After the story ended, almost simultaneously, he sat up straight, stretching lazily, pretending to have been lying down listening to the stories all along.
“Wow! That was so scary! Were you scared?” Hua Jie took off her earphones and asked him in a small voice.
Shen Mo shrugged, itching to poke her head but refrained.
“If you’re scared, how about we look at the art album together to ease the tension?” He took off his earphones and retrieved his father’s art album from his bag, smoothly transitioning the topic to his father’s work like a host suddenly inserting an advertisement during a variety show.
“Huh?” Hua Jie didn’t quite catch on, wondering what looking at an art album had to do with listening to ghost stories.
Coincidentally, the bell for the end of class rang, and Shen Mo simultaneously pressed the record button on the recorder. Then he pushed the album onto the seam between their desks and opened the first page, saying:
“My relatives at home painted these. I don’t know how good they are, but since you like drawing, I brought it for you to take a look.”
His dad wanted him to transcribe Hua Jie’s words verbatim, right? Recording it with the recorder should capture every word.
That’s how reliable he was in handling things.
Hua Jie blinked, propping herself up on her arms on the desk, lowering her head to look at the album.
“Huh?” As her gaze fell on it, she raised her eyebrows, suddenly intrigued.
Shen Mo leaned over and asked, “What do you think?”
He didn’t know if the little potato could understand the questions his dad posed.
“Whose predecessor’s manuscript is this?” Hua Jie held the album in her hands, flipping through several pages with a swift motion before revealing a smile of delight, then she bent over the desk and began earnestly examining it from the first page.
“The composition of this piece is excellent!”
“Where?” Shen Mo frowned, unable to see it.
“It makes full use of changes in size, width, distance, and so on to compose the image, which is very difficult!” Hua Jie’s eyes seemed to be glued to the painting.
“…” Shen Mo’s brow furrowed even tighter as he stared at the painting, unable to see any changes in size, width, or distance…
“Do you know the rules of perspective?” she asked.
“Geometry?” the studious Shen Mo asked in return.
“Hahaha, it’s about near and far, big and small, near solid and far virtual, near wide and far narrow, near pure and far gray. Look at this sketch, although it’s very simple, all these relationships are clearly reflected. This drawing can serve as a teaching example. If you put it on the wall, I could teach for hours without stumbling.” She raised her head, chin tilted towards him, and added:
“Of course, it’s not just because I have knowledge in my head, but because this drawing shows such a high level of professionalism. It guides me to review all the art knowledge I’ve learned!”
“It’s quite impressive, isn’t it?” Shen Mo, who spent his days and nights with his father, only saw him as a silent figure absorbed in his own world of art. Even though everyone who knew his father praised him endlessly, he didn’t really feel it.
His father never discussed his career with him, so he didn’t realize how talented his father was in the art industry; he only knew that he made a lot of money selling paintings.
But now, as he looked at Hua Jie’s gradually blushing cheeks and increasingly bright eyes as she looked at the painting, he seemed to vaguely grasp a sense of his father’s power.
“Really impressive.” Hua Jie looked up at him, nodding seriously, then added:
“Wow, these lines are just exquisite. Don’t you feel a sense of enjoyment when you look at them? Don’t you feel comfortable all over, and even want to keep looking?”
“…No.” Shen Mo followed her delicate fingers and looked for a while, shaking his head earnestly.
Hua Jie disagreed, rolling her eyes at him and murmuring, “It’s really beautiful. It looks like random scribbles on paper, but every line is in its rightful place.”
“… ” Shen Mo began to feel somewhat annoyed. Normally, he knew everything, and she sought his advice. Suddenly encountering something she understood very well while he was clueless made him feel stupid.
Unhappy.
“Oh, this picture is a bit of a pity. If this character… um, moved a little to the left, it should look better.” With that, Hua Jie picked up a pen and made a sketch on her own draft paper, correcting the position of the character.
“Mm, this does look better.”
“Huh?
“Wow! Shen Mo, the owner of this album is really talented. Look, on the next page, they moved the position of the character to the left. And they even added elements in the upper right corner. I never thought of that!”
“Are you praising the owner of the album or yourself?”
