“Who was it that arrogantly claimed our paintings were all altered by our teacher?”
“Think you’re the second in command under heaven? Spreading rumors just takes opening your mouth, and whatever you say goes?”
“Come over and apologize to us, make it sincere!”
“…”
Silence fell all around, no one responded.
Lu Yunfei quietly packed up his painting supplies, acting as if nothing had happened.
Fang Shaojun, with her arms crossed, swept her indifferent gaze over everyone, finally resting on Sun Qian.
Hua Jie’s gaze stayed on Sun Qian, silent but her stance clear.
Pity is pity, but where an apology is owed, it must be given. The world is such that being pitiable doesn’t mean you can overcome everything.
Sun Qian gritted his teeth and endured for a while before finally saying:
“I’m sorry.”
The other three students of Teacher Ju Lei followed Sun Qian’s lead, reluctantly muttering apologies, swallowing their shame and sense of defeat.
Qian Chong was about to demand they speak up louder when Fang Shaojun suddenly punched him in the back, stopping him mid-sentence.
“?” Qian Chong’s eyes widened, glaring fiercely at Fang Shaojun.
“Try not to act like a villain for once,” Fang Shaojun said coldly, then lowered her head and began to pack up her painting supplies as well.
Just then, a group of people came around the corner, led by Shen Jiaru, accompanied by Wang Jian and Ju Lei, all prominent figures in the art circle.
Upon seeing his teacher, Sun Qian’s face instantly paled, and he quickly bowed his head to gather his paintings.
Hua Jie intended to pack up her own painting as well, but Qiu Yuan stopped her.
Teacher Qiu turned to look at Sun Qian and the others, smiling as he said:
“Accusing others’ paintings of being altered by their teachers, such slanderous remarks about another’s reputation are highly taboo in our circle.”
“Since you chose to make this bet, you should be prepared for the consequences of losing. How can you learn anything if you end this so lightly?”
“Leave your paints and brushes for the winners.”
His voice was gentle, but his tone left no room for argument.
By then, Fang Shaojun had already packed up her materials and walked over to stand beside Hua Jie, exchanging glances with her upon hearing these words.
Sun Qian’s movements stiffened as he packed up. The more he feared his teacher discovering the bet and their loss, the closer he could hear Ju Lei’s voice.
Now, with Qiu Yuan standing nearby, enforcing a penalty for their mistake, it was clear this incident wouldn’t just silently disappear.
Gritting his teeth, his face pale, Sun Qian packed up his oil painting materials and brushes, and handed them to Hua Jie with tightly pursed lips, his eyes reddening, looking visibly on the verge of exploding.
The other three students of Teacher Ju Lei were no better off.
Hua Jie silently took the materials and packed them into her small backpack.
Fang Shaojun and the others did likewise. Although Qian Chong was typically disdainful of using others’ belongings, even if they were the most expensive and best quality available locally, he didn’t lack money.
But realizing these were spoils of war, trophies to flaunt, he gleefully packed the items, humming a tune as he did so, infuriatingly happy.
By now, Shen Jiaru and his group had approached. Seeing the kids, he turned to a woman with long hair down to her waist, dressed in a long black down coat, and said:
“This is Qian Chong.”
He then waved over to Qian Chong.
The boy who had just been boasting immediately put on an obedient face and walked over to Shen Jiaru.
“This is Teacher Bai Qingquan, she really appreciates your painting, come and thank Teacher Bai,” Shen Jiaru introduced with a smile.
“Hello, Teacher Bai,” Qian Chong quickly bowed in respect, straightened up, and then suddenly added, “Teacher, you really have sharp eyes.”
Just as Bai Qingquan was about to praise Qian Chong for his unique style, she suddenly heard his comment and burst into laughter.
She quickly realized that Qian Chong knew his style was somewhat unconventional, and that anyone who liked his paintings must indeed have quite a sharp eye.
More than just sharp—truly avant-garde.
“Likes to talk big,” Shen Jiaru laughed heartily, patting Qian Chong on the head.
