Only then did he reach out his hand, lightly resting it on her head as naturally as one would lay a hand on the back of a chair, without any hint of ambiguity or aggression.
Hua Jie had barely calmed down when this gentle gesture overwhelmed her emotions once again.
The dark environment, the night, and having someone by her side all fanned the flames of her emotions.
Her sobbing resumed, and she even started to speak in a small, pitiful voice:
“Shen Mo, I’m scared.”
“You’re sitting here alone in the dark in the middle of the night, how could you not be scared?” He reached up and vigorously rubbed the top of her head.
The girl burst into laughter through her tears, chuckled twice, then started to drip tears again with a soft sob.
Shen Mo sighed, extended his arm around her other side, and firmly pulled her head to rest against his shoulder.
Hua Jie was a bit slow to realize the physical closeness between them.
Although she knew he was just comforting her as a good friend, she couldn’t help but feel her heart pounding frantically.
Was this like setting a trap to lure the handsome young man’s shoulder under her head?
She felt somewhat embarrassed, but as anxiety and fear filled her chest and threatened to overflow during the night, she couldn’t afford to focus too much on her shyness and quickly became sad again.
Shen Mo slightly lowered his head and saw the little potato with her hands curled in front of her chest, her legs tucked under her arms, her body curled into a ball next to him. Her long eyelashes were wet with tears, clumping together, shining with a moist luster.
She trembled and sobbed, pitiful like a little animal awaiting its fate.
His arm unconsciously tightened a bit, and she nudged closer into his shoulder.
With half her weight on him, he still felt a turmoil inside his chest, as if wanting to pull her completely into his arms, to hold her tight, to restrain her, to knead her, as if that would relieve him.
But… he could only endure.
He tilted his head back and stretched his neck, taking a deep breath from above, seeming to clear his mind a little.
Hua Jie didn’t need to say what she was afraid of; Shen Mo already knew.
She feared that she couldn’t shake off the artisanal feel, that she couldn’t forget the painting styles and strokes of others, that she couldn’t find herself in her paintings.
“My father didn’t say that during the upcoming half-year to a year of growth and improvement, finding one’s ‘painting soul’ would suffice?” Shen Mo’s voice was a bit hoarse, carrying the deep tone of someone who had been woken in the middle of the night and hadn’t relaxed yet, different from his daytime self.
It seemed somewhat unfamiliar, like a more mature and gentler man was speaking.
Hua Jie sniffed, looked up briefly, and saw the familiar jaw and lips above her eyes; then she pursed her lips and lowered her head again, maintaining her still posture.
“Moreover, he only said that finding your own style during this growth phase would be more comfortable.”
“He didn’t say you must find yourself within the next half-year or year.” He patted her head just above her ear, causing her hair to fly about:
“If you miss this growth period, you’ll just have to find your style during a bottleneck, which will be more stressful and painful.”
“But you are only 15, not under the kind of life pressure after graduation where society forces you to earn money and keep advancing.”
“Even if you don’t find it in the next year, you still have two years of high school, four years of college—six years without survival pressure. Isn’t that enough time to find yourself?”
He huffed and added:
“You’re so intelligent and spirited, what is there to fear?
“Do you really have so little confidence in yourself?”
“…” Hua Jie felt like her knees were shot through as she listened to the first part of his speech.
The pressure of life after graduation forcing someone to struggle without a moment to think about the future or find one’s initial passion—wasn’t that exactly her in her past life?
If it weren’t for his later compliments, she would have almost thought he was mocking her.
Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, she sighed, seemingly tired from crying.
Shen Mo pursed his lips, his gaze resting on her smooth forehead.
He began to wonder, between good friends and classmates, is it okay to kiss the forehead? Would that gesture be too excessive? Wouldn’t it make her overthink? Is it within the normal bounds of expressing friendship and comfort?
While he pondered, his face unconsciously moved closer.
Suddenly, the girl flinched, and he was instantly jolted awake, quickly tilting his head back to take a deep breath.
…Perhaps kissing the forehead is indeed a bit too much? Sigh…
He also sighed.
“What if I never find my own style? Just blindly mimicking others’ strokes, following others’ styles.”
“Qian Chong and the others would definitely look down on me.”
“How disappointed Teacher Shen would be…”
“When the time comes, you’ll get into China’s best university, study abroad, return as the top talent, become China’s richest person, and when you see a wasted life like Hua Jie’s on the street, you’ll probably pretend not to recognize me and just walk past.”
“No, it’s more likely I’ll never meet you again.”
“Then, I’ll live alone, not even having the energy to keep a dog, living out my life in gloomy solitude…”
Her voice became more choked up as she spoke, not waiting for him to respond, she continued:
“I once read a story, ‘Soul’, about a barber whose dream was to be a vet, but he never achieved it and spent his life happily cutting hair for his neighbors in a small barber shop.”
“That was supposed to be a heartwarming character, meant to convey that ‘even without dreams, without the relentless pursuit, one can still live a happy and meaningful life. Life shouldn’t be defined by dreams, it can take a million different forms, a million different kinds of happiness.'”
“But Shen Mo… when I watched that part, I didn’t find it heartwarming at all, I cried like I was going to die.”
“I’m so afraid, afraid I’ll end up like that barber, even if I can’t continue painting I still have to try to make myself happy. In my mind, that’s terrifying.”
“I can’t come to terms with it, I want to paint… I want to paint…”
Her sobbing intensified, her tone filled with panic.
