In the living room of the large villa, father and son sat around the table.
The heater was on high, and both of them were only wearing thin pajamas, their cheeks still flushed from the warmth.
Shen Mo drank water sip by sip, trying to calm his agitation.
The tape recorder on the table played, with Hua Jie’s voice sounding a bit different after being recorded, but still conveying her passion for painting.
Shen Jiaru spread out his own sketchbook in front of him, listening attentively to the girl’s words with a serious expression.
Shen Mo quietly observed his father, noticing the same light in his eyes as the girl’s, a focus that gave him a special charm.
Perhaps his father was good, he just loved painting more than he loved him.
His father was strong, but he couldn’t give him happiness, nor the paternal love he craved.
The intense anger of adolescence had not yet turned into rebellion, instead, it became a rational silence.
Perhaps it was from reading too many philosophical books, or perhaps it was from Hua Jie illuminating the understanding, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate his father.
Everyone has their own life, his father just prematurely departed from his, leaving him to face independence.
Shen Jiaru didn’t know that his son was contemplating life as he focused on listening to the girl’s praises and critiques, occasionally smiling or furrowing his brow to jot down notes.
For someone who pursued art in its purest form, he didn’t care that Hua Jie was just an ordinary child without much social influence; he focused all his attention on her words. As long as what she said made sense, it was worth his praise, and he would earnestly consider her insights.
Where there are three, there must be a teacher for me. Perhaps Hua Jie’s painting wasn’t as good as his, but her words contained something new that he had never heard before.
Even in the discussions among great painters, he had never heard such viewpoints.
Over the years, he had felt a sense of stagnation when painting, as if he had reached an indescribable bottleneck.
But Hua Jie’s content on color matching, brightness, and bold use of color ignited his inspiration.
Marveling at many of the very advanced and unique ideas the girl spoke of, Shen Jiaru took a liking to her even before listening to the entire recording.
He wanted to take her on as his disciple, regardless of whether she wanted to accept him as her master.
She must want to.
A self-proclaimed master, once seeing a promising talent, couldn’t contain the urge to be a talent scout.
He had to mentor her well, shave off those rough edges, hone her skills, let her undergo a transformation, carrying her advanced and interesting ideas, along with her bold talent for color, to become an artist with a unique style.
To become famous and stand out.
She must not be wasted in this small northern city, squandering her talent.
He, Shen Jiaru, would not allow it.
After listening to the recording for a long time, Shen Jiaru finally looked up and found his son still sitting quietly beside him, not leaving.
“How was it?” Shen Mo asked.
“Like this…” Shen Jiaru spoke hastily, opening his mouth before even thinking through his plan.
“?” Shen Mo raised an eyebrow. Like what?
“On the weekend, find a reason to bring Hua Jie to our home,” Shen Jiaru said.
“…” Shen Mo frowned disapprovingly at his father, it didn’t sound like a serious plan.
It’s like a plan teetering on the edge of legality and insanity.
“I’m taking the students who come for the weekend class to Jinsong Vocational to sketch. That means it’ll be just the two of you at home.” Shen Jiaru didn’t catch his son’s gaze, immersed in his own plans, pushing forward with the arrangements.
“…” Shen Mo disagreed even more now.
What was his father thinking? Was he expecting him to use some kind of seduction strategy?
Was he finally deciding to sacrifice his son whom he had raised for over a decade?
“Then you bring her to my studio, show her my paintings, and naturally introduce my identity to her.” Shen Jiaru raised an eyebrow, somewhat uncertainly asking, “You know about your dad’s situation, right?”
“?” Shen Mo hesitated, “In what way?”
“The first painting I sold twenty years ago shocked the domestic art scene, fetching hundreds of thousands.”
“The second painting gained international recognition and made my name known both domestically and internationally.”
“Five years after selling that first painting, I had an exhibition in France, selling all exhibited paintings within a month.”
“Now, the starting price for one of my paintings can be several million. You know that, right?”
Shen Jiaru asked.
“Now I do.” Shen Mo knew his father was formidable, but not this formidable.
He knew his father was wealthy, but not this wealthy.
“Right, mention these to Hua Jie. Remember to make it sound natural, not forced.”
“…Okay.” Shen Mo nodded. Now it sounded like a proper plan.
“Then mention that I’m starting to take on apprentices, and there happens to be an opening,” Shen Jiaru lifted an eyebrow, “Just hint at this, and she’ll definitely want to become my disciple.”
“When she pleads with you, remember not to show that I want to take her as my disciple.”
