Crimson Moon and Jade Splendor

Gu Fei was a person of utmost focus, whatever task she deemed necessary, she would devote herself entirely to it. Others praised her for her exceptional talent in ink-making, but none knew how much she had sacrificed to master the craft. For every ink pellet she produced, from carving the mold to pounding and shaping, if there was the slightest flaw, she would discard it without hesitation and start anew, stopping only when perfection was achieved.

At the Ink Competition, she was no different. The moment her fingertips touched the soot, she seemed transformed; in her eyes, nothing else in the world mattered compared to the instant of blackness beneath her hands. Thus, she paid no heed to how other ink-makers worked, nor did she notice whether Mo Yuhua had finished his ink. Her mind was wholly absorbed in the desk before her, endlessly contemplating the form of the ink pellet, from its style to its color, and what gold patterns to inscribe. Her hands moved ever faster, following each step, shaping the ink blank into the vision in her mind.

It was as if she were forging something from nothing, and her hands possessed divine power to refine scattered soot into a dark ink pellet, infused not only with deer glue and other ingredients but with her very heart and soul.

With a crisp click, the six-sided mold locked into place.

As she completed the final movement, Gu Fei spread her fingers, her pale hands stained with grime, even her cuffs unintentionally smudged, yet she cared not at all.

A resounding gong echoed through the hall.

Gu Fei emerged from her creative trance to find a maidservant approaching with a tray. Feng Puyu stood at the front, beginning his inspection with the first ink-maker.

He could only examine the molds, not the blanks inside, but Feng Puyu showed great interest nonetheless. After his review, maidservants would carefully place the molds on trays and carry them to a drying chamber.

When he reached Gu Fei, he lingered, watching her as she wiped her hands with a cloth, paying him no mind and unlike the others who sought to curry favor with smiles. Feng Puyu laughed, picked up her mold, and scrutinized it.

His brows furrowed at once.

Judging by the residual ink crumbs on the mold, it was clearly fine powder of superior quality, but the carving work was rather mediocre, mismatched with the quality.

Gu Fei cared little for Feng Puyu's thoughts; the mold was prepared by Huang Pinyuan ahead of time. In her eyes, it was far beneath her standards, but she had no choice but to use it—first, to avoid being recognized, and second, for it was not yet time to confront Huang Pinyuan.

After wiping her hands, she signaled to the two burly men behind her, who immediately stepped forward, lifting her chair and escorting her off the stage.

After Feng Puyu finished inspecting all the molds and the maids had collected them, he stroked his beard and addressed the crowd, "Today's Ink Competition will pause here. All ink blanks will be sent to the drying chamber under the supervision of the judges. In three days, the final winner shall be decided."

As his words fell, the spectators who had come for the spectacle let out a cheer and gradually dispersed.

Gu Fei remained surrounded by the Huang family, the long black veil fluttering in the breeze. She looked up to see Feng Lizhi hesitating, then approaching.

Huang Pinyuan glanced at Gu Fei and signaled his son, Huang Rufeng.

Huang Rufeng was quick-witted this time; he stepped forward, blocking Feng Lizhi's view, and smiled, cupping his hands, "Young Master Feng, is there something you need?"

Meanwhile, Huang Pinyuan motioned for his servants to lift the chair, quietly ushering Gu Fei away amidst the group.

Feng Lizhi tried to peer past Huang Rufeng, but could see no trace of the black veil. He paused, then smiled, "Brother Huang, that's not very generous of you."

Huang Rufeng was taken aback. Normally, Feng Lizhi was arrogant and never spoke so amiably to someone of his frivolous reputation. He frowned and replied, "What do you mean, not generous?" Yet inwardly, he wondered if he had unknowingly offended Feng Lizhi, perhaps by winning the favor of a girl he fancied? But he had heard nothing of the sort...

Feng Lizhi, unaware of Huang Rufeng's thoughts, continued, "The Huang family has a new ink-maker. Brother Huang knows well that I have no hobbies besides ink-making—my passion for it rivals yours for women. Yet you refuse to introduce me and hurry her away."