It was then that the adults noticed something was amiss with the atmosphere among the group of children. Shen Jiaru looked at Fang Shaojun and Hua Jie and raised an eyebrow, asking:
“Are you all gathering here for a plein air session?”
“…Yes.” Hua Jie glanced at Sun Qian, who was tense and seemed on the verge of exploding, and chose to save face by not elaborating further.
However, Ju Lei seemed to sense something was off and suddenly spoke:
“Why the long faces? Not doing well in this competition doesn’t mean anything; just keep working hard in the future. Everyone, lift your heads up.”
Sun Qian and the others immediately raised their heads, though their expressions seemed even more troubled.
Shen Jiaru pursed his lips, his eyes sweeping over the children. Although he was smiling, his gaze was turning colder.
At this moment, Qiu Yuan, who had been watching the children’s plein air painting, spoke up:
“It’s good to see them all so motivated and competitive. Our generation was fine, but the number of people applying to study art is increasing with each cohort, and it looks like Tsinghua Academy of Fine Arts will need to expand its programs.”
“The competition will be much fiercer by their generation. Having this sense of crisis early on isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
“We shouldn’t be too harsh on the kids; let’s aim for them to be neither arrogant in victory nor discouraged in defeat.”
Wang Jian immediately chimed in:
“Indeed, the kids these days are painting better with each generation. At their age, I didn’t have such a good environment to learn painting in, which honestly makes me quite envious of them.”
“Haha,” Bai Qingquan and the others laughed along.
Sun Qian and his group hurriedly packed up their belongings, not wanting their teachers to discover that their brushes and paints had been confiscated after losing, which was particularly embarrassing.
Just as Wang Jian was preparing to lead everyone out of the Forbidden City, Qiu Yuan suddenly walked up to Shen Jiaru and said:
“The paintings for the exhibition, I’d like to bid on them, but it might be hard to purchase. Could I buy one or two of the paintings the kids made during this plein air session?”
“Qiu Yuan, you’re interested in these kids’ paintings?” Shen Jiaru asked humbly.
“….” From a few steps away, Ju Lei maintained a smile, but his gaze swept coolly over his students before finally resting on Shen Jiaru and Qiu Yuan speaking.
“Wang Ximeng was 18 when he painted ‘A Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains’ as a gift for Emperor Huizong;”
“Zhang Daqian held his own exhibition at 20, selling out a hundred paintings;”
“Michelangelo sculpted ‘The Pietà’ for St. Peter’s Basilica at 23;”
“Millet shocked the British art scene with ‘Ophelia’ at 23…”
“We mustn’t underestimate the works painted by geniuses in their youth. The spirit of youth, the naivety, and the pure, initial curiosity and ambition to conquer the world embedded in their talent, are something we, the older generation, can’t just pick up again no matter how much we wish.”
“Moreover, isn’t it fascinating to look back at the naive and heartfelt works of a great painter after they’ve become famous?”
“I believe those who are enchanted by painters would definitely love to own the artists’ earliest works to trace the path of their idol’s growth.”
“Buying them now, that’s what I call a real investment.”
“In the future, when people look at me, they’ll also recognize what it means to have a discerning collection.”
Qiu Yuan spoke passionately as he walked, a man naturally verbose when discussing his interests, yet his eyes shone with the sincere light of youth, lacking any hint of ‘dad flavor’.
Shen Jiaru, amused by the speech, laughed and said, “I’ve been away from Beijing for years, and it seems my debate skills have deteriorated, but you’ve certainly improved a lot.”
“Not too bad,” Qiu Yuan laid it on thick, seeing that Shen Jiaru seemed to be softening.
He turned his head to look at Hua Jie, who had been following quietly with her backpack and paintings, and finally revealed his purpose after all his chattering:
“Shen Jiaru, I’m interested in the plein air painting Hua Jie just did. I’d like to buy it.”
“?” Shen Jiaru raised an eyebrow, thinking Qiu Yuan was just being polite and using it as a pretext to praise his students, not expecting a genuine offer.
And here was Qiu Yuan, the vice-president of the China Artists Association, sincerely wanting to buy his student’s painting—this was an extraordinary acknowledgment.