“Just tell her that you’ll talk to me, and maybe you can help her get a chance to meet me. But my requirements for taking apprentices are very strict, and I might not favor her. She should be mentally prepared.”
“…” Shen Mo tugged at the corner of his eyebrow. Why did adults have to make things so complicated?
Why couldn’t things be simpler?
Sensing his son’s disapproval, Shen Jiaru sternly said:
“Only by doing this, can she take this matter seriously, know the difficulty of studying art with me, respect me, and then sincerely and earnestly study painting with me.”
“This is important, it concerns her future, and it saves me a lot of trouble.”
People who learn painting often have strong personalities, often self-proclaiming their talents and being defiant.
From Hua Jie’s paintings, he could see the inherent pride in the child. Having painted all his life, what he least tolerated was drawn-out disputes with others. Hence, starting off by having her obediently follow instructions would establish a positive cycle in their mentor-apprentice relationship.
“…Alright.” Although Shen Mo was somewhat impatient, since this was his father’s wish, he decided to proceed according to his father’s plan.
Shen Mo was never one to impose his own ideas on others, likely a result of his father’s laissez-faire approach to upbringing—everyone’s life is their own, and they should have their own ideas and live their own way.
Having decided on the plan, Shen Mo calmly excused himself from the table and went upstairs to play “Diablo II” on his computer. With its large backlit screen, a CPU approaching three years old, and a rigid keyboard, the computer tower would buzz in his ears after a while of gaming.
Yet, he was still blissfully happy.
Meanwhile, downstairs, having returned to the studio with the portfolio, Shen Jiaru began to experiment with the color schemes Hua Jie had mentioned, breaking away from his usual color habits and ‘playing’ with new ideas on paper.
During breaks, he would daydream about Hua Jie pleading to become his disciple, and he arranged in his mind where she would sit in the large studio for future lessons.
It seemed as if everything was already set in stone…
…
…
On a surprisingly clear Saturday, Hua Jie still got up early to memorize English words and phrases, then she slung her drawing board over her shoulder and headed out to study painting.
The sun, like a light in a fridge, was deceivingly bright, making one think it was warm when it was actually still cold.
Riding her small bike very slowly, careful not to slip on the icy, hard-packed snow, she took extra precautions in the winter in Northeast China, where safety on the roads was paramount.
Upon arriving at the Youth Palace, she locked her bike with two heavy locks before feeling secure enough to go upstairs.
After retrieving some temporarily stored art materials from Zhang Xiangyang’s studio, she clomped back down the stairs.
A watercolor class on the first floor was already in session. In her previous life, she had given up watercolor to focus on exams and had never paid much attention to how the class on the first floor was conducted. Today, she intended to take a good look.
If it seemed decent, perhaps she would consider enrolling—it was, after all, much closer to home than Jinsong Vocational.
“What are you doing, Hua Jie?” Jing Nian asked as soon as she reached the studio.
“I’m going down to check out the watercolor class on the first floor.”
“Then today I’ll copy the still life you have posted on your wall,” Jing Nian added.
“Suit yourself.” With that, she didn’t look back as she turned the corner of the staircase.
The watercolor classroom on the first floor was much smaller than Zhang Xiangyang’s gouache painting studio. The walls were adorned with various works by the studio teachers, including watercolor still lifes, pencil portraits, and quick sketches.
When Hua Jie knocked on the door, the watercolor teacher, Sun Nan, was arranging for several students to sit around a set of still lifes.
It had been just over a week since he started the class, and he had already enrolled nine students, which was about what he had expected. Although he couldn’t sell much artwork, earning money through teaching made him quite happy.
Hearing the knock, he turned to see a young girl with a drawing board on her back and immediately realized she was likely here to enroll in the class.
After instructing a few students to continue painting, he walked to the door, looked outside, and seeing no parents accompanying children, he asked:
“Where are your parents?”
“I came by myself,” Hua Jie replied, having never thought that parents needed to accompany her.
“Do you want to learn watercolor?” Sun Nan spoke as he led the girl inside, sitting down in front of the lectern before looking up at her:
“Do you have any past artwork? Show me.”
“Okay.” Hua Jie nodded, opened her drawing board, and pulled out several sketches, quick drawings, and watercolor paintings she had done by copying from books.
“Did you use gouache before?” Sun Nan asked, noticing a gouache painting that she hadn’t taken out from the drawing board.
“Yes, teacher.”
“So why do you want to learn watercolor?”
“I like watercolor, so I want to learn it.”
“…Well, for students who have a solid foundation in sketching and quick drawing, watercolor is indeed easier to pick up than gouache and can help reach the level required for college entrance exams more quickly,” Sun Nan tactfully pointed out the advantages of watercolor over gouache, avoiding mentioning the difficulty in scoring high with watercolor.