She knew that if one day she had to give up painting, she would still need to find a way to live happily.
But the thought of such a day terrified her; inside, a seed called ‘fear’ was planted, growing wildly in the darkness of the night, as if it were going to swallow her whole.
Shen Mo didn’t interrupt her, his hand resting on her head, quietly listening to her pour out her heart, venting her emotions.
His heart ached softly, his thin lips pressed tightly into a straight line, the darkness masking his peach blossom eyes and the profound gentleness within them.
Standing on the stairs, Qian Chong, who had initially intended to go downstairs for some water, stood silently in place.
After quietly listening to Hua Jie’s words, he pursed his lips, his eyes slightly downcast, staring at his own toes, lost in thought.
A few moments later, he quietly turned back upstairs and silently returned to his room.
In the darkness, he groped his way back to his bed, lying awake with his eyes open, staring at the dim ceiling for a long time.
…
The snow mountain resort was quiet in the late night, except for the rhythmic sobbing of the girl in the hall.
Outside, the snow had started to drift down unknowingly, with occasional rustling sounds, seemingly from the snow weighing down and breaking branches.
Shen Mo’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched her, his eyelashes trembling lightly like the fine snow outside.
Why did she have so many ‘I should’, ‘I know I shouldn’t’, ‘I ought to’?
Shen Mo frowned; why did she force herself to be so sensible?
She could be weak, could be capricious; there need not be so much cautiousness.
The cheerful, active, and ambitious girl who laughed so easily during the day, beneath that tough exterior, housed such a fragile, sensitive, and insecure little girl.
He gently touched the top of her head, his fingers running through her soft hair, which made his heart feel a pang.
Only after she had finished speaking, focusing solely on crying, did Shen Mo speak.
He did not preach to her; he knew that once dawn broke, she would understand, regain her strength, and transform back into the energetic and beautiful young girl.
She was just experiencing a moment of vulnerability and fear on her path of striving.
She just needed a way to vent. That’s how people are—they understand everything, can get back up no matter how messy things are, and continue to strive for happiness, but they still cry, and they still have moments of weakness.
He asked her softly:
“Do you think I am the smartest person in the world? That I will become the wealthiest too?”
“Yes, Shen Mo is.” Her voice was hoarse, softly spoken.
The young man couldn’t help but smile in the shadows, “Then do you believe what I say? Do you trust my judgment?”
“Of course, you understand everything immediately, you get it all at once.” She said.
“Right, I’ve always been accurate about people, and I believe my understanding of the world is deeper than anyone else’s.” He nodded seriously, “So I accept your praise, you’re absolutely right.”
“…” Hua Jie looked up at him, almost forgetting to cry due to his self-praise.
“Then if I believe you are a very talented person, you must be.”
“No matter if you have a ‘painting soul’ or not, the painting you did of me today is the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen since I was born. I would be willing to pay 1 million to buy it.”
“I can pay in installments, ten thousand a year, starting with buying that painting.”
“See, with a future richest man like me appreciating your painting, will you worry about food in the future?”
He asked.
“Then you’ll have to keep paying for a hundred years.” She said with a throaty laugh.
He didn’t pick up on her joke, but continued:
“Moreover, I can tell that you are incredibly talented, and you’re smart. Within six months, you’ll surely begin to find your own style, gradually solidify it, and then expand upon it.”
“In a few years, you’ll become the most famous painter in the country, then internationally recognized, becoming the greatest painter in the world.”
“One painting will sell for a billion; money, well, you’ll earn it without a care, even finding the smell of money distasteful, as it pollutes the air of an artist.”
“Every time I want to visit you, I would have to burn incense, abstain from alcohol, and take baths in fresh flowers for forty-nine days, only then would you agree to meet me, otherwise you’d complain I lack the fragrance of an artist.”
“I come to your house, see you waking up with the sunrise, sitting on the deck chair in your large villa having breakfast, with dogs and cats at your feet.”
“After breakfast, you’d check the news on your computer, then leisurely stroll through your garden, water the flowers, enjoy the scenery.”
“Only then would you spare a moment to chat with me who has been waiting all morning, catching up on old times.”
“After sending me away, you’d start to paint, listen to blues, sip coffee, drink wine…”
“Stop, don’t talk anymore, even my dreams aren’t as beautiful as you describe.” Hua Jie finally sat up straight, and playfully slapped his shoulder.
“Hua Jie, don’t be afraid,” he turned his head, his handsome face bathed in moonlight, his expression so earnest it was almost saintly.
“…” Hua Jie stared intently at him, looking into his eyes that were as deep as pools, as vast as the sea, as boundless as the starry universe.
“Just charge forward like a warrior, don’t worry, don’t be afraid, just boldly paint. Even if you can’t reach my dad’s level for a while, or earn as much money from painting as he does, that’s okay, I’ll—” He stopped short before saying “support you,” the words meant to reassure her unspoken, the young man suddenly froze.
“You what?” The girl raised an eyebrow.
“…Nothing.” He fell silent.
Hua Jie looked at him with a puzzled expression, noticing Shen Mo appeared as if he had suddenly been stumped by a difficult math problem, completely lost in thought.
What was he going to say? Why did he stop abruptly, looking so distraught?
A few moments later, the young man still did not continue the earlier conversation.
He also kicked off his shoes, bent his legs, heels resting on the edge of the sofa, and slowly hugged his knees.
“Why are you sitting with your knees hugged too?” Hua Jie asked him.
Was he imitating her?
“Can’t I feel helpless too?”