about?” Han Rui asked, exasperated.

  Zixuan straightened up, his voice rising. “Don’t play dumb! Isn’t it obvious? You’re the Jade-Faced Midnight-Smiling Rapist! It may not be midnight, but clearly, you’ve rebranded yourself as the Jade-Faced All-Day-Smiling Rapist! Over my dead body will I be one of your victims!”

  Han Rui’s mouth fell open in disbelief. He tried to respond, but his words caught in his throat.

  At that moment, a familiar system notification popped up, bouncing gleefully in front of Han Rui’s eyes.

  [I love this guy… Hahahaha!]

  The text wobbled and spun, and Han Rui could practically hear its smug, mechanical laughter.

  System, now’s not the time, Han Rui thought, his fingers itching to swipe the window away. Instead, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm.

  “Master Zixuan,” Han Rui said firmly, his hands still raised in a show of peace. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I can guarantee you I’m not the Jade-Faced Midnight-Smiling Rapist.”

  “Exactly what the Jade-Faced Midnight-Smiling Rapist would say,” Zixuan shot back, gripping the bottle like a weapon.

  “Actually, no,” Han Rui countered, his voice sharpening. “I may be an outsider, but from what I’ve heard, that bastard doesn’t bother hiding his intentions. He announces his targets in advance, remember?”

  Zixuan hesitated, his grip on the bottle loosening slightly. Han Rui pressed on.

  “Master Zixuan,” Han Rui said carefully, “are you young master Han Rui by any chance?”

  “What?!” Zixuan’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

  “Well, according to rumors, the rapist announced young master Han Rui as his next target. So, unless you’re secretly him in disguise…”

  “Of course not!” Zixuan snapped. “I have nothing to do with the Han Clan!”

  “Then tell me,” Han Rui said, his voice dripping with irritation, “what exactly have I done to make you think I’m that lunatic? All I said was that I had an offer you couldn’t refuse, and suddenly I’m being accused of being a rapist!”

  Zixuan blinked, the weight of Han Rui’s words slowly sinking in. Now that I think about it… he hasn’t said anything incriminating. Maybe I let my paranoia get the better of me.

  The painter lowered the bottle cautiously, his tense shoulders relaxing. “You’re… really not the Jade-Faced Midnight-Smiling Rapist?”

  Han Rui exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but no. I have no interest in ravaging men or women, for that matter.” He paused, his tone dry as he added, “Although, given your reputation, the rapist might find you worth his time someday. I wish you good luck.”

  Zixuan’s blood ran cold, and he shook his head furiously. “I’d rather he didn’t,” he muttered, setting the bottle back on the table. He took a deep breath and bowed deeply, cupping his fists.

  “I sincerely apologize for the misunderstanding,” Zixuan said, his voice humble. “I promise you, such a thing will never happen again.”

  Han Rui smiled, though the corners of his eyelids twitched incessantly. Something tells me I shouldn’t trust this guy’s words… he might even be worse than Meixue when it comes to misunderstandings.

  He exhaled slowly, swallowing his thoughts as he said, “No problem, Master Zixuan. I understand your worries. After all, you are quite the lady’s man.”

  Zixuan froze, his eyes narrowing as his mind raced. What did he mean by that? Could it be that…

  A dry cough from Han Rui broke his train of thought.

  “Master Zixuan, I swear, that was just a compliment. Please don’t read too much into it,” Han Rui said hastily, noticing the suspicious glint in Zixuan’s gaze.

  Han Rui sighed internally. Should I just leave? This guy might actually be more troublesome than Great-Grandfather. Yet, he forced himself to smile, brushing aside the thought. I’ve come all this way; I can’t leave empty-handed.

  “So, Master Zixuan,” he said with forced cheer, “about what I mentioned earlier. Would you care to listen?”

  Zixuan leaned back against the table, crossing his arms. “I suppose I owe you that much. Uh… sorry, what’s your name again?”

  “I’m no one of great importance,” Han Rui replied with a smile. “You can call me Guo Laozi.”

  “Laozi…” Zixuan muttered, nodding as if committing the name to memory. “Fine. What offer do you intend to make?”

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  “Master Zixuan,” Han Rui began, his tone suddenly earnest, “you’re confident in your painting abilities, correct?”

