Wrapped in green military coats and wearing Lei Feng hats that covered almost their entire heads and faces, Qiao Baiwan and Fang Tonglin carried two bottles of Moutai, which had recently become popular, and hurried across the newly swept stone path, braving the wind to reach Shen Jiaru’s solitary estate.
As the door swung open, Qiao Baiwan immediately spotted Shen Jiaru.
He yanked his hat off with his left hand and tossed it onto a table to his left, carrying the Moutai as he approached.
“Master Shen, I’ve long admired your great reputation!” Qiao Baiwan enthusiastically clasped Shen Jiaru’s hand, ignoring the other’s embarrassment and indifference, his face creased with a beaming smile.
The mask of simple-minded cheerfulness shattered into pieces, his zeal seeming almost like a transformation.
Fang Tonglin was utterly astonished by the scene.
This was a revelation for Hua Jie and the other students; they finally saw how popular their teacher really was.
Once seated at Fang Tonglin’s invitation, Qiao Baiwan could hardly contain his overflowing admiration for Shen Jiaru.
He knew all of Shen Jiaru’s famous paintings by heart, having once been unable to afford them and now, when he could, finding that Shen no longer sold them—a truly frustrating fan journey.
Shen Jiaru gradually settled down, responding to Qiao Baiwan with smiles and brief sentences.
Meanwhile, Fang Tonglin busied himself preparing famous teas, inwardly cursing Qiao Baiwan’s pretense; so restrained before arriving, only to reveal it was all an act.
Shen Jiaru didn’t ask the students to join them, his natural disposition being fiercely independent and little concerned with formalities, seeing no need for his students to greet these wealthy elders.
Instead, he casually pointed out several children busy around the hall, introducing them to Fang and Qiao by name, with an air of nonchalance.
Qiao Baiwan, already a loyal fan, admired Shen Jiaru’s demeanor even more upon seeing this.
Reflecting on the strict etiquettes his own family’s younger generations adhered to during festive greetings and visitor receptions, he felt utterly vulgar compared to Shen Jiaru, like chalk and cheese.
He sipped his tea noisily, his admiration for Shen Jiaru filtered through a lens thick as a brick.
After the initial pleasantries, they moved on to discussing purchasing paintings. Shen Jiaru then stood up, leading them out of the sunroom to a corner of the hall where several paintings were already displayed.
These paintings, temporarily edged with pure white tape, looked nearly as impressive as if they had been framed, each standing there encompassing the various beautiful scenes from around the estate in recent days.
Among them were a few portraits by Lu Yunfei and Qian Chong of Shen Mo; Fang Shaojun and Hua Jie had decided not to sell the portraits of Shen Mo.
Qian Chong wandered over to the paintings, standing beside Shen Jiaru and surveying the works of himself and his classmates, his gaze eventually settling on Hua Jie’s paintings—
“Monochrome Tundra”, “The Manor under Night Skies”, “Ice Lake”, “Rime Forest”, and “Sunset Over Snowy Mountains”.
Qian Chong felt that the best paintings Hua Jie had done recently were “Youth in the Snow,” “Sunrise,” and “Countless Selves in the Ice Crystals.” Unfortunately, the first two paintings, featuring Shen Mo, were withheld by Shen Mo himself, neither for sale nor for exhibition. The last one, a close-up of rime, titled “Countless Selves in the Ice Crystals,” was specifically chosen by Teacher Shen to be entered into a competition.
Thus, the paintings currently on display represent the changes in Hua Jie before and after her conversation with Teacher Shen.
Qian Chong carefully examined these paintings, following Hua Jie’s sequence of creation. The more he scrutinized, the more he noticed something special.
He turned to look at Fang Shaojun, who was also viewing Hua Jie’s paintings. Their eyes met briefly, and he could discern a mutual realization in their gaze.
Hua Jie seemed to be transforming, tearing herself apart and starting anew.
“Wow, truly, a master leads to the emergence of great disciples. Teacher Shen’s students, still in their teens, create paintings that rival many well-known old masters in the art circle,” Fang Tonglin praised, his eyes darting between the paintings, comparing them.
If he could only buy one, he would definitely bet on the one with the most potential!
Qiao Baiwan, who had been consistently flattering Shen Jiaru, suddenly fell silent.
His eyes slowly moved from the painting on the far left, gradually immersing himself in them, earnestly experiencing each one.
Seeing Qiao Baiwan’s demeanor, Shen Jiaru smiled, realizing that this man truly loved the paintings and wasn’t just pretending.
Lu Yunfei’s paintings were delicate; although they were watercolor, they often conveyed the texture of oil paintings, with a nuanced expressiveness that greatly emphasized visual beauty. Each detailed viewing seemed to reveal new intricacies and delights.
Fang Shaojun’s paintings, with their contrasting warm and cool tones, were full of artistic flair. The contradictory techniques resembled youth, allowing one to taste a unique charm and interest.
Qian Chong’s paintings, with their cool tones, were impactful and cool, providing a satisfying release of negative emotions after a while, with an intensely stimulating style that stood out.
And Hua Jie’s paintings…
Qiao Baiwan’s gaze settled on “Monochrome Tundra” and lingered there for a long time.
Among all the paintings, it appeared so subdued, at first glance like a draft yet to be colored.
But…
It possessed a special power.
Tranquil, serene, as if conveying confusion yet also articulating a return to simplicity, as if washing away all adornment to return to a blank slate.
Qiao Baiwan’s life had been full of hardships, only finding resurgence in middle age and rising to become a boss.
Even in this process, things were not going smoothly for him.
