The warm breath formed a white cloud in front of her, floating for a while before dissolving into the cold air and disappearing.
Sigh…
So satisfying, so blissful.
Eating skewers with Hua Jie, Shen Mo felt an intense sense of happiness.
He could no longer distinguish whether this feeling came from being with her or from the delicious food.
Being with her, why does it always seem like good things keep happening?
Is she his lucky star?
Perhaps Shen Mo was too joyful from eating too quickly; strange thoughts even began to flood his mind.
His gaze shifted from the skewers to Hua Jie. The girl was eating joyfully, her eyes moist, her eyebrows and eyes relaxed, her lips curved in a smile, her cheeks reddened by the fire and glowing with a clear sheen, like a ripe peach that made one want to take a bite, surely as juicy and sweet as a peach.
He took a quiet breath, and besides the aroma of meat and milk, he seemed to also smell her shampoo, the same one provided by the villa, which they both used.
Yet, there was a subtle difference in the scent, as if it faintly carried the unique sweetness of a young girl.
This made it a bit hard to restrain oneself amidst the surge of appetite.
Then, his gaze landed on her lips.
From his higher angle, her lower lip appeared particularly full.
Because she was eating meat and drinking milk, her lips were greasy and milky, unbelievably moist.
His eyes gradually darkened.
Would they taste more of milk, or more of meat?
Or perhaps there was another flavor?
Just then, the girl licked her lips with her tongue, then hooked the tip of her tongue to lick the corner of her lips.
Shen Mo’s breath hitched, and he hurriedly looked up at the sky.
“…” The sky was indeed very blue.
…
Fang Shaojun tidied her long hair, wrapped herself up tightly, and aimlessly wandered around the villa grounds, feeling a bit panicked from hunger, suddenly hallucinating.
Could she actually smell barbecue?
The rich scent of meat mingled with the aroma of cumin.
It was definitely the smell of skewers!
Was she so hungry that she was hallucinating?
This illusion felt too real.
Walking through the snow to the back of the villa, the aroma grew stronger.
She even began to hear the sounds of swallowing and the clinking of skewers hitting the ground.
Startled, she turned her head, and then she saw two young people nestled in a sheltered spot sneaking a snack.
Instinctively, she took a step back, letting the wooden wall hide her figure.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to look again.
Delicious food, a handsome boy, a beautiful view.
And there was Hua Jie.
Fang Shaojun’s eyes narrowed slightly, and her lips pressed into a straight line.
After standing quietly for a few minutes, she turned and retraced her steps, not looking in the direction of those two again.
At the front of the villa, she ran into Qian Chong.
The boy was wrapped in a down jacket and wearing a Ushanka hat, walking in her direction.
Fang Shaojun paused hesitantly for a few seconds, then turned back and called out:
“Qian Chong.”
She seldom initiated conversation with him.
Qian Chong turned his head, eyebrows raised, a puzzled look on his face.
“Shen Mo is over there.” After saying this, Fang Shaojun turned and walked away.
What she didn’t say out loud was ‘don’t go over there if you don’t want to be scolded’, but Qian Chong paused for only a moment before he grasped her implied meaning.
He stood still, watching Fang Shaojun return to the courtyard, then after a moment, he quietly followed the direction from which Fang Shaojun had come.
He walked very softly, making no sound at all.
At the corner, he stopped and listened for a while, hearing faint, gentle conversations.
The other voice seemed to be Hua Jie.
Peeking around the corner, he was instantly shocked, his mouth gaping open, saliva almost dripping out.
That’s too much!
It’s one thing to sneak some food, but to eat this well?
Too tempting, he almost audibly swallowed his saliva but managed to hold it back.
Frowning, he stood there for a while, then left reluctantly.
Shen Mo… not only did he enjoy Hua Jie’s little stories, but he also hogged the barbecue!
Absolutely outrageous, ssshh—
….
At lunch, Shen Jiaru noticed that Hua Jie ate very little.
He was worried, wondering if his own pressure had affected her. Was she feeling anxious, and therefore unable to eat?
