Why could Hua Jie improve so quickly? Why did Hua Jie seem to have a stronger foundation right from the start?
Why could Hua Jie be so relaxed and happy? As if she feared nothing about the future or anything else…
Why did Hua Jie have to suddenly appear before her, constantly reminding her that the world is full of geniuses, not just her?
Every day, Fang Shaojun feared that Hua Jie would surpass her, often feeling that she already had.
She pushed herself harder, squeezing every moment of her time into painting…
At last, in this competition, she still managed to outdo her.
She took Hua Jie as a test given by the heavens, and she would never admit defeat!
Suddenly extending her slender and long arm, Fang Shaojun leaned towards Hua Jie and gently drew her in, wrapping her arms around the slightly more petite cat-eyed girl.
She even tilted her head slightly towards Hua Jie, and though her eyes were filled with competitive fire and her smile faintly menacing, their body language suggested a good relationship.
Caught off guard by Fang Shaojun’s embrace, Hua Jie’s eyes widened slightly.
At that moment, Wang Qi pressed the shutter.
“Click!”
Hua Jie, wrapped awkwardly in the arms of the sharp-eyed Fang Shaojun, had her expression of shock and reluctance captured.
Sitting below the stage, Shen Jiaru smiled benevolently.
How beautiful it was, the sweet friendship of young girls, and their youthful days of striving for glory and winning prizes.
How wonderful…
…
A few days later, this photo appeared on the inner pages of “Visual 111” magazine.
Upon seeing it, Hua Jie named it “Overlord Fang’s Strong-arming of a Gentle Young Lady.”
…
…
Only the top three artworks were displayed during the award ceremony, arranged inside glass walls with a sophistication that resembled masterpieces in a museum.
During the post-ceremony free interview and art viewing session, people either crowded around the top three for interviews, rushed to speak with great painters and celebrities like Shen Jiaru, or earnestly admired the winning pieces of the champions.
Hua Jie used various tactics to avoid the swarm of editors and reporters and, after using the restroom, she quietly stood behind the crowd to view the five paintings in the showcase.
Ignoring the others, she focused on Fang Shaojun’s painting.
“Why did this win first place? It’s just a portrait, lacking any grand noble sentiment or particularly outstanding technique?” From the front of the crowd, a voice suddenly spoke up, clearly not convinced.
Hua Jie immediately frowned, annoyed by the disdain in the person’s tone.
Even though she was not content being second to anyone, Fang Shaojun was her schoolmate, and it was irritating to hear others badmouth her.
She thought about how to phrase her response and was about to speak up when she suddenly heard an elderly voice chuckle softly, then speak with a strong voice:
“Must painting always express some grand national cause? Must it always extol the landscapes of the motherland?”
“The nation is but a larger social organization. Can you truly comprehend what it encompasses? The beauty of nature—do you really understand it? Just because people speak of high and grand ideals, you shouldn’t just take their word for it and try to depict the same; that would be nothing more than parroting without understanding, meaningless. It’s better to be sincere and paint what you can truly grasp, to convey genuinely moving emotions and feelings. The emotional expression in this champion piece, I find very stylish.”
“‘Secret Love’ could only be painted by an artist of this age, and there aren’t many who can become artists at such an age.”
“This painting is a rare gem, its value lies not only in the exceptional technique but also in embodying youthful emotions—a sentiment that many renowned masters could not capture even if they spent their entire lives trying. Once they become famous and attempt to revisit the theme of unrequited love, their strokes are tinged with the vicissitudes of life, no longer able to capture the sincerity and purity of youth.”
“That sweet yet tart emotion is something everyone longs for yet can never hold onto—the beauty of youth.”
“And this painting, it helps everyone preserve that youth.”
“Not to mention the expression, the brushwork and color matching are also excellent. Those beautiful colors and combinations, can you really mix them yourself? A slight deviation could lead to a big miss.”
“Young man, if you don’t understand how to appreciate the merits of a painting, you shouldn’t casually criticize it—it only exposes your shallowness.”
