The side facing the sun in the snowy field was particularly glaring. Hua Jie followed Shen Mo, walking and shading her eyes from the sunlight with her hand as they went.
The young man looked back at her, then glanced at the windows on the first and second floors of the villa, as if no matter where you stood, there was always a window capturing your silhouette.
He wasn’t comfortable being constantly in the sight of others, so with a tip of his toes, he turned towards the shaded back of the villa.
Just as they rounded the corner of the villa, they found an oven, a bundle of wooden skewers, and a bag of charcoal in the gatehouse by the side door.
Their eyes met, and instantly, they understood each other without a word.
Over the next ten minutes, Hua Jie quietly shuttled between the kitchen and the shaded areas of the holiday villa.
Like a little hamster stealing food, she mixed various seasonings in a small bowl, fished out a variety of meats and vegetables from the refrigerator, carried away a small bottle of oil, two large steamed buns, and a small knife.
Lu Yunfei sat in the hall, silently daydreaming, watching Hua Jie go back and forth without knowing what she was busy with.
He always felt her behavior was like that of some small animal, but couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly.
Fang Shaojun wandered on the snowy ground in front of the villa, listening to the crisp crunching sounds underfoot, squatting down to press snowballs into shape, then using a small wooden stick to sculpt them into different forms.
She turned her head, trying to find Shen Mo’s traces, but in the areas touched by sunlight, she couldn’t find that hint of black anywhere.
In the sunroom’s small tea room beside the hall, Shen Jiaru and Zhao Xiaolei sat facing each other, drinking tea.
The two watched the students’ paintings, occasionally exchanging a few words.
“Why does the teacher sigh while looking at Hua Jie’s painting? Is it very bad?” Zhao Xiaolei asked, puzzled.
To him, Hua Jie’s painting seemed technically flawless.
He didn’t understand; was it possible that his own aesthetic level was too low, hence he couldn’t discern the artistic aesthetic issues in Hua Jie’s painting?
“Of course not,” Shen Jiaru stared, astonished by the thought.
“It’s because…” Zhao Xiaolei was puzzled.
“Hua Jie is probably at the most critical fork in the road of her painting journey,” Shen Jiaru said, pinching his teacup, his gaze traveling through the window glass towards the distant mountains.
What was he doing at the age of 15?
It seems like he didn’t understand anything yet, just drawing based on feelings.
Yet, it was this drawing based on feelings that shaped him into who he is today—
The so-called “feeling” of his youth became the irreplaceable style and temperament in his adult paintings.
His achievements and status today may not be solely due to his obsession; luck also played a part, right?
In high school, he wasn’t the best painter among his peers, nor was he when he first started university.
There were many who had a stronger foundation than him.
But foundation and technique have their limits. As time accumulated, everyone, including those he painted with and his classmates, had established a similar level of foundational skills. At that point, the elements that couldn’t be achieved through diligence and practice began to distinguish them.
Whether it’s called talent or a gift, many people have different names for it.
But Shen Jiaru believes that it is his unique characteristic and expression, a painter’s temperament, the soul of a painting.
It cannot be learned through study; it requires the painter to find it themselves.
Perhaps it gradually forms as one continues to paint.
Perhaps it is inherent.
Or maybe it emerges suddenly by a stroke of insight.
However…
Among Shen Jiaru’s generation, very few truly possess the ‘soul of painting.’
Therefore, no matter how well they paint, they are unable to hold solo exhibitions or sell their paintings for a high price.
For many of his former classmates, selling a painting for around a thousand dollars was the ceiling.
If the market doesn’t suddenly improve or expand, it’s possible they could remain at this level for life.
And now, Hua Jie’s painting has reached the critical step of searching for the soul of the painting.
She is already very mature technically, and what remains for him to teach are just some minor details—
It’s very specific, like guiding her hand-in-hand in painting, lightening here a bit, darkening there a bit.