“Hahaha, we’re both impressive.” The girl tilted her head back, her proud smile lighting up her eyes and eyebrows.
Whenever they talked about drawing, she always seemed to shine, radiating brilliance from head to toe.
Shen Mo no longer looked at the sketches of the paintings that he couldn’t understand; instead, he focused his gaze on her face.
“Ah! I love this painting!” Hua Jie suddenly pointed to a sketch, excitedly saying to him.
It was a portrait, but Shen Jiaru had painted half of the person’s face black.
“Why is this half-black so appealing?” Shen Mo frowned, finding it far inferior to the portrait she had drawn for him.
“I wouldn’t dare to handle it like this.” Envy sparked in Hua Jie’s eyes. She wanted to draw like this, not only drawing accurately but also possessing extraordinary creativity, drawing what couldn’t be seen, drawing what’s interesting, drawing what has a soul:
“This person is truly talented.”
“… ” Shen Mo pursed his lips. Wasn’t her praise going too far?
As a son, he couldn’t help feeling a little embarrassed.
“Shen Mo, really!” Excitedly, Hua Jie reached out and grabbed his wrist. Like a girl who couldn’t help recommending her favorite things to her friends, her cheeks flushed, her eyes filled with emotion, she spoke sincerely:
“It’s because of this half-black that the woman’s beauty becomes more mysterious.”
“If the artist had just honestly painted the whole face of the character, it would have been just an ordinary portrait.”
“But this blackened part, just like the line from the poem ‘Holding a lute, partially hiding the face,’ is full of charming allure.”
“A woman coming out of the bath, partially hidden, is always more charming than one who walks out boldly.”
“It’s the concealment that tantalizes, the shy hesitancy, and the hazy imagination.”
“Do you understand?”
“… ” Shen Mo didn’t speak. He stared into the girl’s eyes as if gazing at the brightest star in the world.
His lips were tightly pressed, his eyes deep and solemn, a hint of red hidden behind his ears, his chest trembling, his wrist caught by her burning hot hand.
That burning sensation continued to spread, making his head feel dizzy and his body feel like flames were surging within.
Could someone shine so brightly when talking passionately about what they excel at, when they enthusiastically discuss their passions?
Hua Jie flipped through the album, commenting on each painting. With every stroke, every composition, she wanted to study and record them.
The 20-minute break between classes flew by in the blink of an eye.
With the homeroom teacher absent from the classroom, Hua Jie seemed oblivious to the bell, lowering the volume but still talking non-stop.
“Unfortunately, the color scheme of this sketch is too conservative. Our traditional Chinese painters are always willing to use dark colors but are hesitant to use bright ones. Modern aesthetics tend to favor stability and grandeur, but sometimes, excessive conservatism can seem dull.”
“Actually, even in such a grand painting, one can experiment with contrasting bright colors, which can produce a completely different visual enjoyment.”
“Of course, if done incorrectly, it can be a disaster. There’s no need to take such risks.”
Each sentence was a reflection of her dedication to the art of painting, a manifestation of her love and vitality.
Immersed in the world of painting, Hua Jie spoke with enthusiasm, her eyebrows dancing, her gestures lively and animated. She was so vibrant, so lovely and cheerful.
Unconsciously, the girl’s talent shone through.
Shen Mo listened and watched attentively, becoming her most faithful audience, gradually becoming enthralled by her dreams and feeling the warmth of her emotions.
At that moment, he seemed to understand his father’s obsession and self-forgetfulness. The years of resentment towards his father seemed to dissipate slightly.
He wanted to ruffle the little potato’s hair, and he actually did.
The girl’s hair was soft, surprisingly thick, and silky smooth, with a very pleasant texture.
When she finished speaking, and her big eyes looked over, eagerly waiting for his nod or smile in response, he felt like he had touched her warm soul.
He fell into her gaze, immersed in her fascination.
The sketchbook was not finished. The back pages were blank 200g watercolor paper.
Hua Jie touched the fine watercolor paper, feeling pleased. She thought about making a DIY notebook like this herself, to record inspiration and favorite images.
