Is there anything more embarrassing in this world than your desk mate discovering your stash of risqué comics?
Hua Jie still felt uneasy the next morning, remembering her conversation with Shen Mo from the night before.
After her adrenaline from the confrontation had subsided, she earnestly wrote him a letter of apology, promising to focus on her studies and never again read such toxic comics. Only then did he verbally forgive her, no longer mentioning the words “Sakura Communication”.
As everyone gradually went downstairs in the morning, they planned to go out for the most authentic old Beijing breakfast of tofu pudding, youtiao (fried dough sticks), and large buns.
Hua Jie stepped out of the hotel and waited for the bus at the intersection. Her gaze lingered on an old man pedaling a tricycle, collecting scrap.
His cheeks were hollow, his skin darkened by the sun, and his lips chapped by the cold wind as he tied the newly collected items to his cart.
She paused for a few seconds, then turned and ran back into the hotel.
When she reappeared a little while later, the others were already boarding the bus.
In haste, Hua Jie hung the breakfast she bought from the hotel’s restaurant on the handle of the tricycle, then sprinted to the bus and boarded swiftly.
It wasn’t until the bus drove away and rounded the corner that the scrap-collecting old man noticed the breakfast hanging on his handlebars.
He looked around; the streets were filled only with people hurrying by.
Holding the warm soybean juice and meat pies in his hands, the warmth seeped into his palms, softening the chill of winter.
On the bus that had now traveled far, Zhang Daye leaned against the window, his gaze fixed on Hua Jie sitting in front of him.
After boarding, the girl clutched her art materials and backpack, gazing at the swiftly passing streetscapes through the window. Her pale ears and the delicate lines of her neck were strikingly beautiful.
In the eyes of Zhang Daye, a young man about her age, the girl’s image became much softer and warmer.
He was the only one who had witnessed everything she did.
…
…
The breakfast tofu pudding was the most purely authentic and deliciously fragrant that Hua Jie had ever tasted in both her lives. Whether it was the tofu itself or the magical sauce, this bowl of tofu pudding was undoubtedly the best she had ever had.
She felt she would never forget this tofu pudding for the rest of her life and ordered another bowl to preserve the flavor.
“…” Qian Chong stared at the second bowl placed in front of her, “To be able to eat like this is a blessing…”
“Are you mocking me?” Hua Jie glared at him.
“Is it that obvious?” Qian Chong chuckled.
“Can’t a youtiao shut your mouth?” Hua Jie kicked Qian Chong under the table.
Stuffed from eating, Hua Jie, with a slight bulge in her belly, walked towards the bus that would take them to Tsinghua University for a sketching outing, all while reminiscing about the steaming hot fried cakes, the crispy yet tender youtiao, the super fluffy and sweet giant twisted doughnuts, and the meat pies!!!
Ah… Beijing is wonderful.
Just as she thought this, her stomach growled as if in agreement.
…
The moment she stepped into the Tsinghua campus, Hua Jie tilted her head and sighed softly.
Ah! She hoped that in three years, she would be studying here.
Studying Chinese literature on one hand, sneaking classes at the Tsinghua Academy of Fine Arts on the other, holding the Book of Songs in one hand and a paintbrush in the other.
Wow, the ultimate artsy dream.
Hehe.
“What are you grinning about? Hurry up!” Qian Chong kicked her heel and moved past her, scoffing at her smile.
“Why are you always such a pain?” Fang Shaojun passed by Hua Jie, glaring at Qian Chong walking ahead.
“Mind your own business,” Qian Chong retorted.
Fang Shaojun was about to retort again when Hua Jie suddenly stepped forward and kicked hard at Qian Chong’s heel, “I told you, I hold grudges.”
“The only things that are difficult to nurture are women and small-minded men!” Qian Chong snorted and walked away quickly, wanting to keep his distance from Hua Jie and Fang Shaojun!
Hua Jie smiled triumphantly, then turned to meet Fang Shaojun’s eyes, both of their smiles turning awkward. The two, not very familiar with each other, awkwardly laughed before parting ways, each going their separate paths, feeling more at ease.
On this sketching trip, Ju Lei didn’t bring the three students who hadn’t made it into the top ten again, only bringing Sun Qian, who seemed a bit melancholic.
This man, after competing with Hua Jie in painting, ended up with frostbitten hands, now wrapped in ointment and bandages, even wearing gloves while eating to avoid having others see his bandages and deduce his embarrassments.
Yet the more he tried to conceal, the more pitiful he seemed.
