บท 290: A Draw?

With a gentle shake from Zhang Xuan, the ink on the xuan paper flowed down. The many footsteps left behind by the savage beast were linked together by a dark stroke, forming a painting of haughty and unyielding plum blossoms.

The portion where the ink flowed through formed a black dry tree bark, on which, plum blossoms bloomed sporadically. Looking rather desolate from afar, one could feel bone-chilling intent from the painting, as if the bitter winter had struck.

The location where the savage beast fell formed two glaring boulders, and the marks left behind by its fur formed ridges of differing depths on the surface of the boulder.