Chapter 135: Eerie

"What's so strange about that? It would be more abnormal if an ancient painting didn't have something strange about it," Fubao mumbled, taking a bite of her pickled vegetable pancake.

"The way that painting looked, it was definitely ancient, but the feeling it gave off was just too bizarre."

"Oh, honestly! Anything that has survived for a long time will naturally develop a spirit, and once it has a spirit, it's bound to cause a stir. Otherwise, wouldn't it be terribly lonely?" Fubao rolled her eyes at Gong Dahan, clearly unimpressed that he didn't understand such a simple concept.

"So you're saying that painting has turned into a monster?" Gu Li recalled the sensation from that morning and felt goosebumps erupt all over his skin.

"Ah, so that thing is a demon!" Miss Chen Jia covered her mouth, whispering for fear of disturbing the colleagues nearby.

"Oh, don't worry, don't worry! Since the masters brought them for us to study, it means there's nothing wrong with the paintings themselves. The masters are experienced; if there were truly an issue, they would have burned them long ago instead of letting us look at them," Fubao said, looking at the jittery Miss Chen with a sense of helplessness.

"That's true," Miss Chen said, patting her chest in relief.

"Alright, alright, let's stop talking about this. Let's just eat; I'm starving," Gong Shaoyu urged, unwilling to dwell on such brain-taxing matters.

"Agreed." The group fell silent. Meanwhile, in the Headmaster’s study, a crowd of masters was gathered around a desk, chattering away.

"What is this? The person in the painting moved? You all must have collectively gone senile," the Headmaster said, crossing his legs and sipping his tea while eyeing the elderly men with a skeptical gaze. Why were they running around spouting nonsense in the middle of the day instead of resting? Were they that bored?

"Honestly! It's true. The batch of paintings you collected yesterday is problematic," said Master Yang, Gu Li's painting instructor.

"How is that possible? I spent so much effort collecting those famous works; how could there be a problem?"

"Just look! These are the drafts submitted by the students today. Take a look," Master Yang said, handing over a stack of papers.

"Drafts? Let me see." The Headmaster took the papers and began to read.

"Not bad, not bad. The language is flowery, though not overly gaudy..." he muttered, continuing to skim.

"Who asked you to critique their literary style? Please look at the content!" the frustrated Master Yang exclaimed, clearly reaching his limit.

"Alright, alright, I'm looking, I'm looking." The Headmaster felt helpless, fearing he might give Master Yang a heart attack; he had never seen the old man this agitated.

However, as he read, he faltered. "What is going on here?" The content varied, but the message was the same: each piece was filled with a sense of stifled melancholy and deep pessimism. Some even wrote about the frustration of having talent that went unrecognized.

The bewildered Headmaster sat in silence.

Talent unrecognized? My foot! They don't even have two ounces of ink in their bellies, and they’re out here claiming their talent is unrecognized?

"Headmaster, I believe this matter is suspicious. I fear there is something wrong with these paintings. Do you remember the red stains on some of them? We thought it was just pigment, but now it seems likely to be blood," Master Yang said with a grave expression.

The Headmaster thought, *Please, don't say that; you're scaring me.*

"Headmaster, Master Yang is right. This batch of paintings cannot be kept. Regardless of whether there is a problem or not, we cannot gamble with the students' safety. If something were to happen, we could never bear the responsibility," another master stepped forward to say.

"That's right, that's right," the others agreed, realizing the gravity of the situation.

The Headmaster pondered for a moment. "Fair point. Let's do this: have people gather the paintings. To avoid causing a panic, we will burn them tonight after the students have returned home and the academy is empty."

"Fine, let's do that," Master Yang said, slamming his hand on the table.

The Headmaster sighed, "Stay calm, please."