Huang Rufeng stifled a laugh with his fist, glanced around to ensure no one was near, then whispered into Feng Lizhi's ear, "Brother Feng, it's not that I won't introduce you, but that person is quite insolent and would surely offend you, which would harm our friendship."

He paused, eyes gleaming mischievously. "But next time we visit Flower Pavilion, I’ll introduce you to a girl who will drive a man wild with desire—guaranteed, once you taste her, you'll never forget..."

Feng Lizhi's face cooled at the lewd words. He raised his chin, his gaze proud and disdainful, "Save such girls for yourself, Young Master Huang. I have no interest. Farewell."

With that, he cupped his hands and swept away.

Huang Rufeng stood there, puzzled at how quickly Feng Lizhi's mood had changed. He spat at his departing figure, "What's he so proud about, pretending to be high-minded..."

Three days passed in a flash. When the molds were removed and the blanks revealed, after the final polishing and gold inlay, a complete ink pellet could be displayed.

On this day, the crowd was even larger than before, the east market gate packed to overflowing.

Gu Fei, as before, wore a black veil, but she did not represent the Huang family on stage. Huang Pinyuan, fearing she might slip in front of the public, chose experienced masters for the final rounds.

Whether the rules of the Yizhou Ink Competition were lax or Huang Pinyuan had done his homework, not even the five judges, including Feng Puyu, raised any objections. On stage, Mo Yuhua only glanced at Gu Fei’s spot, then paid her no further attention.

With thorough preparation, there were no major issues during mold removal. All the ink blanks from the competing families were flawless, with no cracks.

The Huang family’s master, having been briefed in detail by Gu Fei, was confident, knowing she had poured her all into the ink-making.

Within an hour, the ink-makers began their final polish. Mo Yuhua was the fastest—his blanks were so well-made they needed little refinement. He quickly applied gold inlay with a brush, becoming the first to present his ink pellet.

The second was the Huang family’s master. Gu Fei’s blank was equally outstanding—so perfect he could barely find room to polish, only needing to round the edges and trace gold patterns according to the printed design, then let it dry.

When all ink-makers had submitted their pellets, Feng Puyu sprang up, pushing the others aside and picking up Mo Yuhua’s and Gu Fei’s.

Mo Yuhua’s was round, with a carved Nine Heavens Vermilion Bird in flight, lifelike and vivid, and the other side bore the seal script “Crimson Moon Jade Glory.” The design was exquisite, lofty, and elegant—a collector’s piece.

Gu Fei’s, made with Huang Pinyuan’s prepared mold, was a simple silver ingot shape, one side inscribed with fine Sanskrit, the other with vertical “Made by Huang Family Workshop.”

At the outset, hers had already lost to Mo Yuhua in design.

Gu Fei sighed inwardly, yet she was confident in the quality of her ink, which would not lose to Mo Yuhua’s, so she had no worry.

Indeed, Feng Puyu immediately rolled up his sleeves and ground the ink himself. Thick black ink spread across a lotus pond moonlit inkstone, leaving behind a subtle fragrance.

Impatient to write with both samples, he grasped two brushes, one in each hand, and simultaneously inscribed.

Such dual-handed artistry—drawing a circle with one hand, a square with the other—instantly drew cheers from within and outside the hall.

Feng Puyu simply copied the inscriptions from the ink pellets: with his right hand, “Crimson Moon Jade Glory”; with his left, “Made by Huang Family Workshop.” Both brushes fell and stopped together.

A servant stepped forward, unfolding the two sheets of white paper, black characters stark against the page. Gu Fei glanced only once, but her gaze could not tear away from the words “Crimson Moon Jade Glory.”

A thunder echoed in her mind, an ancient memory stirred—someone had once said:

“Crimson Moon, Scarlet Moon, all are Crimson…”

“Jade Glory, Glorious Jade, all because of the Moon…”

“Crimson Moon Jade Glory, Ah Fei, remember these four words represent your Ink Crimson and my Ink Jade Glory. It means we are both ink-making prodigies; someday, we will bring glory to our little Ink Family together…”