Even though it was supposed to be a friendly painting session, Guan Yinping found herself stirring with apprehension. Her drawings were far from perfect, pocked by tons of accidental ink stains. Her "calligraphy", if it could even be considered that, looked like the inane scribblings of Zhang Jiao after a bender.

Knowing that someone like Ma Dai, a true artist and an exceptionally talented painter, would be overseeing her creations made her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She hoped he'd be kind enough not to laugh.
It would be the first time she'd let a man into her personal chambers. Even though the purpose of this rendezvous was not-at-all inappropriate for two distinguished military officers, she couldn't help but giggle to herself at the thought. Her father would have paid her a few impromptu visits throughout the course of the evening, his molten gaze pinned on the two of them. Knowing Ping, he would have done the same – he was always so overprotective. She used to think that they would never let her do anything by herself. That was before.

Suddenly, she could feel her eyes getting wet.

I shouldn't cry. They would not want to see me this way…

She squeezed her eyes shut, stubbornly denying herself of tears. How many times was she going to do this to herself? She'd be floating in her inner thoughts like normal people do in their day-to-day lives – then, just as quickly, she would remember again. She'd recall bits and pieces of things she thought she had forgotten, things that made her chest tighten and her hands shake.

Hopefully, her remaining brothers weren't planning on bothering them because she found herself craving space. Xing was discussing new strategies with Zhuge Liang, and Suo had been dispatched to deal with some bandit raids in the south. She would be spared the awkwardness of her brothers making Ma Dai feel like another no-good lecher, there to corrupt their innocent baby sister with his filthy paint and weirdly flamboyant hat.

Regardless, she was certain that Ma Dai, of all people, didn't have any other purposes in mind for their meeting. He knew perfectly well that if he tried anything funny, she'd break him (and his paintbrush) in two. Just like countless other unfortunate, puny people during moments when she forgot her bear-like strength.

—

The sunlight had been slowly trickling out of the room for the past hour. Still, no Ma Dai.

The tea she had asked the maidens to prepare was already growing cold. Maybe he had changed his mind. Maybe he had decided that he had better things to do than waste time watching her desecrate the art of calligraphy. The poor guy probably didn't have the heart to tell her; she'd totally understand.

Still, Yinping could feel the disappointment sinking in. Ma Dai was the one who had wanted to meet and paint together in the first place! Nevertheless, she half-heartedly brushed out some lines of Cai Wenji's poetry in messy characters. Xingcai had always said that skipping training was inexcusable, even if it wasn't combat training.

During the rare occasions she was able to practice caligraphy, she'd occupy herself with copying scrolls about war strategies. She used to find the task torturously boring – Zhang Fei had even once suggested they have Zhuge Liang read it to the enemy, put them to sleep. (Lord Liu Bei hadn't taken too kindly to the suggestion.) These days, however, she could barely stomach reading about the feats of smoke and blood she had witnessed in real life, on the battlefield.

She wasn't much of a scholar, either, but Cai Wenji's works were always a joy to read. She lost herself in the characters for a while, vaguely aware of the sadness caused by the empty chair next to her.

Her heart jumped at the sound of heavy footsteps echoing through the walls - someone was frantically tearing through the corridor. The thumps were accompanied by an occasional "I'm sorry!" or "Coming through!" yelled by a very familiar voice. She imagined him running into walls in his frenzy, tripping over tables and servants.

He slid to a halt outside her chambers – it was a true miracle her late guest did not crash into the door – and then after a quiet knock, a maid entered her room with a slightly amused smile on her face.

"My lady, Lord Ma Dai came to see you. Should I let him in?"

"Oh, so he's finally here?" Yinping jumped up from her chair, dropping her brush. It fell in an explosion of ink onto her paper, her messy writing soon overwhelmed by a growing black stain. It looked as if she had milked a squid on her desk.

"Yes, of course, he can enter."

He appeared at the doorway, clutching a carved box underneath one arm and a scroll in the other. His face was flushed red, and his hair stood out in an even unrulier mess than usual. Weirdly, for once, his signature hat was nowhere to be seen.

"My lady… Sorry… to keep… you waiting…" He managed to wheeze out, bowing his head and shooting her apologetic glances.

A sense of ease rushed into her – it suddenly seemed very silly to think he had forgotten. That he hadn't wanted to see her again.

"I could not… find my old painting…" He presented the rolled-up scroll to her gaze. "I wanted to finish it today."

"I thought you weren't going to show up. I'm so glad you're finally here!" She giggled slightly at his appearance. He looked as if Shu had announced their surrender to Wei; and from what she had heard coming from the corridor, she regretted not being able to see him in all his panic-stricken glory.

"So you were the one causing all the commotion outside? Did you run all the way here?" She was pretty sure he didn't ride his horse into the hallway. "Your quarters are on the other side of the castle. No wonder you're out of breath!"

