Power Up, Artist Yang!

In a way, Yujia figured that her countless studies in Lingxin paid off. All those hours she spent sketching and painting after real life models refined her attention to detail. It awakened the skills that she had cultivated during college, most of which had become rusty over the years.

Now, after observing the scenery beyond the cliff, at the sea of clouds and the layered mountains, she didn't even have to look up for a reference as she painted. She had memorized the look that she wanted to capture in her painting, with its ethereal lighting and dreamlike appearance. 

She moved at unprecedented speed yet kept her wrist steady and her brush smooth. With a few flicks of her arm, she captured the misty sky. Then, with another swoop, she brushed a mountain range onto the page. Through a few more strokes, she darkened the values to reflect the perfect lighting. It took shadows to bring out the light. She then dipped her brush into water, casting the diluted ink onto the page and forming the celestial clouds. While she did that, with her left hand, she prepared a thin brush, then switched to using that one to ink the details of small pine trees on the edges of the mountains. 

For the briefest split of a second, she glanced to the side. The incense had mostly burnt through. There were only around five minutes left.

Looking back down at her painting, she couldn't help but smirk. Five minutes was more than enough.

It only took a few more brush strokes to create a close up tree, setting a focus to the distant scenery. As a result of her observations through the walk, she knew what the pines of this mountain looked like as well as the back of her hand, placing it onto the page with no difficulty. It was as if she slipped a memory onto the page. In her last few minutes, she placed another branch of pine, balancing the one she had painted on the other side of the page.

The time wasn't even up when she set down her brush and stepped back. Her painting was complete.

…

When the incense had completely burnt out, the elder who acted as the impartial judge didn't even give a glance to her work. He immediately turned to Han Shiche, who stood and bowed.

"Elder, this is my finished painting," he presented.

The old man took it, laying it out on the center table. Both Lingxin and Guozijian disciples gathered around. While Lingxin disciples looked at it in silence, Guozijian disciples loudly complimented the painting. 

"Senior Brother is truly the most talented!" 

"To create such an amazing painting in such a short time, Senior Brother, I wish I had half your skills!"

"Senior Brother, this painting is perfect!"

Yujia looked down at Han Shiche's painting as well. He painted a similar mountain range, though without pine at the front. It seemed like more of a distant capture of the scenery. The painting was indeed not bad; she had to give him that. He did a good job at layering his ink. 

Except, after seeing it, she truly had no worries. She knew her painting was better. 

"This is indeed a very good painting," the elder said, not hesitating to put on a smile. He pointed a finger to trace the range. "Look at the way you highlighted the peaks of the mountains, and the way you faded them out at the bottom. To create this in such a limited time… I am thoroughly impressed." 

Limited time? Yujia couldn't help but smile as well. Guozijian had an hour and thirty minutes to paint. She had fifteen minutes. Who had the actual limited time?

"Does Elder wish to judge my painting?" she proposed, having enough of their meaningless compliment session.

The elder glanced over, losing the smile as he looked at her, unamused. "I suppose you can display yours," he permitted with a careless voice, "but I will not blame you if you choose not to."

What was that supposed to mean? Telling her to just admit to a loss? Yujia's eyebrow twitched. Could his bias be more clear, at this point?

Although she didn't particularly like the composure of this elder, she kept her cool. Turning, she went to pick up her painting, then placed it on the table.Find authorized novels in , faster updates, better experience, Please click <a href="#!_11701767605489305/borrowed-styles-of-the-artist_52196380881508537">#!_11701767605489305/borrowed-styles-of-the-artist_52196380881508537</a> for visiting.

"My fifteen-minute painting," she mused. "Looking forward to seeing Elder's critique."

The elder was originally turned to Han Shiche, presumingly still giving a compliment. His disinterested gaze flashed to her painting for the briefest second, before flashing away, as he was about to resume his compliment.

But then, his words fell off halfway. He stopped, turning fully to her painting. It was as if the brief view that he had seen through his peripheral vision had finally processed in his brain. Yujia expected him to say something quickly, like he did before he even saw Han Shiche's painting for a full second. However, he remained silent, eyes fixed on her painting in a long, long stare. 

Moments passed.

The Guozijian students stopped in their chatter, noticing his silent observation. They looked at her painting, and Yujia could see the moment they saw it through the ways their eyes widened in awe. The Lingxin disciples looked very, very closely as well.

Pure silence. More moments passed.

Yujia honestly expected this reaction. What could she say? 

She had spent hours upon hours during her first month of transmigration painting generic mountain paintings. Speed, to her, was not a challenge. Even if she didn't like to paint scenery, it was more than easy to paint mountains of any sort now, due to all of that muscle memory and training. Furthermore, this time, she had actually taken her time to enjoy the view from Huangshan's peak. As she incorporated her memories to the page, she was sure that the painting was brimming with Spirit Resonance.

Besides all that, she also had a cheat that Han Shiche could've never had. He could've painted thousands of mountain paintings like her, studied the Huangshan scenery to extreme detail like her, but never in his life could he have ever— ever— lived in the modern world and seen the paintings of countless famed painters that would rise up in the future.

Huang Binhong's luxuriant style. Wang Hui's rhythmic elegance. Ju Ran's tendency to use light ink. Mi Fu's wash and horizontal stroke technique. Zhang Daqian's and Wang Mo's splashed-ink technique. 

Yujia held the power to channel all of this, and it was a power enough to elevate her fifteen minute painting from a messy splatter to an awe-inspiring piece. Be it an hour and a half or ten hours, without techniques and methods like this, Han Shiche could not compare to her.

Sure enough, the silence was finally broken when the elder looked up at her, eyes shining.

"This—" he began, voice a stammer, "how?" He looked back at the page, then at her. "How did you— how did you paint something this amazing?"

Yujia gave him a close-lipped smile. She glanced over at Han Shiche, observing his expression. His face had paled. Yujia decided she liked that look on him.