“…” Walking beside them, Ju Lei struggled to maintain his smile, which was on the verge of faltering.
He pursed his lips, his gaze sweeping over Shen Jiaru’s surprised expression and the smugness in his eyes, feeling a pang of envy.
Comparing oneself with others could indeed be too distressing.
While no one else was paying much attention to him, Ju Lei, always comparing himself to Shen Jiaru, felt on edge, like he was walking on thin ice.
Meanwhile, Bai Qingquan and the others were energized by Qiu Yuan’s enthusiasm.
“Let me see the painting Hua Jie did,” Bai Qingquan said, moving past the others towards Hua Jie, eager to possibly make the first purchase.
“Are you really buying Hua Jie’s watercolor? What, tired of traditional Chinese paintings?” Shen Jiaru joked, beckoning Hua Jie over with a wave.
The young girl obediently walked up to his side.
He looked down at his youngest apprentice, who had blossomed beautifully over the past few months.
Her features were delicate and lovely, her eyes bright and spirited, radiating vivacity.
And she brought him so much pride; he couldn’t help but feel fond of her.
“It’s not a watercolor; it’s an oil painting,” Qiu Yuan suddenly said.
“Ah?” Shen Jiaru’s smile froze, transforming into astonishment.
What?
An oil painting?
Seeing even Shen Jiaru showing a surprised expression, Qiu Yuan burst out laughing as if he had played a clever trick that left everyone astounded.
He triumphantly grabbed the painting from Hua Jie’s hands and turned to show everyone:
“Look at this! Teacher Shen really has quite a talent here, this student can not only paint watercolors—no, she can produce watercolors with completely different styles, misleading us into thinking they were painted by two different people, and we even debated for a long time which one was better…”
“And she can also paint with gouache, ‘Carpenter’, a gouache plein air with a touch of compassionate realism and aesthetic.”
“And now, I’ve discovered she can paint with oils as well!”
“Take a look!”
“Haha, Teacher Bai, come, take a look at this painting.”
Bai Qingquan reached out to take the painting, but Qiu Yuan dodged, with a playful look of caution.
Bai Qingquan glared at Qiu Yuan and commented:
“The composition and brushwork are very good, and the arrangement of these three doves is quite clever.”
“Mm,” Qiu Yuan nodded, raising an eyebrow, “I watched her change this dove at the bottom from looking up to looking down, interesting, isn’t it?”
“…Mm.” Bai Qingquan’s eyes remained fixed on the painting, but she turned to ask Hua Jie, “Young lady, you wouldn’t happen to also paint traditional Chinese paintings, would you? How’s your meticulous brushwork?”
“…” Hua Jie, a bit embarrassed, turned to look at Shen Jiaru, licked her lips, and simply smiled without responding.
But truth be told, she did know a bit about traditional Chinese painting.
When she was young, just tall enough to reach the drawing board, her parents, busy with work, sent her to an elderly lady who taught Chinese painting and calligraphy to watch over her.
She continued her lessons until she was ten years old, when she left her small hometown to move to Jinsong City.
But… maybe it’s better not to mention it.
To avoid sounding like I’m boasting or showing off, even thinking about it feels awkward.
Shen Jiaru’s gaze also fixed on Hua Jie’s painting, and as he observed it, he glanced at his colleagues who were squinting critically at her work.
A sense of indescribable pride suddenly surged in him, that blissful feeling… his student was truly remarkable, and it warmly filled him with satisfaction.
He reached up to adjust his hair, then suddenly placed his large hand on top of Hua Jie’s head, pinching the little bun on her head with particular delight.
It wasn’t appropriate to praise her in public, but once they returned to Jinsong, he definitely needed to reward and commend her properly.
Months of effort, pushing forward with all her might, those sacrifices and hard work, had not been in vain.
See, isn’t this a moment of harvest!
He pursed his lips, his eyes sweeping up and down over Qiu Yuan.
He began to ponder what price to ask for.
It had to reflect Qiu Yuan’s fondness and status, after all. He couldn’t set the price too low.
That would make Qiu Yuan think he was being undervalued.
Haha!