The man, a fifty-something Beijinger, finished speaking and turned to look at the young man who had spoken out of turn.
The young man, embarrassed and red-faced, touched his nose and squeezed his way out of the crowd.
The Beijinger smoothed his gray beard and watched the young man leave. Then, he noticed Hua Jie with her hair in a bun and waved at her.
“!” Hua Jie quickly made her way through the crowd to stand by his side, whispering, “Hello, teacher.”
“Do you know who I am?” the man with the gray beard asked.
“I don’t know,” Hua Jie shook her head.
“Hmm… Your three paintings are quite striking. While everyone else has one, you’ve spread yours out and taken up three spots, monopolizing the center display,” the man smiled. He was Pei Jun, the dean of Tsinghua Academy of Fine Arts. The girl who had won second place in the competition his school hosted didn’t even recognize the dean of Tsinghua Academy of Fine Arts.
“…Ah, sorry,” Hua Jie was slightly embarrassed.
“Haha.” Pei Jun couldn’t help but laugh at her genuinely flustered reaction.
People around them began to watch the paintings while sizing up Hua Jie and Pei Jun.
Ah, so this is Hua Jie, who won the second place and displayed three paintings?
This is the runner-up who can paint both in watercolor and gouache!
“Are you happy being the second?” Pei Jun asked again.
“Happy,” Hua Jie replied, having just hidden her prize money in the inner pocket of her long johns in the restroom, her belly a bit swollen with joy.
“Not first, are you convinced?” Pei Jun asked further.
“It’s okay, but I think if the judges had slipped up a bit, me winning first would have been fitting, hehe,” Hua Jie chuckled and stuck out her tongue.
After saying this, she hurriedly turned back to see that Fang Shaojun was caught up with reporters and magazine editors, and she felt relieved.
“Hahaha,” Pei Jun laughed heartily and patted Hua Jie on the head, then turned and waved to Shen Jiaru, saying:
“Old Shen, your student really knows how to talk.”
The crowd surrounding Pei Jun immediately dispersed, turning their heads to look back.
Shen Jiaru, upon being called, nodded to Hu Yue with whom he was speaking, and then stepped into the crowd to stand beside Pei Jun.
“What is it? What did Hua Jie say?” Shen Jiaru also patted his student on the head and turned to ask Pei Jun.
“She said she should have been the champion,” Pei Jun candidly betrayed the young girl.
“!!!!” Hua Jie was astonished and wide-eyed, Ah! How could this gentleman do this?
She clearly said it would be fitting if the judges had slipped, but never outright claimed she should have been the champion…
“Really? Hahaha… Well, my students should indeed have that confidence and ambition,” Shen Jiaru looked up at the paintings in the display case, focusing on the third-place painting by Zhang Daye with its heavy color and meticulous detail, expressing regret:
“It’s a pity my students didn’t sweep the top three.”
“You…” Pei Jun stared at Shen Jiaru and shook his head with a wry smile.
Shen Jiaru met Pei Jun’s expression with a hearty laugh, then cheerfully said to his student:
“Hua Jie, this is Mr. Pei Jun, the dean of Tsinghua Academy of Fine Arts.”
“…Hello, Teacher Pei,” Hua Jie hurriedly greeted him, deeply embarrassed.
Oh no!
She had just boldly claimed in front of the highest-level official from the organizing body that winning the championship wouldn’t be out of the question for her…
Ah!
Her toes were almost curling in her shoes from the awkwardness!
“Haha, hello, little champion Hua Jie,” Pei Jun stroked his gray beard again.
“…Please, Teacher Pei, don’t…” Hua Jie’s face was nearly dripping blood from embarrassment.
“Haha.”
“Hahaha.”
Pei Jun and Shen Jiaru, both elders, couldn’t help but laugh heartily at her expression.
It seems that when faced with a cute yet embarrassed little creature, it’s almost irresistible not to tease a little.
…..
The award ceremony and preliminary interviews were all wrapped up by noon.
