Deep inside, he was very eager to meet Shen Jiaru, yet he didn’t want to reveal this desire in front of Fang Tonglin.
Finally, his patience paid off, and it was Fang Tonglin who couldn’t hold back any longer, initiating the conversation:
“Boss Qiao, about the proposal I mentioned before about starting a mine together, do you have any further thoughts?”
Since Fang Tonglin spoke first, Qiao Baiwan crossed his legs and continued with his naive smile, maintaining his composure while tactfully circling around the topic, causing Fang Tonglin’s frustration to rise but leaving him helpless. Eventually, Qiao Baiwan leisurely said:
“I’ve actually been eyeing a few more mine spots, planning to start mining. If you’re really interested, why don’t you come with me to Shanxi? I can let you choose one to invest in. Whether it produces ore or not, and how much, will depend on our luck.”
“Great! No problem, I’ll accompany you this time when you go back,” Fang Tonglin’s eyes lit up instantly.
Qiao Baiwan slightly curled his lips, still wearing his naive smile as he watched him.
“Ah, about Teacher Shen, don’t worry, I’ll go and discuss with him right now. I’ll make sure you two get to sit down together for a tea no matter what,” Fang Tonglin patted his chest in assurance.
“Ah, is Teacher Shen’s student here for sketching and painting?” Qiao Baiwan asked in return.
“Yes, exactly. He needed a warm place to paint the winter scenery, so he thought of my place,” Fang Tonglin responded with a smile.
“Teacher Shen isn’t painting this time?”
“No, he isn’t, but his four students have done quite a lot of painting.”
“Teacher Shen agreed to let you buy a painting from one of his students?” Qiao Baiwan sipped the salty prairie milk tea and raised an eyebrow, “How much for one?”
Fang Tonglin, sensing that the other party might be interested in buying a painting from Teacher Shen’s student, became instantly vigilant, worried that Qiao was eyeing the spot he had secured.
Qiao Baiwan quickly picked up on Fang Tonglin’s concern and laughed, “Just mention to Teacher Shen to let me buy one as well. I’ve never had the chance to buy his paintings, but I imagine the paintings from his students won’t be bad either.”
“Yes, I thought the same. These kids might well become the next or third Shen Jiaru. It’s better to invest early, haha,” Fang Tonglin laughed heartily:
“Teacher Shen quoted 50,000. It’s the first time his student, who has been taught for about a year, is selling a painting, so it’s not a low price. I thought I’d just take a gamble on it.”
“Alright, tell Teacher Shen that I am willing to pay 100,000 for one too, my intentions are sincere, please ask him to consider it,” Qiao Baiwan offered without hesitation, despite not having seen the student’s work, unaware of the students’ ages or their actual skill levels, he put forth a high bid.
Fang Tonglin did not immediately grasp Qiao Baiwan’s admiration for Shen Jiaru, but he did recognize the other’s wealth, feeling a wave of envy.
After breakfast, Fang Tonglin hurried to the villa where Shen Jiaru was staying, going around in circles to apply, and used every trick in the book to help Qiao Baiwan, acting like a matchmaker.
Initially, Shen Jiaru was somewhat resistant, but after glancing at his students in the hall arranging their art materials and displaying their paintings one by one, he hesitated for a moment before agreeing.
If this wealthy businessman truly appreciates a student’s painting and becomes a steady patron for the student’s future growth, it could be a good source of ongoing positive feedback.
When Shen Jiaru was just starting out, he had such supporters who admired his paintings, buying them with large sums of money, and gradually elevating his work to heights he himself had never expected, which was a crucial factor in his success.
When Fang Tonglin went back to greet Qiao Baiwan and arrange the upcoming meeting, Shen Jiaru stood in the hall, placing each student’s painting in the sunlight, framing them with white paper tape on the easel, making them look as if they were already mounted.
Lu Yunfei stood by his side, his fists clenched nervously, feeling that being selected in such a setting might not truly represent the quality of his paintings but merely reflect the buyer’s preferences.
Yet, he was still nervously sweating.
Fang Shaojun’s family was wealthy, and the sums of 50,000 or 100,000 were not significant for her, but having her painting displayed alongside those of her peers for selection was a new experience.
Her competitive spirit made her grit her teeth, determined to win this first challenge.
Shen Jiaru noticed the serious expressions of the two students on either side, pursed his lips slightly—having a competitive spirit was good for young people.
Peering around, he didn’t see Qian Chong and Hua Jie; turning to look, he realized those two were not even present.
What’s the matter? Were they so unconcerned about gain or loss? So indifferent and carefree?
…..
Hua Jie did not lack concern about whether her painting would be selected.
She was more eager than anyone for her work to sell because she was the one among them who needed the money the most.
For her, 50,000 yuan was equivalent to two or three years of income for her family.
If she could bring that money home, her parents would be so happy, they’d likely start dancing the tango around her.
But time was pressing; they were set to leave the snowfields that afternoon, yet there were still several good landscapes she hadn’t painted, several interesting compositions she hadn’t tried. She was anxious.
