Evidently, Zhao was not shunned by everyone who was against the Yuan dynasty, because the painting shown above was made for a fellow literati by the name of Zhou Mi, whom Zhao would apparently visit. Like many other unrecognized scholars, or yimin as they were called, Zhou had decided to move away from his old duties and live simply in the South. Zhou's lineage could be traced back to the Shandong Province, but due to this being a more northern territory, he had never been able to see it for himself. Zhao understood how his friend may have grown homesick, so he painted a vision of the Shandong landscape based on how he saw it during his travels. Autumn Colors was painted entirely from memory, and besides the mountains in the background, the land shown in his artwork doesn’t directly mirror any real location in Shandong. Instead, Zhao tried to visually summarize the spirit or feelings of being there. The most recognizable landmarks depicted are the two blue-colored mountains, Mount Hua and Mount Que, which could have been positioned to imply the scene was being viewed from the loyal South, where Zhou then lived. Despite going in opposite directions, both Zhao and Zhou clearly suffered from Mongol rule in similar ways, and likely communicated their displeasure through art. 

This particular handscroll is completely focused on the branches of juniper trees, highlighting their erratic twists and turns. The branches don’t seem to be directed in any particular order, but they still overlap and connect with each other to form a mess of implied lines. The viewer would follow these forms in their own order as they try to interpret the organic linework for themselves. With such a simple subject matter contorted so unconventionally, it was natural and even intended for those viewing it to imagine their own secondary images. Wen himself would try to see the branches as dragons clawing through the air. 

Later, when Wen was fifty years old, he was given the opportunity to learn and teach at the Imperial Academy. He did accept this offer, but ultimately taught for only four years before going back to his true callings in the arts. He would continue with his love for the craft up until his last moments, where it is said he passed away while writing a tomb inscription, with a brush still in his hand. 

One piece that serves as a great example of Hua’s energetic nature would be the hanging scroll painting titled Snow on Mount Tian. Not much is shown in the picture besides a man and his camel traversing through snowy white mountainscapes, giving the picture a feel of placid, almost lonely, isolation. Despite the somewhat bleak atmosphere, there are a few features that help the scroll maintain a playful mood. The human figure, a foreign man in his bright red shawl, is accompanied by his large camel, as they simultaneously raise their heads to spot a single bird far off overhead, possessing similar facial expressions as they do so. The similar posing of both man and animal, along with the patterns of hair they have in common, creates a sort of visual gag for viewers that also brings the figures closer together in a way. Depicting the world with such an honest personality, along with an attention to detail, were large parts of what made Hua Yan’s work so endearing to both scholars and average people alike.