The sixth and seventh were gathering days. After finishing the hot pot at the copper furnace, the afternoon back at the hotel was free time.
As long as one didn’t get lost, they could go anywhere. Zhao Xiaolei suggested to just take a bath and wander around the hotel without running off.
Hua Jie obediently agreed, but after her bath, she tucked her money and phone into a pocket sewn inside her thermal underwear, slung on her small backpack, and set off.
She didn’t take the bus; instead, holding her sketchbook, she walked and drew maps along the way to ensure she could find her way back if she wandered too far.
With her drawing supplies on her back, Hua Jie started her adventure in the capital of the new millennium.
Whenever she saw ancient-style flying eaves and pavilions, special and interesting buildings, and small objects, she would stop and start drawing right there.
An old man walking his dog, a vendor selling capital-themed trinkets, a sudden appearance of palace walls, a Western café nestled among a row of Chinese shops, an old tricycle parked in a small alley, a pile of daily clutter at someone’s doorstep, a millennial fashionista brushing past, a barber shaving an old man through a residential window…
Step by step, Hua Jie captured glimpses of this era—those simple, happy, everyday scenes filled with life, which touched her profoundly.
Although the capital was warmer than Jinsong City, it was still bitterly cold in the late winter, her face flushed red from the wind. Fortunately, walking kept her warm, and her hands, though clumsy in thick gloves holding a pencil, were not cold.
All of it was fascinating. She could hardly believe she was roaming Beijing in the year 2000.
Wandering alone without a destination or direction was both romantic and joyful.
Whenever she passed a beautiful courtyard house, she would long to step inside, imagining if she owned such a place, how artistically and beautifully she would decorate it.
Planting flowers, arranging her favorite features, creating her preferred style.
In winter, sitting inside the house eating hot pot, watching the yard draped in a snowy veil; in summer, sitting under a large umbrella in the courtyard, painting while listening to and watching the rain.
How blissful it would be to have a cat, a dog, and a few birds.
Getting up early to eat the incredibly tasty traditional tofu pudding from the alley, accompanied by fried dough sticks, fried cakes, twisted doughnuts, large buns or other pastries, along with soy milk, cow milk, and various porridges…
After a full meal, strolling back to her courtyard to plant flowers, vegetables, raise some fish, tidy up, decorate, and read a book.
Then wandering aimlessly within the Imperial City, anywhere could become a spot for sketching.
Slowly documenting the growth and progress of this city, as well as every calm and happy day in her own life.
Jingshan, Tiananmen, the Forbidden City, the Summer Palace, the Great Wall… Living in the capital, she could draw all these cultural landmarks of China.
With her brushstrokes, she painted the beauty of China as she saw it.
It was the life she wholeheartedly longed for.
To live such a carefree life, she had to be exceptionally good at her art.
Teacher Shen had grown tired of the hustle and bustle of the big city and moved to the small city of Jinsong to enjoy the tranquility and solitude of escaping the world, simplifying life, seeking breakthroughs.
But Hua Jie was completely different; she was filled with curiosity and longing for the glamorous world. She wanted to step out, to see more of this bustling market, to enjoy the complexity of everything evolving day by day.
Ah, she felt so poor.
In the evening on her way back, her small backpack was filled with donkey rolls, pea cakes, and many other small items, gifts she had prepared for her family and friends.
Besides, she had many other gains—candied haws, donkey meat burgers, and a small bowl of stewed snacks she had already consumed.
As Qian Chong and others gathered in the lobby on empty stomachs, ready to follow the teacher to dinner, Hua Jie returned half-full, put her things back in her room, and even burped when she came back to the lobby.
…
Considering that the comeback competition system would definitely take everyone to eat Peking duck, on the evening of the 6th, Shen Jiaru led a group of kids past a Peking duck restaurant without entering, heading straight to a French restaurant he thought was very good.
Foie gras, roasted lamb chops, sashimi, truffle chocolates, seafood risotto, steak, and various exquisite delicious desserts…
Hua Jie, who had never tasted these in her two lifetimes, ate while feeling bittersweet, silently wishing to draw better and earn more money.
The glamorous world truly heightens one’s desires, good indulgences are extremely expensive.
She tried to eat more elegantly to avoid embarrassment, but the melting foie gras, fragrant grilled lamb chops, and the overwhelmingly delightful desserts were just too delicious.
“Teacher, you really know how to eat.” Hua Jie said, her face flushed as she ate, wishing she could have a glass of red wine.
Unfortunately, Qian Chong had already asked for wine, but Shen Jiaru strictly refused.
“Having lived in Beijing before, appetite is the greatest of human desires, although I don’t often paint food, but eating should be pursued seriously,” Shen Jiaru smiled. His mood had been very good since coming to Beijing, especially since the four children had been very promising.
Moreover, the bottleneck that had troubled him for many years had recently shown new progress, and he had relaxed a bit.
Occasionally, voices conversed at the dinner table, mostly Hua Jie, Zhao Xiaolei, and Qian Chong.
After a hearty meal with plenty of drinks, every child was thoroughly satisfied, and Shen Jiaru indulged in foreign cuisines he couldn’t normally enjoy in Jinsong.
Thinking that there were still many days ahead, he planned to find time for a Thai or Japanese meal, which would make the trip worthwhile.
When it came time to settle the bill, the young and beautiful cashier surprisingly mentioned that the bill had already been paid.
Frowning, Shen Jiaru looked around at the other people, his gaze shifting from one puzzled face to another until it landed on Lu Yunfei’s somewhat embarrassed red cheeks.
“Did you pay?” Shen Jiaru wiped his mouth and asked Lu Yunfei.
“…Yes, I’ve always wanted to treat you to a meal…” The young Lu was clearly not skilled at inviting people out or giving gifts, his statement awkward and shy, as if he was the one in debt, not the host.
