Painting

“To paint a good picture, you have to put a heart into it. And how can a heart hold just one emotion? There should also be hatred, resentment, the regret of wanting something you cannot have, and the bitter remorse of losing it!”

Bai An watched, trembling, as Mingzhu's father made a brush from her hair, peeled off her skin and dried it into painting paper, then pulled out her bones and ground them into a scroll. Finally, he ground her flesh into ink and, stroke by stroke, painted Mingzhu back to life.

Mingzhu in the painting had her eyes half lowered, her expression sorrowful, and her features were still as charming as they had been when she was alive.