Many small magazines and newspapers gathered enough photos and information to craft their articles and left contentedly.
However, the major art and fashion magazines were not yet satisfied.
In this era, the Chinese public’s admiration for celebrities was not as overwhelming as it would be in future generations. Many consumers, possessing significant purchasing power, held a deeper affection for writers, painters, and other artists than for celebrities.
Thus, big magazines were eager to feature Shen Jiaru, a wealthy painter whose works sold abroad for millions at auctions, satisfying many people’s admiration for the successful.
Magazines like “Visual 111,” “Art World,” “Northern Weekend,” and “World of Light” stayed behind, as did the leaders of art-related publications.
They aimed to gather more firsthand content, whether it was interviewing Shen Jiaru or the winners of the top three prizes, which was preferable to hastily written superficial articles.
After the Qingmei Biennale Exhibition, a month-long art exhibition was planned, and because art exhibitions were not as prolific then as in later times, renting the exhibition hall for a month did not exceed the budget.
During today’s award ceremony, the competition organizers announced the start date of the post-exhibition exhibition. More publicity from major magazines and newspapers would certainly be beneficial.
Thus, Wang Jian enthusiastically invited these editors, reporters, and renowned photographers, along with industry moguls and veterans, as well as the award-winning newcomers, to join him for lunch.
Just as Shen Jiaru expected, three minibuses packed with people headed straight to Quanjude.
Fortunately, Wang Jian had anticipated a large turnout and had reserved several adjacent tables, preventing a need to wait in line forever.
The main branch of Quanjude was decorated in a quaint style, resembling the manor of an ancient wealthy lord, with red lanterns and a pure wooden structure. Its pavilions and towers, winding corridors, and interior and exterior courtyards were laid out with tables in uniquely elegant settings.
This was Hua Jie’s first visit to the main branch; she had only been to a subsidiary before and could never secure a reservation at the main location.
From the moment she entered the restaurant, she carefully observed every piece of furniture and every decoration, planning to draw up plans as soon as she returned to Jingzhou to give to her father—the firsthand information on Beijing’s most luxurious Chinese-style furniture was invaluable.
As Hua Jie followed Shen Jiaru to their table, Pei Jun, sitting two seats away, suddenly called out with a smile:
“Hua Jie, come sit over here.”
Hua Jie turned to look at Shen Jiaru, seeking his approval.
Shen Jiaru was immediately appeased by his student’s respectful and obedient demeanor behind her gaze—it was a testament to the character strength of a teacher, indeed. The way students treated their teachers could not lie.
“Please, have a seat,” Shen Jiaru nodded, and along with Fang Shaojun and the others, moved two seats to the right. Thus, Pei Jun was on Hua Jie’s left, with Fang Shaojun next to her, followed by Shen Jiaru. Everyone still sat neatly together without separation.
Pei Jun patted Hua Jie’s shoulder and asked with a smile, “Have you had Peking duck in Beijing yet?”
“Not yet,” Hua Jie replied politely.
“This time you can eat to your heart’s content. The crispy duck skin dipped in sugar, that’s really delicious,” Pei Jun seemed very fond of Hua Jie, the obedient junior, ignoring the other big shots at the table and instead kept chatting with her about everyday matters.
“Teacher Pei, you really know how to enjoy good food,” Hua Jie said instinctively.
“…” Pei Jun was momentarily taken aback; he was often praised for his painting, his keen eye, and his teaching, but he had never been complimented for his eating.
It was unlikely that other peers and juniors would dare describe him, a leading figure in the art world, as ‘knowing how to eat.’
After a moment, he suddenly laughed, as if the compliment had taken him back to his younger days, adding a charming touch of human warmth to his persona.
“I do enjoy eating. There are only so many pleasures in life; after reaching a certain point in pursuit, further progress becomes difficult. But appetite is endless, pursuing it brings happiness and satisfaction without any sense of defeat or pain,” Pei Jun laughed heartily, leaning back into his chair, struck by a sudden insight.