Although the group was spread out for painting, they were not too far from one another, and by simply turning their heads or stretching their necks, they could see each other.
Sun Qian hesitated for a long time before approaching Hua Jie.
“?” As Hua Jie was setting down her stool to start a panoramic perspective sketch, she noticed him approaching and couldn’t help but look over curiously.
“…” Sun Qian stood there awkwardly, lips pursed, struggling to speak. After several deep breaths, he finally managed to speak, though with difficulty: “Does Teacher Shen really teach you systematically about compositional aesthetics and the like?”
“Creating beautiful and interesting compositions isn’t something that can be taught hands-on. However, Teacher Shen does systematically teach us several common compositions, but he advises against using them rigidly.”
“Moreover, every time we create a painting, whether it’s a large or small one, he’s quite open in discussing compositional concepts with us. He asks us why we chose a particular composition, what our aesthetic considerations are, and what emotions and meanings we want to convey.”
“Then, he provides suggestions and advice as appropriate, but mainly focuses on promoting our unique features. He doesn’t force upon us what is beautiful and what is ugly.
“Aesthetics should be uniquely interpreted by each individual, which makes it especially interesting.”
“Art is all about inclusivity and diversity, allowing it to develop through generations, giving rise to so many genres and styles.”
“…” Sun Qian bit his lip, pondering if systematic teaching was available, he might try to buy some books to study.
If it’s like she said, then is it only possible to learn properly under Teacher Shen?
His expression darkened again, and the hopeful light in his eyes dimmed.
“Why don’t you buy some photo albums by famous photographers, both from abroad and domestic?”
“By looking at them extensively and appreciating them, it will be very beneficial for you.”
“Whether it’s about composition or color matching, you can be subtly influenced positively.”
“Consider the color schemes of Monet, the shadows and warm lights he uses; Van Gogh’s color palettes and brush strokes; Munch’s use of whirls and contrasting colors in ‘The Scream’;”
“The meticulous detail and grand simplicity in traditional Chinese painting; the intent in Chinese painting and the realistic portrayal in oil painting;”
“You might also try to find what you are most skilled at and love to paint, like Monet’s waters, Renoir’s women, Qi Baishi’s shrimp…”
“A teacher can guide you at the beginning, but it’s not only through a teacher that you can learn.”
“Beijing has such great resources—large libraries, various art exhibitions, museums. Wouldn’t it be a pity not to make good use of them?”
“…” Sun Qian stared at her, realizing that when the girl spoke about these topics, she always did so animatedly, appearing so vibrant and radiant.
“…” Hua Jie raised an eyebrow and turned back to continue her painting.
“Thank you.” Suddenly, a muffled voice came from beside her, and something was tossed onto her backpack at her feet.
Hua Jie looked down and saw a small gift box.
She picked it up and turned to look for Sun Qian, only to find that he had already walked away quickly, as if trying to escape the scene.
???
Was it a bomb he had left behind?
Panicked, Hua Jie hurriedly opened the small gift box.
Inside was no bomb, just a tiny golden gourd.
“Hey—” Hua Jie called out loudly.
“I lost to you.” Sun Qian turned his head to say this, then hurried off, seeming afraid of being seen like a thief.
“…” Hua Jie’s brows furrowed slightly.
This person…
She rubbed the little golden gourd and sighed.
The set of oil painting materials and brushes he’d lost to her were already quite expensive, and they were items you couldn’t even buy in Jinsong Market.
This person… why was he so polite?
It made her want to challenge him to more painting contests… perhaps she could even make a fortune off it.
…
After painting for a while, everyone adjusted their positions. Unconsciously, Shen Jiaru’s four apprentices had gathered together again.
They sat in a curve, each spaced two to three meters apart.
Fang Shaojun could just lean over to see Qian Chong’s painting, turn her head to see the strands of Hua Jie’s hair falling beside her cheeks clearly, and stretch lazily to catch a glimpse of Lu Yunfei’s silhouette, his lips pursed as he focused on detailing.
Having completed two quick sketches, Hua Jie also captured the fashion of various women passing through the campus, some beautiful university students, some likely teachers.
While painting, she reminisced about the fashion styles she had captured on the streets of the capital these days, silently translating them onto paper.
She planned to buy a couple of outfits for her mother before heading back to Jinsong.
After returning home, she planned to design several more outfits, find a good tailor to make them, and dress up her mother like a doll—her mother hadn’t had the chance to wear beautiful clothes during the difficult past, and by the time their life improved, she had already passed her prime.