Jacob Miller’s expression remained as steely as ever, unmoved. Upon hearing this, William Foster’s face showed a hint of pride, though he replied modestly, “Your Highness flatters me.”

David Sullivan snorted coldly, “Now is not the time for self-praise.” William Foster’s face darkened, but before he could retort, David Sullivan was already gazing at the painting, murmuring to himself, “Why did the master want this painting to be hung up? What could it mean?”

This was a question not only David Sullivan wanted to ask, but everyone present.

Because when the painting was revealed, everyone turned to look, wanting to see what was depicted in a work so carefully hidden away.

Yet, at a glance, everyone’s faces showed confusion, for they could not immediately tell what the painting was of. The more they looked, the deeper their puzzlement grew.

The painting seemed to depict a flower, yet also resembled a crane.

It could be called a flower, for one could vaguely make out the shape of roots and stems; but it could also be a crane, as the blossom’s form looked like a crane standing with its legs tucked beneath it. The crane’s silhouette was solitary, and what might be either leaves or feathers seemed to burn like fire, suffused with a blood-red hue.

At first glance, the painting’s colors were intense and magnificent, but for some reason, the longer one looked, the more that flower-or-crane figure exuded an indescribable chill and sense of impending violence.

Edward Cooper stared at the painting, and for the first time, his eyes showed deep loathing and hatred. Yet, though his hatred was strong, everyone else was focused on the painting and did not notice Edward Cooper’s expression. Only Brian Carter, glancing at Edward Cooper, caught sight of the master’s look and felt a chill in his heart.

Charles Thompson only glanced at the painting before his gaze fell upon Emily Harris.

Emily Harris’s face remained cold as ever, but her eyes held a trace of bewilderment. Her swordsmanship was superb, but she was clearly not skilled in painting or calligraphy and could not discern what the painting depicted. Charles Thompson noticed this and felt a twinge of concern, immediately pinning his hopes on Olivia Morgan.

Charles Thompson was well aware that, in the earlier secret contest, Emily Harris had shone brilliantly, but Brian Carter’s words also carried weight. The two sides were evenly matched; if the crown prince’s faction wanted to gain the upper hand at Qingshou Temple, it would have to be through this painting. Olivia Morgan was highly accomplished in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—if he could identify the painting’s origin, they would seize the advantage.

But Olivia Morgan was frowning as well, clearly just as puzzled. Charles Thompson couldn’t help but feel his heart sink. Yet, thinking further, the Jinyiwei were always overbearing, and though they had many experts, those truly versed in painting and calligraphy were one in ten thousand. If Olivia Morgan couldn’t do it, Brian Carter certainly couldn’t either. With this thought, and seeing David Sullivan’s face as dark as water, Charles Thompson couldn’t help but let a faint smile appear at the corner of his mouth. But when he caught sight of Brian Carter’s lips moving, Charles Thompson felt a chill and turned to look, only then noticing two small lines of text beside the painting.

Who will achieve fame and success?

Slaughter fills the world!

The calligraphy was like slender bamboo leaves, the strokes as sharp as swords. Combined with the meaning of these two lines and the mood of the painting, it made one’s heart pound uncontrollably.

As a Grand Secretary of the Inner Cabinet, Charles Thompson was, of course, highly talented. At a glance, he recognized these two lines as coming from the poem “Passing by the Battlefield at Fengkou.”

This poem was written by Gao Qi, one of the Four Talents of Wu. The full poem was not short, describing at length the suffering brought upon the people by the ravages of war. Thinking of this, Charles Thompson couldn’t help but reflect: Gao Qi was a genius, truly a great talent of the Ming. Yet, because he disliked officialdom, he resigned from office, which the founding emperor Zhu Yuanzhang took as an insult to the throne and ordered him executed by waist-chopping. Thus, later generations avoided mentioning this matter, and even refrained from quoting these lines, for fear of bringing disaster upon themselves. Edward Cooper had hidden a painting in the pagoda, inscribed with two lines from Gao Qi’s poem—what deeper meaning could this hold?

For Charles Thompson to become the chief scholar of the Inner Cabinet and remain by the emperor’s side for so long, he had to be both refined and shrewd—otherwise, how could he have survived to this day? The more he thought, the more complicated it seemed, and amidst his tangled thoughts, he found himself growing faintly fearful. Yet he could not say exactly what he feared.

Charles Thompson was troubled, and so was David Sullivan. However, David Sullivan did not know the origin of the poem, and was instead thinking: Brian Carter had followed him for three years, and he had never seen Brian Carter show any insight into poetry or painting. That Olivia Morgan was clearly knowledgeable in the arts, so did that mean this round was already lost? If the crown prince’s side gained the upper hand this time, how could he turn the tables? And that Emily Harris, with such sharp swordsmanship—why did she seem so familiar…

Both Charles Thompson and David Sullivan were lost in thought, temporarily setting aside their rivalry. Princess Yunmeng, however, could not contain herself. Seeing everyone so dazed, she too wondered what the master meant by hanging the painting, but, after all, she did not understand much.

The ignorant know no fear, so Princess Yunmeng asked boldly, “Monk, Daoist, why did you hang up this painting? What does it mean?”

At last, everyone collected themselves and looked toward Edward Cooper.

Edward Cooper was still gazing at the painting, but the hatred in his eyes had long since faded. He simply said lightly, “I would like to ask: what is depicted in this painting, and who is the artist?”

David Sullivan sighed, and Charles Thompson couldn’t help but exhale. In Charles Thompson’s view, if even Olivia Morgan did not know, there was no reason Brian Carter would. As long as Olivia Morgan could offer some insight into the painting, their side would have an eighty percent chance of winning this contest.