“Many great painters like Cézanne use watercolors for sketching and studies, and then finalize with oil paints,” Hua Jie turned to Shen Mo and asked, “The owner of this sketchbook, they also paint with oils, right?”
Shen Mo nodded.
The homeroom teacher had not shown up for this class, so the class monitor managed discipline, and many students whispered and chatted.
Hua Jie looked around and suddenly realized how time had passed.
She glanced at her watch and realized that the first self-study session had already been going on for 20 minutes, and she hadn’t noticed at all, as if someone had stolen her time.
How deeply had she been engrossed in her reading?
When she turned to look at Shen Mo, she found him still looking at her.
Immediately, she remembered her incessant rambling earlier, and her face instantly turned red.
She felt a bit embarrassed, thinking he must find her annoying.
“Sorry, I was just—” she began, but he interrupted her.
“I showed your drawings to this person, and they showed theirs to you, so you’re like art friends,” Shen Mo redirected the conversation, avoiding the girl’s embarrassment.
As he put away the sketchbook, he smiled and said:
“In the future, I’ll introduce this elder to you.”
“Sure.” Hua Jie carefully observed his expression, finding no signs of impatience, which relieved her.
Recalling how he had listened intently to her just now, she felt quite satisfied.
It’s rare to encounter such a good listener, and she rarely felt so happy speaking like this.
Really couldn’t tell, Shen Mo was actually someone willing to listen to her ramble on about so many professional topics without interrupting, such a gentle person.
“Thank you,” she tilted her head and grinned at him.
“Thank me for what?” he reached into his desk, quietly pressing the stop button.
He didn’t want his father to hear her soft thank-you voice.
“Thank you for being willing to listen to me,” she said. “In a lifetime, if you have someone who is willing to listen attentively no matter what you say, then you are truly fortunate.”
“It was something I wanted to show you,” Shen Mo raised an eyebrow. “After looking at the sketchbook, you don’t feel scared anymore, right?”
“Scared?” Hua Jie blinked.
“Zhang Zhen telling ghost stories,” Shen Mo said.
“Ah… I forgot you showed me the sketchbook to ease the scary atmosphere.”
“Are you a fish?”
“What’s wrong with being a fish?”
“Three-second memory.”
Shen Mo expected her to retort with something like ‘you’re the fish’, but the girl, after a moment of contemplation, suddenly grinned mischievously. Then she puffed out her cheeks, pretending to be a fish blowing bubbles, and after a couple of “plops,” she winked at him.
“Definitely not scared anymore,” she said.
Shen Mo watched her antics, silently mocking her: silly.
Then… his hand itched again.
Not only did he want to ruffle her hair, but he also wanted to pinch her cheeks.
“…I recorded what you just said,” he suddenly said.
“Huh?” Hua Jie froze.
He adjusted the tape recorder and handed her the earpiece to listen.
It was the first time Hua Jie heard her own voice on a recording, it felt strange, and… quite passionate… Was she really like this when talking about painting?
So this is how it sounds…
“It’s a bit embarrassing,” she said, looking up shyly.
“It’s fine, can I keep this for the owner of the sketchbook to listen to?” he asked.
He was usually domineering, but he could also be sensitive and considerate of others’ feelings.
“Does this person want to listen?” she asked.
“Yeah, finding like-minded people isn’t easy, and he wants to hear,” Shen Mo shrugged.
“Sure, if this elder has time, we can arrange to paint together,” Hua Jie said excitedly.
“…” Shen Mo pursed his lips. He couldn’t imagine his dad and Hua Jie arranging to go sketching together, sitting side by side on stools, each with their own canvas… That scene… Grandfather and granddaughter bonding time?
Outside the window, the sky was dimming, it was still before the end of the school day, yet it was already dark.
Occasionally, branches would tap against the window in the wind, resembling monsters with their gnashing teeth.
Inside the classroom, however, it was warm. The young man’s cold demeanor seemed to soften momentarily, as if veiled in mist, and even his rugged features had a hint of gentleness.
He brushed aside his now slightly covering bangs, turning his head to look out into the boundless darkness outside the window. The faint streetlights illuminated his ink-black eyes, with two warm yellow spots twinkling in his pupils.