  Zixuan tilted his head back, his gaze drifting toward the room filled with his artwork. What’s he planning? Unable to discern the motive behind the question, he replied cautiously, “I am. Why?”

  “Fantastic!” Han Rui clapped his hands, beaming. “How about a wager?”

  Zixuan’s brows furrowed. “Go on. I’m listening. What are the terms?”

  “It’s simple, really. While I acknowledge Master Zixuan’s immense talent, I believe I can surpass you with little to no effort.”

  Han Rui reached into his robe and retrieved a large brown sack, placing it on the table. The sound of coins clinking echoed in the room, and Zixuan’s eyes darted toward the bag. It was enormous—easily twice the size of a bull’s head.

  How many coins are in there? Is he some kind of young master? Or did he just fill it with rocks? Could this be a scam? Zixuan’s mind raced with questions, but Han Rui’s voice pulled him back.

  “Of course, I can’t expect someone of your stature to waste their time. If I lose, all the gold coins in this sack are yours.”

  Zixuan’s gaze flicked back to Han Rui, narrowing slightly. “And what do you get out of this?”

  “Nothing much,” Han Rui said with a disarming smile. “I’d only ask that you consider buying some of my products. That’s all.”

  Zixuan stared at him, unconvinced. “What kind of products?”

  Scratching the back of his head, Han Rui maintained his grin. “I’m a wandering peddler, and I specialize in… recreational supplements. Let’s just say I’ve never had a dissatisfied customer.”

  Zixuan’s frown deepened. This feels too one-sided. If I win, I get his money. If I lose, I still don’t have to buy his products. Why does this feel like a scam?

  His gaze drifted to Han Rui’s hands. “Do you honestly think you can beat me? Your hands are smooth and callus-free, with no paint stains under your nails. You’ve clearly never held a brush in your life.”

  “Oh, so you’re confident then?” Han Rui said, grinning brighter. “Shall we begin?”

  Zixuan’s frown turned into a scowl. Does he even hear what I’m saying? Forget it. People like this need to be humbled with actions, not words. I’ll give him his money back when he realizes his mistake.

  Consolidating his thoughts, Zixuan gave a curt nod.

  Han Rui beamed and posed a question with an almost mischievous glint in his eye. “It would only be fair if we painted the same subject. How about we capture this section of the wall and all the paintings hanging on it?”

  “Are you sure?” Zixuan asked, his gaze drifting skeptically toward the proposed subject.

  Han Rui nodded confidently. “Absolutely. You?”

  “I’d rather let my work speak for itself,” Zixuan replied with a sigh, standing upright. “Give me a second; I’ll get some materials ready for you—”

  “Oh no, that won’t be necessary,” Han Rui interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “I have my own methods for capturing this masterpiece.”

  Zixuan sighed again, shaking his head in resignation. “Alright, have it your way. So, what’s the time limit? And are there any rules I should know about?”

  “None at all,” Han Rui declared, his smile widening. “Take all the time you need. For me, it’ll be over in a second, to be honest.”

  This time, Zixuan rolled his eyes. What a braggart. He glanced at Han Rui, sizing him up. I was going to let him off with a small lesson, but now? I’ll show him that arrogance won’t get him far.

  Saying nothing further, Zixuan rolled up his sleeves and approached his canvas. He carefully replaced it with a blank one, ensuring his tools were in place. His focus shifted entirely to the subject as he immersed himself in the meticulous art of painting.

  Han Rui, meanwhile, plopped into a nearby chair, his gaze lazily following Zixuan’s efforts. Look at him, all fired up. A wicked grin spread across his face, and his eyes gleamed with self-assuredness. I can’t wait to see his reaction when he realizes this contest was decided before it even began.

  In his mind, the system chimed in, [You sure love these elaborate schemes, don’t you?]

  “I don’t want to hear that from you,” Han Rui fired back mentally. “This is the best way to gain his trust. Once he’s thoroughly defeated—especially in what he prides himself on—he’ll believe every word I say. No matter what, I’m making him a customer today.”

  Hours melted away. The inn’s windows framed the moonlight as it bathed the room in a serene glow. Zixuan remained an image of concentration, his hand gliding deftly over the canvas. Colors bloomed into a vivid and familiar likeness of the wall before him.

