The gatekeeper looked the two people up and down. Their clothes were decent enough; they clearly looked like sons of wealthy families—except why did they look as if they'd just rolled through a mud pit?
The young man saw this and secretly cried bitterly in his heart.
This really wasn't his fault. Back when he was in the capital, he'd heard that Lu's had paintings by Mr. Shanju, so of course he had to see them with his own eyes.
So he had seen those two paintings, and now that he'd come to the real scenes depicted in them—especially hitting just the right time when the sunflowers were in bloom—he couldn't help feeling a little overexcited. When he climbed the mountain, he wanted to find the very angle Mr. Shanju had used when painting, to look at that sea of golden sunflowers.
For that, he went straight over the guardrail that had been specially set up along both sides of the mountain path.
