The dim light of early morning slowly penetrated the darkness, like someone had splashed a pale, milky color from the horizon at the edge of the snowy plains.
This milky white continuously flowed upwards, blending, permeating, until it spread across the entire sky, gradually diluting the dusk and flowing into the fully opened canvas of the day.
Outside the window, a row of pavilions designated for scenic viewing was covered in snow, devoid of any footprints. The world, blanketed in a soft layer of clean snow, became even more peaceful and serene.
Hua Jie squinted her eyes, feeling the beauty of the scene.
Her hand quickly moved the pen, racing against time to capture the enchanting appearance of the sunrise over the snowy plains.
Suddenly, a series of chirping noises broke the silence. A group of round, plump little creatures flapped their wings from the distant woods, landing on the pine tree outside the window. They jumped and chirped joyously, pecking and washing their wings, twisting on the branches as they lined up side by side…
It was a large flock of sparrows.
They caused the loosely layered snow on the treetops to flutter down as they trampled, making the branches bounce. The little birds leaped about, their fine chirping harmonizing into a melody praising the morning.
A smile unconsciously appeared on Hua Jie’s lips. She turned her head to look at Shen Mo. The young man was also raising his head, watching the group of sparrows outside the window. Seeing her looking over, his eyes shifted slightly, meeting hers.
The two exchanged a smile—one bright and sunny, the other gentle and steady.
Only during the brief moment she turned to seek the young man’s gaze, the light on her face shifted from a pale mist-like white to gold, then slowly to light orange, and finally to red, coloring her cheeks as if reflecting peach blossoms.
As if draped in red gauze.
Then, the red turned into a light purple.
“Look,” he said, pointing outside the window.
The sun had completely broken free from the horizon, seemingly leaping in an instant to the distant mountains.
It rolled, changing its attire, shedding the white gauze, layering color after color, finally becoming a dazzling disk wrapped in orange, red, and purple layers.
The entire snowy plain was suddenly colored, the previous purity swept away, replaced by a brilliance that was astonishing.
The top layer of the snow was a light purple gauze, covering the light orange and red beneath, carrying a hint of coldness, yet also exuding romance.
Hua Jie felt somewhat dizzy.
Intoxicated.
She excitedly grabbed Shen Mo’s hand, exclaiming, “It’s so beautiful! Did you see? It’s so beautiful~~”
Her voice seemed like a sigh, stretching out into a breathy sound.
“…Hmm,” Shen Mo murmured softly, lowering his head to look at her hand.
Her small hand was tightly clutching his, gripping his middle and ring fingers forcefully, and occasionally tugging at them in her excitement.
It was as if they were not fingers but ropes or sticks.
He pursed his lips but did not pull his fingers away.
Let her pinch; he pretended it didn’t hurt.
Ruthlessly.
…
Hua Jie’s hand held a brush, dipped in paint and water, flowing across the entire sheet of paper.
The once gentle sunrise transformed into a resplendent one.
The quietness of the fields was broken by the lively presence of the sparrows, adding many vibrant little figures to the canvas.
At the edge of the paper, there were unusual blocks of color.
As these blocks were detailed, one could see they represented the silhouette of the young man leaning against the window, quietly reading a book, reflected on the window glass.
The morning scenery, the early birds, and the quiet young man accompanying her through the night.
The once aloof and indifferent school celebrity, academic achiever, and bully had become a brotherly, mature figure.
How insightful she must have been to have a crush on him in her past life and to idolize him in this life, dedicating her fan’s love to him?
As the painting “Sunrise” neared completion, Hua Jie’s sense of reason also began to rise. She felt embarrassed about her previous behavior of clinging to Shen Mo for comfort, repeatedly asking, “Really? Really? Really?”
“Was I embarrassing yesterday? Do you dislike me?” she asked.
The young man slowly raised his head, stretched his body a bit in the sofa, and then quickly slumped back lazily.
“Relationships between people are not that fragile.”
“True intimacy in friendship must allow room for sincerity, even if I think you’re talking nonsense or being foolish, I’d still find it endearing because of your sincerity.”
“Whether it’s conflict or understanding, expressing your true self is the foundation of a close relationship.”
He suddenly propped himself up, leaned forward, stretching his arm, and patted her head:
“You’re fine, and we’re fine.”
“Then, do you think I’m talking nonsense? Am I foolish?” she caught the implication in his words.
“You really know what to focus on,” the young man remarked with a glance at her, then turned back to his new book, “The Complete Works of Lu Xun.”
Hua Jie curled her lips into a smile, continuing the finishing touches on her painting, adding details.
After a while, the young man suddenly exclaimed:
“No nonsense, there’s thought, emotion… a soul. Not foolish, smart!”
He didn’t look up, his eyes still fixed on the book, even turning a page as he spoke.
The girl’s eyes curved brightly, a halo of light casting over Shen Mo’s face, reflected on the window glass.