For a child who aspires to be a great painter, these kinds of tips are not very meaningful.
To teach someone to fish, you just need to teach the technique; he cannot go through each painting hand-in-hand to help her improve.
As she continues to paint more, her skills and techniques will naturally become more refined.
Her issue is that she still doesn’t have her own style.
Hua Jie’s paintings almost always surprise him.
It seems like her mind is always full of unexpected, clever ideas, using various styles and characteristics to make a painting interesting.
For someone learning to paint, this is very impressive. Now, if he were to sell her paintings, they would definitely fetch a price far beyond her peers and even most college students.
And everyone who sees her paintings would compliment how well she adapts to different painting styles.
However…
“Good adaptability in painting style” is a compliment for someone who wants to earn a living through painting.
Clients who commission ‘products’ will have all sorts of requests, and you can always find a style to match.
But this is a craftsman’s skill. Any painter, with decades of practice, can achieve this.
But if she wants to be a top-tier painter, to paint what she truly wants to paint, not just create what others have commissioned.
She needs to establish her own reputation and brand, and that means she cannot continue to waver in her painting style.
She needs to find her own unique ‘soul of painting.’
As her teacher, can he successfully guide her?
“Sigh.”
She has run too fast, mastering basic skills prematurely.
It caught him off guard and even made him feel immense pressure.
“She paints too well, reaching the stage where she needs to elevate her artistic realm at an age when she still understands so little.”
“If she cannot find her own style within six months, I worry her painting will become slick.”
“Once tainted with craftsmanship, it’s something that might stick with her for life.”
Shen Jiaru sighed. In this regard, he’s not worried about the other three disciples.
After all, Fang Shaojun and the others are not progressing very fast. They are slowly honing their skills while exploring their own style and expression.
He hasn’t seen too much indecision in these three children either; their painting styles are steady and gradually evolving, and it’s possible that they might naturally find their own ‘temperament’.
But Hua Jie…
“…” Zhao Xiaolei pursed his lips, he doesn’t have this kind of trouble at all.
Looking at Hua Jie’s paintings, he couldn’t help but say that her style is very avant-garde, but indeed different from her previous works.
If you put all her paintings together, it seems… indeed hard to determine they are by the same person.
It’s like a girl who wears different styles of clothes and changes her hairstyle every day.
It seems fresh every day, but it’s also hard for people to get a fixed impression of her.
Being versatile might actually mean being a jack of all trades, master of none, leaving no impression and thus no brand effect, which indeed poses a problem in the art world.
“However, although Hua Jie is only 15 years old, her psychological age is much more mature than the others, and the teacher needn’t worry too much about her. I believe once you talk to her, she will understand quickly,” Zhao Xiaolei reassured.
“Let’s hope so…” This step, she must take on her own; others can help only so much.
Shen Jiaru fell silent again, stared at the students’ paintings for a while, looked at the scenery outside, and started to itch to paint.
He casually grabbed a small sketchpad, dipped his brush in tea water, smeared some watercolor pigment, and scribbled on the paper. What seemed like two random strokes had a special effect on the tint that professionals could recognize.
Zhao Xiaolei, who was just about to relax and enjoy his tea, watched Teacher Shen start painting again and felt utterly powerless.
Being with someone so outstanding, the pressure is really great.
Whenever he wanted to relax and have some fun, the other person would suddenly pick up a brush and start painting, making him deeply realize that he was not only less talented but also less obsessed and diligent.
If he isn’t poor, who is?
Painting is not easy, Lei Lei sighed.
As the sun gradually climbed towards midday, the kitchen aunt rushed over and started to get busy in the kitchen.
But just when the kitchen aunt wanted to peel the potatoes, she suddenly realized—
Where has the small knife gone?
When she wanted to stir-fry beef rolls, she realized—
Where did the beef she brought over yesterday go?
While washing golden needle mushrooms, she also felt puzzled; she remembered preparing a big handful, so why did it seem like half was missing?