"Yeah… I realized that I…" He paused for a moment, taking in a few deep, loud breaths. His voice shifted back to its usual cheerful tone, and he smiled. "It dawned on me that I was late, and it's not honorable to make a lady wait, so… I kinda ran all the way here. Thankfully, I didn't kill myself or anyone on the way." He looked up. "But you should have seen the way people were looking at me! But I don't mind. I couldn't disappoint you, Lady Yinping." He glossed over her work with his eyes. "I see that you've already started. What texts are you copying?"

"Cai Wenji's poetry and…" Then she noticed the unsightly, black stain still spreading through the paper. From what she could salvage with her gaze, her writing didn't look that horrible for once, and the characters actually resembled proper calligraphy. Too bad it was getting engulfed by ink. "I must have ruined it when I dropped the brush…"

"Don't be sad, my lady, it happens to all of us sometimes." He came closer to the table to get a closer peek at her work. So far, it wasn't so bad at all – there was still room for improvement, of course. All she needed was some good advice, and her calligraphy would look splendid. If she put as much effort into her writing as she did into her combat drills, she could even be a match for his skills in less time than he thought. "But I'd have to say, your handwriting is very nice. Most people make a mess of the characters, but I have no problem reading yours."

She felt her face start to heat up again. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was just trying to be kind towards her. "Thank you, lord Ma Dai, but my writing isn't so great at all. I always end up making a mess, and…"

"Trust me on one thing, Lady Yinping. I've seen more than enough bad writing styles in my life. My cousin, for example, is horrible. Once, he wrote me a letter that took me a whole day to understand, mostly because I'd been reading it upside-down." He cringed inwardly at the memory of Ma Chao's rabid scrawl. To him, the young lord's horse would probably do a better job at writing.

He had expected a laugh or smile from her at the least, but she remained quiet. Laughing at Ma Dai's only living family seemed inappropriate. She still remembered how sad his smile had been the last time she had mentioned his only cousin. Instead, she seated herself and pointed at the unoccupied chair next to her. "Please, have a seat, so we can get started. I hope you don't mind that the tea is a little cold, though."

She didn't seem to be in the mood to laugh, so he followed her request before opening up the box he had brought with him. Inside, there were many different brushes, paper sheets of various grains, a wonderfully carved inkstone, several inksticks, a seal, and a beautiful green seal paste housed in a porcelain case. All of it looked very well-made compared to her mediocre equipment. She wasn't a professional artist by any means, so she never felt the need to get herself a better set. Too many poor brushes had met their splintery demise between her strong fingers.

"Your calligraphy set is really beautiful, Lord Ma Dai." She examined the contents of the set with fascination. "All of it looks really nice. You must take really good care of it."

"It only looks this neat because I don't use this one much; but thank you, my lady." Even with war-hardened fingers, he handled the brushes with a gentleness that made her smile. "You should see the ones I use back home in Liang. Completely worn up."

He slowly unfurled the scroll, opening up a scene of nature before her very eyes. It was a valley festooned by trees with a river flowing through its center, underneath a little bridge. Even though it looked halfway done, it was already so strikingly beautiful. She wondered if such a pristine valley ever existed anywhere – it would be such a wonderful place for them to ago, an escape from the bloodshed that characterized their current lives.

He noticed her staring and sighed. "I know. It's horrible, but I'll try to make it look somewhat decent. I probably shouldn't be showing you something this awful." No matter how hard he tried, he never seemed satisfied with the end result.

"What? No, it's wonderful! You're such a great painter!" she blurted. "Even if it's just a draft, everyone would love it!"

Ma Dai stared at her in disbelief. For him, it was anything and everything but nice. Still, his comedic frown shifted into a smile. "If you say so, my lady. I guess there's no point in arguing with you."

He poured some water onto the inkstone and began chipping away at it with the inkstink. The scent of sandalwood tickled Yinping's senses.

"It smells nice," she commented idly.

"The inksticks I'm using are infused with an essential oil. Makes the work even more pleasant." He looked up at her, his hand still working at the inkstone. "I hope you like sandalwood, my lady, because I wouldn't want to use something you find unpleasant."

"Yes, it's really lovely. Are there other ones like that?" She watched as the shreds of inkstone melted into the water.

"Sure, I suppose. You'd probably like the ones with wild rose oil," he said, taking note of the flowers in her hair. Combined with those ribbons, she looked really adorable. "I can pick some up for you. To get the really good ones, you need to know the right merchants. Thankfully, I know a guy."

They partook in the tea during their idle chatter, even if it tasted more like lukewarm well water now. Ma Dai had finally gotten some proper rest and was ready to paint with such lovely company. Zhuge Liang had asked him to train a new calvary unit, so he'd stick around in Chengdu for a spell. He'd had more than enough of travelling between here and Liang, listening to Ma Chao's justice-talk.

"My servants at home are probably taking a break now that I'm gone," he quipped. "I'm such a slob with my work, inkstains and paper everywhere. They must hate me."

Yinping started her work from scratch, being especially careful this time around. Painting had never been her calling, but it all felt very nice, nonetheless. She couldn't remember the last time she had someone to share a hobby with and talk about pleasant things for once. She thanked the heavens that Ma Dai was not a gloomy type of person – these days, she was finding it a struggle to shoulder through her own pains, much less others. Or, at least to her, he was very adept at masking his own sorrows.