Shen Jiaru, who typically didn’t get too close to people, for the first time, served food to someone else.
He placed a piece of beef, a rib, and a chicken leg into Hua Jie’s bowl, “Eat more meat, you’re still growing. Don’t feel too pressured about painting and studying.”
“…” Shen Mo frowned. He also ate very little; why didn’t his dad serve him food?
“…” Fang Shaojun.
“…” Qian Chong.
Was Hua Jie feeling pressured by her studies and painting? Or was she simply not hungry?
“…Thank you, teacher,” Hua Jie said with a forced smile.
She really couldn’t eat any more…
…
After lunch, Shen Jiaru suggested the children each go back to their rooms for a nap, planning to continue sketching in the afternoon.
Everyone was about to take a stroll to digest their food before heading upstairs, but then they saw Teacher Shen calling Hua Jie aside to the sunroom next to the hall.
“What’s going on?” Qian Chong turned to ask Fang Shaojun.
“It’s none of your business,” Fang Shaojun snapped back habitually, though she too was curiously staring straight at the teacher and student in the sunroom.
Shen Mo sunk into a couch by the window, having just grabbed his laptop to play a video game, but upon hearing Fang Shaojun and Qian Chong, he couldn’t help but look up towards the sunroom.
Lu Yunfei had already started to head upstairs to his room. Halfway up, he looked back at the few people staring at the sunroom, and his curiosity piqued as well.
“Mr. Zhao, is there something wrong with the painting Hua Jie did this morning?” Qian Chong turned to ask Zhao Xiaolei, who was also sitting on the couch.
“…” Zhao Xiaolei glanced back at the sunroom where the girl sat opposite Shen Jiaru and answered, “There’s nothing wrong with the painting; the problem is probably with her future life plans.”
“Life plans?” Qian Chong was puzzled.
Already making plans for her entire life in high school?
And why had the teacher only asked Hua Jie about her life plans and not him?
“Lu Yunfei, has the teacher ever asked you about your life plans?” Qian Chong turned to ask.
Lu Yunfei shook his head.
Qian Chong then looked towards Fang Shaojun, who frowned, lowered her eyes to avoid his gaze, and turned to walk up the stairs to her room on the second floor.
It seemed that the teacher had not asked her either.
Then… why Hua Jie?
Why only Hua Jie?
…
Sunlight streamed into the sunroom, passing through the glass of the tea cup, casting a caramel-colored tea shadow on the wooden table.
A few tea leaves floated on the surface, landing within the shadow, like little birds floating in the air.
Hua Jie’s fingers nervously twisted together, her gaze shifting between the tea shadow and Teacher Shen, feeling both anxious and frightened.
She had sensed all morning that the teacher seemed hesitant when facing her and her paintings.
But she couldn’t figure out why.
She hadn’t noticed any problems with her paintings, nor could she guess the teacher’s thoughts.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” Shen Jiaru said.
“Teacher, is there a major problem with my painting?” Hua Jie’s throat was dry from nervousness.
Shen Jiaru shook his head, “It’s not that there’s a problem with your painting.”
Hua Jie widened her eyes, staring intently at Shen Jiaru without blinking.
The middle-aged man sighed, quickly reviewing the speech he had rehearsed many times in his mind before gently beginning:
“Your foundation is very solid, and you’ve also learned watercolor techniques well.”
“Basically, whenever I point out an issue, you don’t make the same mistake again. You’re a very ambitious and proud student, and I’m very satisfied.”
Hua Jie grew even more nervous, feeling like the teacher had some major revelation waiting for her.
Could it be that he feels he has taught her all he can and is about to kick her out of his tutelage?
Isn’t that something only done when a disciple commits a serious offense?
She… she had always been well-behaved.
“The techniques in painting can be simplified into several categories.”
“Over the past month, with your repeated practice and familiarity, coupled with the foundation you’ve laid with gouache and other mediums, you’re already capable of painting portraits and landscapes.”