So, while Fang Tonglin had not yet come to buy the paintings, she seized the moment to borrow Lu Yunfei’s gouache supplies and watercolor paper, hastily sketching out a draft on a size 8 paper.
Using gouache for such sketches was faster and easier due to its opaque quality. After all, if she made a mistake, she didn’t need to start over; she could simply cover it with another color.
In the center of the gouache paper, she used a pencil to draw a 16*16 cm square grid, then quickly sketched and filled in colors in the central grid, planning to expand these into watercolors when she got back.
It was like taking a photograph and finishing the painting later.
For the sake of speed, she skipped the transitional colors and chose a few primary colors instead.
For instance, painting snow would normally involve using shades like blue, pale gold for the sunlight, and white, but Hua Jie didn’t have time to layer so many colors. She simply painted all the snow light blue;
All the wood was done in dark brown, ignoring light brown, red-brown, grey-brown—all just dark brown… and so forth, painting in a style similar to those decorative oil paintings bought in later generations, flatly painted with three or four colors.
Simple, striking, with its own unique impact.
Hua Jie painted several pieces in a row, not waiting for them to dry before starting on the next, resulting in tables, chairs, and sofas scattered with still-damp gouache speed paintings.
While painting the koi fish under the ice layer, she ran out of the brown that Lu Yunfei had provided, and in a frantic rush, she turned to ask:
“Lu Yunfei, did you bring the tube of brown paint? Squeeze some more out, it’s all gone.”
“It’s upstairs…” Lu Yunfei, who was naturally slow-moving, paused upon hearing Hua Jie’s request, then leisurely pointed upstairs.
Hua Jie didn’t ask him to hurry up and help her fetch the paint; instead, he just stood there naively, watching the scene as if he were clueless, looking at her.
The girl stood up, rotated her wrists, and was about to ask Lu Yunfei for help.
Suddenly, a hand reached out, holding a tube of brown gouache.
It was a stranger’s hand, the nails weren’t cut very neatly, but they were clean, with traces of paint on the joints—a painter’s hand.
Hua Jie looked up, startled, at Qian Chong.
Did the sun rise from the west today?
Why would this guy kindly lend her paint?
Was there poison in this paint? The kind that kills upon contact with blood!
These days, Hua Jie had been painting as if her life depended on it, seizing every lucid moment to paint.
Every time he saw her, he no longer thought of her as the annoying person competing with him, always trying to outdo him.
Instead, he remembered that early morning when he went downstairs for water and heard her pained, fearful sobs.
All out for painting, giving her all, utterly exhausted.
Just like him, dedicated to the art career, prepared for a lifelong tough battle.
For some reason, he suddenly found her more agreeable.
She wasn’t so annoying anymore, and lending her the paint wasn’t a big deal.
Meeting her gaze, Qian Chong’s eyebrows shot up again, showing a hint of displeasure.
“Aren’t you in a hurry? Do you want it or not?”
Hua Jie, focusing on his dodging eyes, took the tube of paint, unscrewed the cap, and poured it into Lu Yunfei’s palette.
Qian Chong pulled his hand back into his pocket, turning to leave to hide his awkwardness.
Fang Shaojun looked back at him, her eyes filled with suspicion.
Qian Chong turned away, also avoiding Fang Shaojun’s gaze.
He walked back to his painting supplies and continued organizing, starting to regret his actions.
He shouldn’t have lent the paint to Hua Jie; it felt as if he was showing weakness.
It was just a spur-of-the-moment action when he handed over the tube of paint without much thought.
But now, the more he thought about it, the more awkward and uneasy he felt, sensing that something wasn’t quite right.
After so long in conflict, with neither ever having a good word to say to each other, how could he suddenly stop finding her annoying after hearing her cry? Even feeling an instinct to look out for her?
It was embarrassing.
Fang Shaojun was probably scoffing at him behind his back, and maybe Hua Jie was smug, feeling like she had completely crushed him under her foot, that she had won.
The more he thought about it, the more uncomfortable he felt.
Just then, he overheard Hua Jie whispering to Lu Yunfei:
“If I end up poisoned or something, no matter when it happens, even if it’s a long time from now, you have to come back and check this tube of paint. You know?”
“Hua Jie!” he shouted back angrily, turning around.
Hua Jie and Lu Yunfei both jumped, turning their heads to look at Qian Chong.
Before the irritable young man could come over to snatch the paint back and even scrape out what she had poured into the palette, Hua Jie, holding his tube of paint, smiled with curved eyes and slightly bared her teeth mischievously, saying cheerfully:
“Thanks, Qian Chong.”
It was the first time she called his name like that, light and quick, without anger or disdain, but with a hint of provocation and no malice.
Qian Chong’s anger slowly subsided, and he realized that he might… truly not dislike her anymore.
Eep 😳 I wasn’t able to update this for over a month… thank you for being so patient 💖 Dropped 15 new chapters for you today.