Eh? And her lamb… was that also missing?
…
Behind the wooden house, sheltered from the wind, faced a small lake.
The lake was frozen, silent like a cold mirror, reflecting the shadows of the trees on the shore, with the scenery above and below reversed, producing a strange dizzying effect after staring for a while.
Beyond the lake, the vast snowy plains rolled into the mountains, the distant mountains overlapping until they faded softly into the horizon.
Shen Mo sat by the grill, leisurely taking in the scenery, occasionally turning the skewers, quite contentedly.
The rich scent of meat gradually concentrated at the tip of his nose, his mouth watering slowly.
Hua Jie, wearing disposable gloves, wrapped golden needle mushrooms with beef and handed the skewer to Shen Mo, the makeshift grill assistant.
“Don’t make the fire too big; it’ll burn the skewers,” Hua Jie stopped Shen Mo from fanning the charcoal with a fan.
“You’re pretty professional,” the young man said, grabbing the skewers on the grill to flip them, brushing them with oil, and sprinkling on cumin and Sichuan pepper powder that the girl had prepared beforehand.
Drops of oil fell into the grill, hissing loudly and emitting plumes of white smoke, filling the air with fragrance.
He was already getting impatient.
“You keep grilling; don’t sneak a taste,” Hua Jie had finished skewering everything and placed it in a small bowl for Shen Mo to grill slowly.
She took off her disposable gloves, looked around to see that no one was nearby, and dashed back to the villa’s hall.
She quietly made two cups of hot milk, then scampered around in a big loop back to the sheltered spot behind the villa.
Just in time to catch Shen Mo lifting a skewer to his mouth.
“…I’m just checking if it’s cooked,” he said somewhat awkwardly.
“Here, hot milk.” She handed him a cup, then curled up next to him on a wooden stump, cradling her cup, blowing on it, and sipping softly.
Despite being sheltered at the back of the villa, the air was still very cold, both of their feet numb with cold, plus hunger making their bodies feel chilled, a coldness creeping in from the hems of their pants, the cuffs of their sleeves, and their collars.
Hua Jie scooted closer to him, reaching out her hand near the grill for warmth.
The heat from the grill dried their faces, but it was still better than being cold.
Shen Mo bit into the meat, wincing from the heat as he slowly chewed.
Gradually, the savory aroma filled his mouth, and although his expression seemed dried out from the grilling, the more he chewed, the juicier it became.
Blended with the flavors of cumin, charcoal, pepper, salt, and oil, it was so delicious that it made one’s head tingle.
Especially in such a cold environment, looking at the pristine, almost unearthly landscape around them, biting into such delicious grilled meat brought a sense of happiness that was simply incomparable.
Shen Mo quickly grabbed a skewer and handed it to Hua Jie, “Eat slowly, be careful, it’s hot.”
Come on, let’s enjoy this moment together!
Shen Mo swiftly devoured a whole skewer of lamb, took a sip of hot milk, and the warmth and the fragrant food together traveled down his esophagus, quickly warming his entire body from the inside out.
The beef rolls dripped with oil as Shen Mo flipped them over and started gobbling them up.
Eating so eagerly that he didn’t even bother to wipe the grease smudged around his mouth, the beef wrapped around the mushrooms was rich in texture, both fresh and aromatic.
The flavor of the beef infused into the mushrooms, juicy and chewy, was simply exhilarating.
Both of them, one squatting and the other curled up on the wooden stump, were so engrossed in eating skewer after skewer of meat, mushrooms, and potato slices that they hardly spoke.
They ate voraciously, the beautiful scenery in front of them sparkling, feeling as if they were in a fairyland, everything they saw seemed dreamlike.
In such a setting, each chew felt like fireworks exploding in their minds.
After devouring more than a dozen skewers in one go, they were thoroughly heated up.
Hua Jie took a big gulp of milk, then exhaled a long breath filled with the scent of milk.