“Even if the difficulty increases later on, it will just be about enhancing the proficiency of what you know and improving the mobilization and application of various skills.”
“The methods of painting various objects can also be found in the various still lifes you’ve painted in the past.
“I believe the knowledge and techniques you’ve accumulated in your mind are quite sufficient.
“Continuing to practice in the future, I can provide guidance whenever you need, but I believe your current skills already surpass those of most art school graduates.”
“…Teacher.” She pursed her lips, unconsciously swallowing.
Teacher Shen is truly responsible, he knows her well, almost as if he knows the truth of her having been reborn with decades of painting experience.
Something inside her was touched suddenly, and her eyes inexplicably welled up with tears.
Keeping a secret forever, never being able to share it with anyone, even if it’s a happy secret, can still feel lonely.
She never thought someone would come so close to this secret in such a manner.
Her low call was filled with complex emotions.
Besides herself, no one knew what she felt and thought, not even Shen Jiaru, who was so close to the truth of her life.
“…Hmm.” Artists are always sensitive, and Shen Jiaru, watching the girl’s expressions, felt as if he had read something in them.
Perhaps it was the bitterness of years of struggle, or perhaps the complexity of emotions from having such an earnest conversation with a teacher like him.
He did not probe into her emotions but simply nodded at her, as both encouragement and response.
Hua Jie looked into her teacher’s eyes, her lips curling into a soft, somewhat pitiful smile, yet also filled with a mix of determination and defiance.
Shen Jiaru paused, reflecting on his words, wondering how they seemed to have nearly brought the young girl to tears.
“You are painting very well now, and you are in a phase of improvement.”
“As you transition from beginning to learn watercolors to repeatedly refining your skills, you will get better and better, and more skilled at it.”
“The techniques and knowledge you’ve accumulated from painting with gouache, oil, and other mediums have not yet been fully integrated into your newly learned watercolor skills.”
“In the next six months to a year, you will continue to integrate all the knowledge you’ve accumulated into watercolors. The process of integration and understanding will bring significant progress, and you might feel like you are growing every day, with each new painting being better than the last.”
“Your hand will become steadier, and your painting will become more free-flowing.”
“This will be an unforgettable happy period in your painting life.”
“Almost all painters go through a pleasant phase of significant growth, which they can recall with a sense of accomplishment throughout their lives, much like how every general remembers their victorious battles.”
Shen Jiaru personally poured her a cup of tea.
Hua Jie held it with both hands, listening intently to his words, already faintly anticipating what the teacher was about to say next.
She pursed her lips, her expression growing more serious, waiting for the teacher’s ‘but’.
In the hall, Qian Chong didn’t go back to sleep.
He sat on the sofa, sketching everything within his sight while occasionally glancing at Shen Jiaru and Hua Jie.
His pen moved quickly over the paper; his lines were always bold and forceful, even the curves he drew had a sense of strength and were not delicate. Though they were just pen strokes, they resembled cuts made by a chisel and axe.
At this moment, he drew with even more force, his strokes quicker and sharper.
Why had Teacher Shen specifically pulled Hua Jie aside for such a long talk?
Their expressions were so serious; what exactly were they discussing?
Why had he never talked to him about future plans? Was his painting not as good as Hua Jie’s? Was it much worse?
She had only been here a few months, why was she treated so differently…
Qian Chong’s cheeks puffed slightly, his irritation growing as if he was about to spring from his chair.
Yet, he forcibly restrained himself, sitting steadily, continuing to draw with clenched teeth.
Shen Mo sunk into the sofa, playing as the ‘United States’ with paratroopers in the game Red Alert, having just demolished an opponent’s base.
Exiting the game, he glanced over at the sunroom.
The old and the young were still talking.
Discussing something he didn’t know, so focused, and even causing Hua Jie’s eyes to occasionally moisten.
He pursed his lips, his restlessness not much better than Qian Chong’s.
Taking a deep breath, he turned to look out the window.
In the future, would Hua Jie, following this path of painting, be like his dad?
Immersed in it, oblivious to day and night, regardless of the cold or heat…