Due to limited mining technology and complex mine environments, he carried a new, expensive smartphone every day, yet he dreaded it ringing—
Afraid of an accident in the mine, afraid of workers encountering danger.
Qiao Baiwan was one of the more conscientious bosses; he provided his workers with high subsidies and wages, but still often felt uneasy, frequently overwhelmed with distress.
The older generation of magnates, while having an extreme desire for money, also harbored deep sympathy for the laboring masses due to their own past hardships.
As a result, he suffered from poor sleep and was in a state of constant tension, always seeking anything that could soothe his mind. Buying paintings, studying various art pieces, and reading were all outlets for emotional release.
When he saw the painting “Monochrome Tundra,” his emotions suddenly resonated with the unknown strokes of bewilderment and cautious brushwork in the painting, creating a marvelous harmony.
The more carefully he looked at the painting, the more he felt a sense of purity.
His restless emotions were smoothed over, like water rippling over an ice field, flowing through his heart, like a fog erasing all the fearful images in his mind, feeling as if he was new to the world…
Fang Tonglin looked back and forth, not knowing how many times, and finally his gaze settled on Fang Shaojun’s “Campfire by the Snow Mountain” and Lu Yunfei’s “Snowfield Manor.”
As a tourism businessman, he wanted to buy a painting to hang in his own manor, naturally choosing one that depicted the beauty of his manor and the surrounding scenery.
While Qian Chong’s paintings were good, they were somewhat unsuitable for a vacation environment.
As for Hua Jie’s watercolors, once the strong and stimulating mixed styles were toned down, someone with a clear display purpose like Fang Tonglin could hardly understand them.
After much hesitation, he turned to Shen Jiaru and asked if he could buy two paintings.
Shen Jiaru was reluctant to let his students sell paintings too early in their unripe artistic phase.
Renowned painters are conscious of controlling the quantity of their works on the market, paying attention to reputation, ensuring that only their best works are sold.
The children might not understand this, perhaps focusing more on immediate gains, but he was thinking more long-term, worried about devaluing their future potential.
Therefore, he specifically emphasized that only one painting should be sold.
But…
Turning to look at his own students, since Fang Tonglin was so sincerely requesting to buy and it was one painting each from Fang Shaojun and Lu Yunfei without over-selling…
Under the eager gaze of the two students, he finally broke the rule with a smile.
Fang Shaojun let out a long sigh of relief, heart pounding as he awaited the result, finally able to relax.
Money was inconsequential to her; she lived for these moments, and fortunately, her spirit wasn’t broken.
Shen Jiaru patted Qian Chong on the head, intending to also comfort Hua Jie, but found the young girl sitting in the sunroom, fervently writing in front of a row of snow-covered viewing pavilions outside.
“…,” Lips pursed, Shen Jiaru was somewhat amused and bewildered. Was the child simply carefree? Or did she regard money and fame as worthless as dirt?
He was about to let her continue immersing in her own world when Qiao Baiwan suddenly turned and called out:
“Teacher Shen.”
“Eh?” Shen Jiaru raised his eyebrows, turning to look at Qiao Baiwan, and was momentarily taken aback as their eyes met.
The simple-minded smile that had been on Qiao Baiwan’s face had vanished, the deep wrinkles on his face smoothed out when not marked by any expression, only his somewhat cloudy eyes now sharply revealing determination, as if he had made up his mind.
“Teacher Shen, please allow me to buy this painting for 100,000 yuan,” Qiao Baiwan earnestly requested, his gaze firmly on Shen Jiaru.
His determined expression seemed to say: If you refuse to sell, I might just have to take it.
Shen Jiaru followed Qiao Baiwan’s pointing finger, his gaze landing on Hua Jie’s “Monochrome Tundra,” and he was momentarily lost in thought.
This painting was created by Hua Jie right after their conversation, when she was confused and uncertain.
He still remembered her appearance while painting—pale, fragile, cautious, and even a bit pitiable.
This painting could be said to be one of her most immature works.
Yet it was chosen by Qiao Baiwan, who truly loved art.
Shen Jiaru saw the resonance and the heartfelt appreciation in Qiao Baiwan’s eyes, his affection for the painting undeniable.
He pursed his lips and called out, “Hua Jie, come here.”
The girl looked up like a prairie dog from her easel, took a moment to focus, and after a brief eye contact with her teacher, she put down her brush and easel, rose gracefully, and walked over with a smile.
Qiao Baiwan examined Hua Jie up and down, noting her simple, shoulder-length hair, her lively and cute big eyes, and her serene smile.
The girl indeed had the temperament of someone who could paint such a piece.
He was just a bit surprised; he saw so much emotion in the painting, it was hard to believe it came from such a delicate young girl.
“Hello, Hua Jie,” Qiao Baiwan initiated with a nod and extended his right hand.
In this era, there wasn’t yet the etiquette of women needing to extend their hand first in a handshake, and for Qiao Baiwan, a newly wealthy individual, extending his hand was the best way to express respect and acknowledgment.
Hua Jie was a bit reserved, facing the somewhat serious sincerity of Mr. Qiao, she smiled shyly and extended her fingers for a brief handshake.
“Hello, Uncle Qiao.”
She didn’t call him ‘boss’ as it felt too formal, and ‘sir’ seemed overly formal in the cultural context of the north, appearing somewhat pretentious, so she simply positioned herself as the younger generation and called him ‘uncle.’
Qiao Baiwan’s face lit up with joy; having greatly appreciated Hua Jie’s painting, he felt somewhat unworthy, worried that the spirited young genius might find him too crude.
Qian Chong, Lu Yunfei, and others stood by, watching little Hua Jie being so valued by Qiao Baiwan, all feeling somewhat uneasy.