Shen Jiaru patted Lu Yunfei on the head, knowing well that although this student spoke the least, he was not without thought or gratitude.
He kept his thoughts and appreciation to himself, knew to be grateful, and was indeed a good kid.
“Alright, let’s go. Shall we take a walk? Tomorrow, shall we sketch at Jingshan or Tiananmen?” Shen Jiaru led the kids out, a teacher followed by a troop of one elder and four younger relatives and students.
In Jinsong, during winter evenings, everyone would be indoors watching TV or playing mahjong with friends, and nearly no one strolled the streets, with most shops closing by seven or eight.
Yet, the capital’s night was still bustling. People walked up and down the streets, shopped, and hurried home from work, brushing shoulders as they passed.
The lights were bright and neon, noisy and crowded, dazzling to the eye.
Qian Chong, who had grown up in the capital, merely mentioned wanting to find time to meet friends, showing no curiosity or excitement about the city.
Fang Shaojun and Lu Yunfei, both raised in big cities, felt much the same.
Hua Jie was different. Although she had lived in Shanghai in her previous life, she never truly enjoyed that city.
She had been to the capital before, but her mood then was completely different from the joy of attending an award ceremony now.
At that time, she took on a project, came here to discuss work, faced deadlines, and felt the constant pressure and anxiety that accompany most people striving in big cities.
Taking a deep breath, she smelled the savory aromas from a street-side stall, looking out at the grandeur of the big city and the simplicity of the new millennium, along with the unique cultural charm of Beijing.
This city, like a robustly growing youth, had shaken off its past hardships and was about to embrace the biggest and fastest economic development over the next 20 years, transforming into a mature adult full of cultural confidence, wealth, depth, and strength.
She walked slowly, always taking care to look closely at every spot she passed.
Shen Jiaru had only been out for a leisurely stroll, but gradually found himself infected by Hua Jie’s emotions—the curiosity and affection for the new world, a passion desperately needed by any creator.
It was contagious.
Only by traveling with the right person can you truly appreciate the joy of sightseeing and admiration.
Standing on the capital’s streets, Shen Jiaru suddenly grabbed Hua Jie’s shoulders.
At this moment, he deeply disdained the other three students who were numb to the beauty of the big city, pouring all his appreciation and admiration onto little Hua Jie.
Following her gaze, her rhythm, her expressions and eyes, he re-evaluated the city he had once lived in, suddenly feeling an impulsive urge.
The urge to observe carefully and sincerely, to write earnestly and sincerely.
An urge that had been dormant for a long time.
The night tour was planned to last only half an hour.
But it stretched to over two hours because Hua Jie had sparked the teacher’s interest.
It wasn’t until Qian Chong complained, Fang Shaojun felt sore all over, and even the reticent Lu Yunfei was eager to return to the hotel, that it ended.
The next morning, Shen Jiaru led the group out, announcing that the plan to sketch only during the day had now extended to include the night as well.
That evening, he would take the children to a mysterious place, so Hua Jie looked forward to it all day.
After dinner, which included Thai live shrimp, the group arrived at the tallest building near the Forbidden City. Taking a box elevator to the top, they settled in a quiet restaurant.
Overlooking countless household lights, they gazed at the night-shrouded imperial city of the Forbidden City.
Hua Jie had never seen the capital from this angle and excitedly waved her brush, eager to capture this beauty on her canvas.
Fang Shaojun also leaned against the window, looking towards the city’s edge, realizing for the first time just how vast Beijing was.
This towering building seemed to have been built only in the last two years; it hadn’t been there when she last visited.
Qian Chong circled the restaurant, taking in every angle of the cityscape.
Lu Yunfei was fascinated by the yellow and red streaks drawn by car tail lights and headlights on the road below, which exuded a sense of technology and eerie punk.
Shen Jiaru, with his legs crossed, ordered a drink and watched his students’ eager excitement with great satisfaction.
These children were fortunate to have a teacher like him.
After all, his aesthetic sense was exceptional.
If Ju Lei had only known to take his students to Jingshan, the Forbidden City, and Tiananmen Square to paint those over-represented landscapes, without any sense of his own composition and aesthetic awareness for fieldwork, it would have been a disaster.
After a sip of wine, he set up his easel, planning to sketch alongside the children tonight.
Following the children’s natural curiosity and naive passion for the world, he sought to rediscover his own initial approach to painting.
…
Shen Jiaru led his students to sketch the city from a high-rise building.
A few editors at “Visual 111” magazine were still working overtime.
“Tomorrow is the Qingmei Biennale award ceremony, with many top painters and professors from around the country attending. It represents the new generation of top talents in the national art scene. Why don’t you go?” said the magazine president as he stepped out of his office, recalling the significant event and then turning towards the chief editor’s office.
Chief editor Hu Yue frowned, “There’s an Italian silverware exhibition at the National Exhibition Hall, and I plan to go there tomorrow. Plus, there’s a fashion event in the afternoon where I can gather lots of photos. I’m preparing an article titled ‘New Age Women and Their Aesthetic Directions’. Let Xiao Li cover the Biennale.”
“…” The boss leaned in the doorway, then suddenly said, “Remember the oil painting master you wanted to interview but got rejected two years ago?”
“Teacher Shen Jiaru?” Hu Yue immediately looked up, his eyes, weary from the day’s work, wide open.
“Yes, the painter who was singled out by a magazine in Paris for his superior aesthetic, representing contemporary Eastern art levels. Shen Jiaru, who had an exhibition in Italy eight years ago, where all his paintings were auctioned off, sold out after the exhibition, causing a sensation at home and internationally covered by many magazines,” the boss recalled why they had wanted to interview Shen Jiaru.