After lunch, Hua Jie took out the painting she had done, and asked her father to help make a frame for it. She quickly sketched a design and discussed it with her father before handing over the painting and returning to her room to study.
When she got tired of studying, she practiced drawing while listening to English. And when she grew weary of drawing, she resumed studying, tackling difficult questions. And when fatigue set in again, she stood up, did some exercises while listening to English, and took a stroll around the house.
In the midst of her busy schedule, time flew by quickly. It wasn’t until the darkness fell that she stretched lazily, closed the curtains, and walked out of her room.
The aroma of delicious food had already begun to fill the house. Hua Jie rushed over to hug her mother, wanting to massage her shoulders, but was gently pushed away.
Failing in her attempt to show filial piety, she turned to set the table instead. Her father, who was sitting in the living room watching TV, turned to her and said, “The frame is done, and I also cut a piece of glass to fit. Take a look and see if you’re satisfied.”
“Oh!” She had almost forgotten about the frame, so she hurried over to take a look.
When she picked up the painting from the floor and examined it, she couldn’t help but exclaim, “Oh my, Dad, your craftsmanship is incredible! How did you make it so smooth, like metal?”
“I sanded it countless times,” her father replied, looking like he was complaining but actually boasting.
“It’s so beautiful, Dad. The finished product you made is even more beautiful than the design I came up with! The details are so exquisite! You even added two dragon heads on the corners! This painting doesn’t deserve such a wonderful frame!” Hua Jie praised her father endlessly.
Her father had intended to boast a little more, but his daughter’s praise left him speechless. Unable to keep a straight face any longer, he chuckled and scolded her, “Who taught you to be so eloquent?!”
But his voice was filled with laughter and indulgence.
Hua Jie couldn’t stop admiring the frame, so she sat on the sofa and squeezed into her father’s embrace. The tough guy, unaccustomed to his daughter’s coquettishness, couldn’t push her away no matter how hard he tried.
Holding the frame, she sighed, “What’s wrong? Is there something you’re not satisfied with?” Her father immediately became serious, turning to look at the frame. It seemed fine to him, so why was she sighing?
“I’m just too satisfied, Dad. You’ve done such a great job that I don’t want to give it away to anyone,” Hua Jie pouted, holding the painting in her arms and touching the finely polished wooden frame. Then she looked up and asked, “Dad, can you make another one that’s not as good?”
Her father couldn’t help but laugh again at her teasing. He reached out and patted her on the head, laughing as he ushered her away.
“What nonsense are you talking about? Hurry up and eat. Look at you, sitting there like a dumpling. Sit up straight and don’t lean on me.”
“…” Puffing her cheeks, she turned her head to glare at her dear father.
Such a typical straight-laced man!
Other dads nowadays spoil their daughters, holding them in the palms of their hands, wishing to carry them every day.
But look at her dad! She tries to be affectionate with him, and all he does is shoo her away.
Poor Hua Jie, ignored by her father’s indifference, poked him in the armpit and then dashed away while he was still glaring.
Back in her room, she examined the frame again.
The glass cover, polished by her father, shone brightly, making the colors of the painting even more vibrant and beautiful.
After being framed, the painting’s beauty increased tenfold.
Especially with her father’s excellent woodworking skills, the frame made it look like something only the rich could afford.
As she reached out to touch the frame, her admiration for her father deepened even further.
Her memories of the past had become blurry, but now she realized how talented her father truly was. It was a pity that after taking over her grandfather’s work, he ended up working on the railways as a conductor, a far cry from his skilled woodworking.
Although railway work was stable, it didn’t bring much income, and it lacked passion. Whether her father’s last-in-line succession policy was fortunate or unfortunate, she couldn’t say.
Lost in thought, Hua Jie suddenly remembered something. She could design, her father had great craftsmanship, so could they join forces and make some wooden products to sell?
What should they make? What was the most profitable item in the year 2000?
Where should they sell? Did they have connections in that field?
As she wrapped the frame in newspaper and placed it in a portfolio, her mind wandered freely, filled with fantasies.
….
Before class on Sunday, Zhou Jie went upstairs to find Shen Mo in the Go class.
A tall and thin middle school student relayed a message to Shen Mo for Zhou Jie. As soon as the young boy entered, he shouted to Shen Mo, “Brother Shen, there’s a girl with big eyes looking for you at the entrance.”
Despite his young age, he spoke with an air of superiority, pretending to be an adult.