  Four hours in, Zixuan paused to glance at Han Rui—and his jaw clenched.

  There he was, snoring contentedly, slumped in his chair with a thin trail of drool trickling from his mouth. Every so often, Han Rui would chuckle in his sleep, an infuriatingly smug sound.

  Does he really think he can win in an instant? Zixuan’s brow furrowed as his irritation deepened. I was going to give him back his money, but now? Forget it. This guy needs to learn a lesson—and pay for wasting my time. Though, knowing my luck, that bag is probably full of rocks instead of coins.

  With a resigned shake of his head, Zixuan returned to his work. “One thing at a time,” he muttered to himself. “Finish the painting first. Deal with everything else later.”

  Another hour slipped by, and Zixuan finally lowered his brush. He studied his creation, a smile spreading across his face. Not to brag, but… this is exceptional.

  Stretching his sore muscles with a groan, Zixuan turned toward Han Rui. Time to wake him up.

  As he approached, Han Rui stirred, jolting awake as if sensing the movement. Lazily, he yawned and stretched, his demeanor utterly unbothered.

  “Oh? Master Zixuan, you’re finally done?” Han Rui asked, his voice dripping with nonchalance.

  Zixuan’s lips trembled as he fought to keep his composure. “Yes, I’m done. What about you—” He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze caught by the strange jade object Han Rui pulled from his robes.

  What in the world is that?

  Before he could voice the question, a brilliant flash erupted from the jade. Han Rui turned to him, smiling like a cat who’d just cornered a mouse.

  “I’m done as well. Shall we compare?” Han Rui asked, his tone brimming with confidence.

  Zixuan blinked, processing the words. Just like that? His mind raced. Wait, so… he’s a cultivator? He quickly shook his head, dismissing the notion. No, there was no trace of qi usage, no subtle movements to suggest martial training either. If anything, Han Rui looked utterly unremarkable. But then, what was that item? Zixuan’s gaze settled on the strange, sleek object in Han Rui’s hand.

  “Hello?” Han Rui waved, snapping Zixuan out of his spiraling thoughts.

  “Yes, yes. Let’s compare,” Zixuan said, masking his curiosity. He had to know the source of Han Rui’s strange confidence.

  Han Rui grinned as he stood, casting a casual glance at Zixuan’s painting. His lips twitched into a wry smile. Oof. This guy’s really, really good. The vibrant colors and painstaking details were undeniable proof of Zixuan’s talent. Too bad it’s nowhere near photo-realistic—let alone an actual picture. Han Rui suppressed a chuckle, eager to see Zixuan’s reaction.

  “Where’s your painting? I want to see—” Zixuan began, only to be cut off as Han Rui handed him the strange object.

  “You’re telling me this is your painting?” Zixuan frowned, inspecting the unfamiliar device. Its sleek, smooth surface looked like it belonged in a treasure vault, not a painter’s hand.

  Han Rui nodded confidently. “Take a look, Master Zixuan. After all, actions speak louder than words.”

  Zixuan hesitated, his fingers hovering over the device. It was cold to the touch, yet somehow felt… right, as if it had been designed to fit perfectly in his hand. “I can’t see anything,” he grumbled, casting a wary glance at Han Rui.

  “Slide your finger across the surface,” Han Rui said with a knowing smile, demonstrating the motion.

  Before Zixuan could even process the instruction, his finger moved instinctively. In an instant, the device lit up, revealing a stunningly lifelike image of their subject.

  “Impossible!” Zixuan exclaimed, his eyes bulging. His gaze darted between the wall and the image on the device, his mouth agape. Then his attention fell on his own painting—the product of over five hours of painstaking labor—and it suddenly felt… lacking.

  Zixuan’s grip on the device tightened as his mind struggled to reconcile what he was seeing. “How is this possible?” he finally managed; his voice shaky with disbelief.

  Han Rui chuckled, his hand slipping into his robes. “We can discuss that later, Master Zixuan. First, let me introduce you to my latest product. I guarantee it’ll leave you speechless,” he said, pulling out a small transparent bag containing a colorful fine powder.

  He held it up with a flourish. “Master Zixuan, allow me to present co…I mean, Purple Snow.”