Hua Jie didn’t point out any shortcomings; she just obediently handed her paintings to Sun Nan.
While Sun Nan examined the paintings, she looked up at the display paintings he had on the wall.
Each painting had annotations for techniques such as ‘dry brush’, ‘wet-in-wet’, ‘salt technique’, and more.
The listed techniques were comprehensive, and the paintings were quite standard. Following them, one could likely learn the basic techniques.
However, the use of color was very rule-bound, and there were many issues. Overall, these paintings weren’t as good as those by Zhao Xiaolei, the watercolor teacher at Jinsong Technical School. The only advantage was the proximity to her home.
Better than self-studying in that it provided an artistic environment, and if there were indeed any techniques that needed improving or mistakes made, having a teacher there could offer many insights.
Was it worth a few hundred yuan?
Hua Jie bit her lower lip, conflicted.
Finding a teacher that completely met her expectations was tough, and finding a truly admirable mentor was practically a dream.
“Hua Jie?” After looking at several paintings, Sun Nan was ready to say that her foundational skills were solid and she could stay to paint today, but then he saw the name on the edge of a painting and frowned deeply.
Wasn’t this the name of the artist on several sample paintings hanging in the studio upstairs?
“Yes,” Hua Jie nodded. She habitually wrote her name on the bottom right corner of her works, even on drafts.
Sun Nan glanced at her and frowned.
No wonder this girl came by herself, without even a parent—she must be an undercover sent by Zhang Xiangyang from upstairs.
He guessed she’d first delay paying the tuition, then try to spread rumors among the students that the teacher upstairs was better, aiming to poach his own students.
Zhang Xiangyang really was despicable, coming up with such a nasty scheme!
The more Sun Nan thought about it, the more convinced he became, and he grew increasingly indignant. He looked at Hua Jie, who appeared sweet and clever with her clear, large black and white eyes. It was hard to believe that such a girl would partake in such vile tactics with Zhang Xiangyang. Truly, appearances can be deceiving!
“Hmph! You think you can join my art class with this kind of painting?” He flung the girl’s paintings forward, and with a slap, they fell to the floor. He nearly stepped on them.
He couldn’t believe these paintings were done by the girl before him.
Probably Zhang Xiangyang painted them and signed Hua Jie’s name to build a reputation—parents would see that under teacher Zhang, one could paint so well, and they would surely eagerly sign up.
Hua Jie was initially stunned, then a surge of anger rose from her belly, and her eyes widened with fury.
He dared to throw her paintings!
She hated it when people disrespected her art!
What level was this man even at?
To say her paintings weren’t good enough?
Not worthy to join his lousy art class?
Was he blind?
Such judgment and he’s a teacher?
He was more despicable than the worst clients!
Sun Nan hadn’t expected such an imposing expression to appear on a child’s face, and he was actually intimidated by a 15-year-old girl.
He was just about to pick up her paintings and throw them out of the studio, along with Hua Jie, but the girl quickly picked them up herself.
As she stuffed the paintings back into her drawing board, she glared fiercely at him with her large eyes.
Sun Nan frowned, and to maintain his dominance, he suddenly stood up, towering over her.
With a swift motion, Hua Jie slung the drawing board onto her back, and from the edge of the blackboard, she grabbed a teaching whip.
Sun Nan had thought Hua Jie might cry from his scolding, but he never expected such ferocity from the girl, who even picked up a whip as if to fight this grown man?
Of course, Hua Jie didn’t actually use the whip to hit him; she couldn’t beat him.
Taking a step back, she gathered her strength and, looking up, whipped her teaching stick towards his painting and retorted with a louder voice than his:
“How dare you lecture me with your skills?”
Sun Nan, hearing the scathing rebuke from the thin girl filled with vigor, was momentarily taken aback.
“You paint landscapes with only distant and mid views, but no foreground. How dare you hang such compositions on the wall? Do you think there are no professionals in this world who can judge the quality of your work?”
“Also, this painting, do you only consider watercolors without thinking about sketches? The sun shines from here, so why is there brightness here? Does your home have two suns?”
“And here, why is the shadow so dark? Haven’t you painted outdoors? Are shadows under direct sunlight black? Even if you don’t observe on your own, haven’t you seen famous paintings? Impressionist paintings, take any from Cézanne, Monet, Renoir, have you seen any of them paint outdoor shadows in pure black?”
“This painting of yours, the contrast in the midground overshadows the foreground, haven’t you noticed? The space is distorted!”