As soon as Shen Mo heard “big eyes,” he knew it was Zhou Jie; her eyes were indeed quite large.
Walking out with an air of arrogance, Shen Mo saw the little potato holding a newspaper-wrapped object, which he couldn’t quite make out. Leaning against the wall, he asked curtly, “What’s this?”
His voice was particularly harsh.
“I painted it for you.” The girl was unfazed by his attitude, shoved the painting into his arms, and hurried away. She still had to go to her art class to practice watercolor painting.
Shen Mo weighed the object in his hands. Why was it so heavy?
Patiently unwrapping the newspaper as he walked back to the Go room, he began to feel a growing sense of anticipation.
He wondered how the little potato had painted him.
Seeing her run so fast, he worried that the painting might be ugly, fearing he might beat her if he saw it.
He was a bit nervous too.
When he returned to his Go board, he unwrapped the final layer of newspaper and saw his portrait.
Then, there was a long silence as he gazed at it.
The teenager sitting across from him, waiting to continue their game, grew impatient but dared not speak out in anger.
She painted so well, so lifelike…
The young man in the painting was almost identical to him, except…
Was he really that expressive?
Were his eyes really that bright?
Was he… that handsome?
Does the way she paints him represent how she sees him?
This painting resembled him, yet somehow seemed more handsome than he actually was.
His lips curled into a smirk, feeling somewhat proud.
He was also a bit charmed by his own portrait.
Then, his gaze suddenly fell on a certain detail in the painting.
The little potato had painted with such seriousness, capturing even the tiny mole on his ear with delicate strokes.
It was evident she observed him with great attention while painting.
Feeling as though she had seen through his entire being, Shen Mo didn’t feel embarrassed when he modeled for others, but now, looking at this painting, he blushed.
It felt like being alone in a room with her, being meticulously examined by her, while he couldn’t move.
This feeling… was just too strange.
Reaching up to touch the small mole on his ear, it felt warm to the touch.
He quickly raised his hand and fanned himself a couple of times to cool down.
In his mind, he seemed to recall the focus and enthusiasm in her gaze as she painted.
At that time, he thought everyone was the same, but now he felt she was particularly different.
She must have observed more attentively, as these delicate brushstrokes felt like her slender fingers, tracing his eyebrows, his eyes, his collarbone—one by one, as if her touch had ignited warmth all over his body.
“…” Shen Mo quickly raised his head, forcing himself not to look at the painting.
It felt like his own portrait was scorching him, yet he couldn’t help but hold onto it tightly.
The teenager who had been playing Go with Shen Mo finally couldn’t resist and curiously peeked over to see what Shen Mo was smiling and blushing at.
Upon seeing it, he couldn’t stay seated. He stood up and walked behind Shen Mo, exclaiming:
“Wow! This painting is amazing! Where did you get it, Brother Shen?”
“Is it good?” Shen Mo asked, lifting his head proudly.
“It’s incredibly good, way better than a photo! So artistic! Superb!” The teenager sincerely exhausted all his vocabulary to express his admiration.
“That’s because the model is good-looking,” Shen Mo said with a smirk.
“Of course it is!” the people around him agreed.
Shen Mo let out a low hum, his expression neutral but his eyes shining brightly.
Seeing many people approaching to take a look, he casually lifted the painting so that more people could see it clearly.
The little potato really had some talent; it wasn’t in vain to have such a good model like him, saving him from embarrassment.
“Do you like it?” Shen Mo asked the people gathering around.
Everyone nodded in unison, some even eagerly asking where he bought it.
“The painting is 50, plus framing, discounted to 90 each,” Shen Mo swatted away a hand that tried to touch the painting, guarding it closely.
Look, but don’t touch.
“It’s better than an artistic photo, and cheaper too! So trendy,” a well-off girl exclaimed, eager to try it out. “Shen senior, where did you buy it? I want to buy one too.”
“This artist doesn’t take commissions, she just paints whoever she wants. But… I can ask for you,” Shen Mo said, pretending to do a favor.
“Great, great, please ask for me! Thank you!” the girl clasped her hands together, her face full of anticipation.
Many others among the onlookers also expressed their desire to acquire one. In this era, those who could afford to attend Go classes weren’t from poor families.
Shen Mo responded indifferently to their inquiries, proudly admiring the painting and thinking:
It wasn’t in vain to accept her painting. By showcasing it, he could attract some business for her, which was a way of helping her.