She wondered if her suppositions were true after all. And if so, did he have anyone to share his pain with? She had only witnessed him falling over himself to make everyone else happy, but what about him? Had he been suffering quietly behind that jovial smile? For how many years?

"My lady, if you don't mind, may I offer you some advice? Please forgive my blunt behaviour in advance."

He lowered himself by Yinping, gently taking her painting hand into his own. Together, they moved the brush along the paper. Her skin burned as he held her. She knew he was just helping her, yet she was afraid she was going to burst into flames underneath his gaze.

"You use too much pressure when you're writing. I know it must be hard for you, considering your strength." He could feel her hold on the brush loosen slightly. "Remember that slow, gentle strokes of the brush will give you the best results. See, you're doing amazingly. Now, try on your own." He finally released her hand, and his suggestion appeared to work – the characters came out looking softer.

"Uhm… thank you." She uttered, hoping he did not notice her reddening cheeks.

He returned to his seat without further comment and continued his work. While she was struggling with a few characters, his painting was nearly done. Wei's Zhang He would have been envious of its splendor. However, the painter's facial expression attracted more of her interest.

Ma Dai had never looked so peaceful. He was not smiling or frowning, but he just seemed so content and calm, almost serene. The movement of his arm seemed so natural, as if he were controlling the water in the meadow rather than the brush painting the meadow. She thought him very gentle – only a person with consummate awareness of the world around him could create such awe-inspiring wonders with just silk paper and ink.

"My lady, is there something on my face that's making you stare at me with such dedication?"

Yinping jolted slightly in her chair. He didn't move, but his eyes shifted to meet her gaze. Instantly, she felt her face light up all over again as he flashed her a grin.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!" she quickly explained. "But you looked so happy when painting, so I kind of ended up staring. I'm so sorry!"

"Hey, don't feel embarrassed, my lady. Please, keep smiling. You look so lovely when you smile."

Her blush only got deeper. How awful she must look in that moment. Already flustered, she felt brave enough to ask him something, something he might start hating her for.

"Uhm, you look very nice as well when you smile. I mean, you always smile." She surveilled his expression, checking to see if she had already overstepped her boundaries. Thankfully, he didn't seem all that bothered.

"Well, yes, I don't have many reasons to mope after all. I'm the guy that cheers everyone up." He responded without hesitation, but she couldn't help but feel that it was a lie. True, he ventured to make everyone else happy, but even a person like him needed someone to rely on during his worst days. He had already shown her so much kindness. She had to know if there was more she could do for him, the painter with the sad eyes.

"But if you feel sad…" Yinping carefully chose her words. She didn't want to sound too nosy. "Do you have someone you can talk to?"

Ma Dai suddenly lowered his arm to his side, setting down his brush. Someone was asking him how he felt. No one had done that in such a long time. He wanted to purge everything in that moment. How no one seemed to think he needed anyone to be there for him, to listen to him sometimes. How his loneliness was threatening to eat him alive most days. How his only living family left, despite being a great man, had no idea how much he needed someone, anyone to let him ease his burden a little.

"No." He immediately shielded his face with a cheerful smile. He didn't want her, the girl who had lost nearly half her family, to start worrying about him, too. "I don't need anyone for that."

"Good to know…" He was lying. He was obviously lying about how he felt. This was his nature, to care about others but not about himself – it hurt her heart. He was such a lovely, thoughtful man; she could not let him suffer on his own without offering help. "But if you ever feel alone or just need someone to listen to you, talk to me, okay? I'll gladly hear you out."

His mouth parted at her words. The girl next to him was apparently so dedicated to repaying him that she'd even sit through hearing about his menial, ridiculous problems. Of course, he wouldn't burden her with what was truly on his mind, but he felt thankful. For once, someone was gifting him a shoulder to cry on.

"Thank you, Guan Yinping. I will remember that." He spoke softly, in almost a whisper as he reached down to dunk his brush in the ink.

"Lord Ma Dai?"

"Yes, my lady?"

"You just put your brush in your tea cup!" She started to laugh. The face he made was priceless. Yet, she felt she could understand him a little better. At least, that was what she had hoped.

"Well, let's say tea with ink is a very interesting blend, but it leaves awful stains on your teeth. I know from experience." His smile became a brief grimace.

She giggled.

—

"See you." He gave a final wave before disappearing through the doorway, leaving only a promise of a "next time" in her thoughts.
Now, she was as she had been that morning, alone in her room, only with a hopeful smile gracing her lips. Even though the sun was almost hidden behind the horizon, she continued to write poetry in mindful strokes.

His tips were certainly useful; she felt herself improving with every flared line. Then, she remembered the touch of his hand on her own, how warm and soft it was…

The snap of the brush handle brought her back from her thoughts.

"Ugh, that's the fifth one this month," she groaned.

Notes: The caligraphy set consisting of brush, paper, inkstone and ink is called "Four Treasures of the Study" although this proper name for it wasn't used in the Three Kingdoms era.
The name appears to originate in the time of the Southern and Northern Dynasties.