“Even if my watercolor is not up to mark, my sketching and quick drawing are better than yours!”
You dare throw my paintings? You’re not worthy!
After berating him, Hua Jie slammed the teaching stick back into the chalk tray, using more force than Sun Nan had when he threw her paintings.
After unleashing a barrage of criticism, she turned and walked away with her drawing board on her back.
This teacher is crazy!
If he doesn’t want to teach her, that’s one thing, but throwing her paintings?
She left furiously.
Hua Jie stormed off, leaving Sun Nan purple-faced, stunned, and speechless.
By the time he came to his senses and thought of retorting, the girl was already gone.
He gritted his teeth so hard they creaked, wishing he could lose all reason and storm up to Zhang Xiangyang’s studio on the second floor.
With a slap, he smashed a piece of chalk on the desk. Turning around, he saw all the students watching him.
Clearly, they had all heard Hua Jie’s criticism of his paintings.
It was… a humiliation. Attempting to humiliate another, he ended up thoroughly humiliated by a child in front of his own students.
He was overwhelmed with shame and rage.
From that day on, Zhang Xiangyang from the upstairs studio became his sworn enemy!
……
Hua Jie returned to the upstairs studio of Zhang Xiangyang, sat down, and was still fuming.
She sketched two watercolor paintings, and feeling some improvement, she finally took a deep breath.
During a break, the incident where she had created a scene in the first-floor studio spread among her classmates.
“I heard Hua Jie gave the art teacher from the newly opened class downstairs a terrible scolding, and the teacher couldn’t utter a word, almost internalizing the injury!”
“I heard it made him spit blood.”
“I heard she got so angry that she threw a piece of chalk in front of the whole class to vent her frustration!”
“Wow, that’s really impressive…”
“A woman’s valor surpasses a man’s!”
“When it comes to arguing, Sister Hua has never lost!” Jing Nian said and burst into laughter, seemingly having forgotten his own severe critique.
……
After class, Hua Jie, carrying her drawing board and sighing, sauntered out of the second-floor studio.
As she passed by the first floor, she glanced inside, hoping to see Sun Nan. If he dared to glare at her, she was ready to criticize his paintings again.
In her two lifetimes, she hadn’t learned many words to curse people, but she had plenty to criticize paintings!
Unfortunately, she didn’t spot Sun Nan and felt quite disappointed.
Upon leaving the building, she headed straight to the basketball court and indeed saw Shen Mo.
In the bitter cold of winter, the young man had tossed aside his down jacket, wearing only a sweater as he shot baskets against the wind.
His short hair, damp with sweat, fluttered with each jump. One could imagine how, on his way home after the game, his damp hair would collect ice, turning each strand glittering and beautiful.
Catching sight of her, the young man passed the basketball to another boy and walked under the hoop to pick up his down jacket, sauntering towards her with a body full of warmth.
The girl with bangs and short hair, and large, lively cat eyes, wore an oversized down jacket. Even on the weekend, she wore her school uniform trousers and met his gaze with a silly smile.
Such a person could only be Hua Jie, without a second thought.
He was on a mission from his father, waiting to take her home, and here she was, walking right into the trap.
As he approached her, she leaned forward and spoke first:
“Want to come over to my house to see my little bird?”
“……” Shen Mo.
This invitation… doesn’t sound very serious.
The boys playing basketball were stunned. What did they hear?
Going to her house to see little birds? Whose little birds?
Going to see Shen Mo’s little birds?
Is it that sensational?
“Hahaha…”
“Hahaha…”
Boys in the throes of puberty, giggling and showing envious and lewd expressions.
Shen Mo glances back fiercely, and everyone suddenly holds back.
“?!” Hua Jie raises her eyebrows in confusion. What are those boys laughing at?
Shen Mo puts on his down jacket and walks out of the basketball court, asking her:
“Can you cook?”
“Yes.” At 15, she was still pampered by her parents, never having touched kitchen utensils or condiments, but the reborn her was no longer the overly protected only child.
With societal hardships, she had mastered the survival skill of cooking.
“Nobody’s cooked for me today, I haven’t even had breakfast, come to my place and make me a bowl of noodles.” After saying this, Shen Mo grabs her by the back of her neck, hoisting and carrying her to the bicycle shed.
“…” Hua Jie, soon to explore the private abode of her idol.
The girl shows no resistance, even secretly thrilled about visiting the beautiful boy’s private room.
They hop on their bicycles and swiftly leave the youth center, heading straight for Shen Mo’s home.
Shen Mo’s seduction succeeds effortlessly.