Holy shit The drawing moved

"Old Wei, I don’t have many hobbies, but I do enjoy studying calligraphy and paintings."

Fang Chu clasped his hands slightly toward Wei Jingzhi.

"In this day and age, young people like you are rare indeed."

Wei Jingzhi was full of admiration before pointing at the painting before them. "Tell me, what do you think is the highlight of this painting?"

Fang Chu first cast a disdainful glance at Xu Mu before lowering his gaze to the painting on the dining table.

"This painting employs a variety of brush techniques, but the most outstanding, in my opinion, is its outlining strokes!" Fang Chu declared, staring intently at the landscape painting.

"Excellent!"

Wei Jingzhi exclaimed loudly, his eyes filled with praise as he looked at Fang Chu. "You truly understand art. Old Jiang’s outlining technique is his greatest strength—unmatched in the world!"

"Exactly! The strokes are fluid, balancing strength and softness. The contours of the mountains and rivers, the forms of the figures—they’re practically lifelike."

Fang Chu nodded lightly.

Most of the people around them were brimming with envy, including Xu Shou.

Why did they come here every year to celebrate Old Wei’s birthday?

To put it bluntly, it was all about the resources in Wei Jingzhi’s hands.

The fact that influential figures in office had come to offer their congratulations proved he still had considerable connections.

But since Wei Jingzhi refused gifts, they could only show up year after year to stay on his radar.

Who would’ve thought that this year, the Xu Family’s good-for-nothing would steal the spotlight?

Guo Xiao’s heart swelled with excitement. If he could secure a connection with Wei Jingzhi and meet some of those influential figures, his family’s business would undoubtedly rise to new heights.

Xu Shou couldn’t help but sigh. It was a shame he knew nothing about calligraphy or paintings. The millions-worth of wine he’d brought today paled in comparison to Fang Chu’s few well-placed words.

Jiang Huihui blew a bubble with her gum, her mood brightened by the praise for her grandfather.

"I don’t quite agree. The showy outlining technique is actually the painting’s downfall."

The words instantly drew the attention of everyone present.

All eyes turned to see who dared to be so audacious.

When they landed on Xu Mu, the crowd exchanged sympathetic glances with Xu Shou.

This prodigal son of the Xu Family was known for his arrogance, but to act out in front of Old Wei? That was practically slapping the man in the face.

"Xu Mu, mind your manners."

Xu Shou already regretted bringing his son. Even as an amateur, he could tell the painting was top-tier.

Moreover, he knew full well how deeply Wei Jingzhi cherished calligraphy and paintings, especially traditional Chinese art.

The walls of his home were practically covered in them—did anyone really think he didn’t know his stuff?

He admitted his son was talented.

But when it came to traditional Chinese painting, how could Xu Mu possibly outshine Wei Jingzhi?

Xu Ningbing sighed, rubbing her temples. Her foolish little brother…

Sure, the pen drawings he’d made for her of rare herbs had been impressive.

But pen drawings and landscape paintings were entirely different.

"Oh? Xu Mu, care to share your thoughts?"

Fang Chu struggled to suppress a smirk. Born into a reclusive aristocratic family, he’d had private tutors for traditional Chinese painting as a child.

While his own skills were lacking, his eye for art was sharp.

What did this good-for-nothing Xu Mu know? Trying to show off in front of him?

"You wouldn’t understand even if I explained." Xu Mu replied coolly.

"You’re from the Xu Family, aren’t you? How do you know we won’t understand unless you explain?"

Wei Jingzhi gave Xu Mu a measured look.

Though his expression remained neutral, a flicker of irritation stirred within him.

He’d heard of Xu Mu before.

In his opinion, Xu Shou’s excessive indulgence was to blame for the boy’s behavior.

"Fine. The artist behind this painting undoubtedly possesses superior technique, but their mistake lies in showing off too much."

Xu Mu slid his hands into his pockets, studying the painting. "Traditional Chinese painting relies on five main brush techniques: outlining, texture strokes, dry brushing, dotting, and washes. As Old Wei mentioned earlier, the outlining here is indeed masterful."

Hearing this, Wei Jingzhi’s irritation faded slightly. Most people couldn’t even name the five techniques.

If Xu Mu knew them, perhaps he did have something worthwhile to say.

"But while the outlining is top-tier, the rest pales in comparison. That’s the flaw. What matters most in traditional Chinese painting? Harmony!"

Xu Mu spread his hands. "This painting feels like trying to depict a beautiful woman—curves in all the right places, but with stubby legs and arms. The proportions are completely off."

The crowd was stunned. Though they didn’t fully grasp Xu Mu’s critique, it sounded convincing.

"Hah! That’s hilarious, Xu Mu. You’ve got quite the silver tongue. To me, this painting is perfectly harmonious!"

Fang Chu sneered. "Your analogy doesn’t even hold up. Do you really think Old Wei and I can’t recognize a masterpiece when we see one?"

Wei Jingzhi nodded inwardly. After decades of studying art, his discernment was beyond question.

"That’s because you’ve never seen true excellence." Xu Mu said flatly.

"Then why don’t you show us? Go ahead—paint something better!"

Fang Chu grinned mockingly. "Anyone can criticize. Put your brush where your mouth is."

The onlookers murmured in agreement. It was easy to nitpick perfection.

"Fine. Got any ink and brushes?"

Xu Mu had been waiting for this.

You asked for it. Now I have no choice but to show off.

"Right here! I’ll fetch them."

Wei Jingzhi was curious to see what Xu Mu was truly capable of.

As Wei Jingzhi left, Xu Shou hurried to his son’s side. "Kid, are you sure about this?"

"Relax. I know a thing or two about painting."

Xu Mu gave his father a reassuring look.

Xu Ningbing’s eyes widened.

Oh no. Here we go again with the ‘I know a thing or two.’

Did he actually know traditional Chinese painting? She’d never seen him so much as pick up a brush before.

Fang Chu stood with his hands behind his back, already guessing Xu Mu’s plan.

Judging by the boy’s expression, he probably could paint. His earlier critique was just a ploy to impress Wei Jingzhi.

But there was no way his skills surpassed this painting.

The only one who remained unfazed was Jiang Huihui.

She had complete faith in her grandfather’s work. Xu Mu was just making a spectacle of himself—exactly as the rumors described.

Before long, Wei Jingzhi returned with all the necessary tools, arranging them on another table.

Fang Chu smirked at the sight. "Well, Xu Mu? The stage is yours."

Xu Shou clenched his fists, sweating bullets. Please don’t let this blow up in his face.

"Then I’ll just make a few adjustments to this painting."

Relying on muscle memory, Xu Mu picked up the brush and began outlining.

Within just a few strokes, Wei Jingzhi’s eyes narrowed. Something was off—these techniques weren’t something just anyone could replicate.

As time passed, Xu Mu’s skill became undeniable. His brushwork was fluid and unpredictable, the ink seeming to come alive.

By the time he was halfway done, the crowd was speechless.

Xu Mu’s rendition was nearly identical to the original.

He continued refining until, finally, he set the brush down. His landscape painting now stood complete beside the first.

The guests scrutinized both works. At a glance, they looked the same.

But upon closer inspection, Xu Mu’s version flowed with effortless harmony.

Staring at it long enough, one could even see the robes of the figures in the painting swaying.

"Holy shit! The painting moved! It moved!"

A middle-aged man pointed at the painting and exclaimed in awe.