She stared at the not-so-clear shadow on the glass, seeing the white, round lines of mist and the multicolored halo.
Her hand returned to the canvas, adding many colors over the already finished painting.
The fine tip of her brush, rarely using white in watercolor, traced circles of white mist on the leftmost reflection of the person in the glass.
After cleaning her brush, she drew out rainbow-colored halos in several spots to emphasize the glass texture.
A clean watercolor painting now carried a dreamy atmosphere.
Through the window, the romantic morning glow over the snowy plains and the beautiful young man enshrouded in white mist and rainbow light on the left side of the glass were visible.
The young man’s features were not clear, the glassy reflection even lacked distinct outlines.
What the artist saw was a blurred figure, which also appeared as such on paper.
Yet, the artist also saw the coldest yet gentlest soul, with a lazy posture but pure and sincere.
A profound warmth and an everlasting beauty emanated from the painting, capturing the heart and softening it.
This was an emotional painting, indescribable in words, yet unforgettable at a glance.
The morning sun, sweet and warm, shone on the faces of the two youths.
Imprinting a simple and beautiful snapshot of youth.
…
…
When Zhao Xiaolei first got up early in the morning, his hair sticking up as he wandered down to drink some water, he met the girl’s gaze.
Eyes wide met eyes small, then feeling inwardly awkward but outwardly calm, he pressed down his sticking-up hair, wiped his unwashed face, nodded composedly, then cleverly turned and headed into the kitchen. After gulping down some water, he headed upstairs without looking back.
Why would anyone get up so early?
Hua Jie placed her now-finished painting aside and looked up to find the young man already asleep, book in hand.
She stood up and approached him, poking his cheek, “Go upstairs to sleep?”
“…Hmm.” He caught her fingers, pulling them down onto the sofa, gripping them tightly for a while before letting go.
It wasn’t until the girl straightened up and shuffled in her slippers to pour him some hot milk that he opened his eyes, looked down at his hand, and sniffed it quietly before rubbing his eyes with it.
Shen Mo and Hua Jie faced each other as they drank the hot milk and ate a piece of bread, their eyes growing heavier with each bite.
After swallowing the last bite of bread, he staggered upstairs with half-closed eyes, his tall frame and long legs looking like he might fall over at any moment.
Hua Jie followed him to his bedroom door to make sure he didn’t suddenly collapse and fall asleep right there.
After the young man closed the door, she softly said “Thank you,” then turned and returned to her own room.
Having stayed up most of the night and finished a painting, she was also very tired.
But at the same time, she was exhilarated, as if her feet were stepping on cotton, and emotionally, she felt like dancing and singing.
After taking a shower, she dressed and went downstairs after finishing her morning routine.
She greeted everyone, had breakfast, and just as the morning classes were about to start, she finally felt sleepy. After excusing herself to the teacher, she went upstairs in a daze and fell into bed, quickly falling into a deep sleep.
Fang Shaojun had noticed during breakfast that Shen Mo hadn’t appeared, and Hua Jie had dark circles under her eyes as if she hadn’t slept all night.
Watching Hua Jie disappear at the second-floor stairwell, she bit her lip and moved toward the window with her sketchpad, looking for a new spot different from yesterday to continue drawing the snowy plains.
But she immediately noticed the watercolor painting resting upright on the sofa.
She stared at the painting, her heart gradually softening, turning into romantic, colorful pool water swirling in her chest.
Then it all turned sour, flooding her whole body.
She focused on the shadow of the young man on the left side of the painting, biting her lower lip, her breathing stilled, feeling a slight pain in her heart.
A girl’s first open-hearted affection is always suppressed yet intense. If it cannot be released into a bursting flame, it becomes a furnace burning the viscera, blazing until it forges steel and gold, building a wall before it rests.
Fang Shaojun quietly turned around, found a spot, and quietly started to paint.
Throughout the day, her painting lingered in the shadows—dark, obscure, gloomy.
…
Qian Chong and Lu Yunfei passed by, pausing for quite some time.
The restless youth was the first to leave; he gazed at the snowy plains, unable to see the purple dawn or much warmth.
Instead, it was the colors in the shadows that were colorful and interesting. He turned to look at Hua Jie’s painting, smiled softly, and toned down the warm colors on the paper but finely outlined all the shadows in this world.
Those shadow-covered places seemed to harbor a second world, a place of happiness belonging to Qian Chong.
Lu Yunfei ended up sitting beside Hua Jie’s painting, intermittently drawing himself but frequently glancing at her work.
He wasn’t sure what he was looking for in Hua Jie’s painting, perhaps wanting to appreciate her color choices once more, to understand the changes in her approach.
Shen Jiaru also noticed the painting. He simply smiled lightly, faintly grasping the late-night thoughts of the young girl, and picturing her determined effort to capture the sunrise in the early morning.
The solitude of the deep, quiet night, and the stubbornness of gritting her teeth to push through.
Talented people must endure a great deal of loneliness.