As she passed the seven-story buildings at the front of Shen Mo’s residential complex, she hadn’t noticed anything yet.
But as he heads straight for the villa in the center of the neighborhood, Hua Jie’s eyes gradually widen.
“Wow, your family is really rich, what does your dad do?” Hua Jie raises her eyebrows, in this era to be this rich, could it be that he’s a corrupt criminal?
“Sells his art for a living,” Shen Mo says, tugging as he opens the gate with his key and casually parks his bicycle at the entrance.
Hua Jie follows, parking her bike next to his, muttering, “So there are still craftsmen who can make a living like this nowadays?”
The courtyard, though barren, reveals a refined aesthetic in its simple setup.
“Was your courtyard designed by someone?” Stepping on the stone-paved path, Hua Jie senses a hint of elegant artistic flair.
The overall decor here exudes the delicacy and beauty of a Japanese-style courtyard, different from the traditional Chinese-style manor that most wealthy people prefer.
“My dad designed it himself,” Shen Mo said as he pushed open the door, gesturing for her to come in.
Hua Jie bounced in excitedly.
After changing into slippers, she ran around preparing to tour the place, but Shen Mo pushed her into the kitchen by the shoulders.
“I’m hungry,” he said with ample reason.
“Let’s have a tour after you’ve eaten,” he added upon seeing her pout.
Only then did Hua Jie smile, tossing him her sketchpad and other items, and began checking what food was left in his kitchen as she tied on an apron.
Shen Mo turned on the TV, but his eyes kept drifting towards Hua Jie.
This guy had an air of effortless confidence; she didn’t act awkwardly in someone else’s home, and she wasn’t overly formal even upon seeing that his home was exceptionally wealthy.
In her view, many things that seemed important to others didn’t seem to matter much.
He was sensitive and often broody and irritable, whereas Hua Jie was carefree and cheerful, straightforward and blissfully simple.
Being with her, he seemed to relax a lot—the “little potato” was extremely valuable to him emotionally.
Watching her bustling about in the kitchen like a magician.
Half an hour later, two plates of fish-fragrant shredded pork over rice were served.
The aroma was enticing, with red strands of carrot, black wood ear mushrooms, and green bell peppers intertwined with the pork, steaming and glistening, whetting the appetite.
Forgoing chopsticks, he eagerly scooped up some carrot, a piece of pork, and a bit of rice with a metal spoon and brought it all to his mouth—
The sweet and sour taste was tinged with spiciness, the pork was savory, and the fresh sweetness of the carrot and the unique flavor of the bell pepper enhanced the dish. As he chewed, the juices soaked into the rice, making his taste buds rejoice excitedly.
The rice was soft and sticky, the pork tender and springy, and the carrots were fried just right, soft with a slight crunch, making chewing a delightful experience.
Fish-fragrant shredded pork is already a perfect dish to accompany rice, and Hua Jie made it exceptionally well, causing Shen Mo to eat heartily and forget himself, thoroughly enjoying every bite.
After finishing his meal, he looked up to see the girl eating slowly and smiling at him, which made him slightly embarrassed.
He had been eating so intently that he had forgotten to maintain his image.
“Tasty, right?” the girl asked, her eyes crescent like moons.
The boy was enjoying his meal so much, and it greatly pleased her; seeing him like this made her feel like she was the best cook, on par with the top chefs.
Shen Mo was really supportive, making her feel a bit of happiness.
She even thought about cooking for him forever; he must be using this method to brainwash her.
Hmph, such a flirt! What a player!
Shen Mo watched the rich expressions on the girl’s face, completely unaware that she was mentally swooning and badmouthing him.
Embarrassed, he took a gulp of water and pushed his bowl forward. Seeing that Hua Jie was about to get up and clean up, he grabbed the back of her jacket.
“Don’t bother cleaning up, the aunt will take care of it tonight. I’ll take you around and show you my dad’s studio.”
“Hey, can you not handle me like you’re picking up a chicken? Is it that impressive to be strong?” She swatted his hand away and exclaimed, “Your dad is a painter?”
“Yeah, he supports our family by selling his paintings,” he said indifferently.
“!!!” Hua Jie was dumbfounded. A man who earned so much money and owned such a house was a painter?!
In this era, those who could afford villas were typically the first to become wealthy.
As the boy pushed open the studio door, the girl peeked inside:
“Let me see!”
“So this is the person in the art album you showed me, your dad!” She concluded confidently after just a glance.
“Are you that clever?” he raised an eyebrow.
“Of course!” she turned around and struck a Conan pose: “There is only one truth!”
“…” The boy couldn’t help but chuckle; she was so amusing.
“Wow!” So many oil paints, so luxurious!
“Wow!” So many paintings, stacks of them, truly immersed in a sea of painting every day. Looking at these great works, what a sense of achievement.
“Wow!” So many brushes, a complete set of oil painting tools, so professional!
“Wow~~~~!” And so many gouache paints!
The moment the girl entered the studio, she felt as if she was in a treasure trove, thrilled by the valuable painting materials, unable to control herself, wanting to touch and try everything.
“Can I paint a piece here?” she turned around, eyes twinkling.
“Go ahead, I’m going to take a nap,” he said. He lived a disciplined life with early nights and mornings filled with study and exercise, and a high-intensity growth period, making a nap indispensable.
“I promise I won’t mess around,” she said with a toothy smile, holding up a finger as she pledged, a picture of innocence.
“Mm.” Shen Mo waved his hand dismissively; after all, the studio was a trap his father had set for Hua Jie, letting her roam freely inside. The happier and more fond she grew of the place, the higher the chances she would be captivated.
Leaving the little girl behind, the young master of the house went back to his room, took off his trousers and sweater, kicked off his socks, and revealed a pair of distinct, pale feet before crawling into bed.
His black hair sunk into the lemon-yellow pillowcase, his expression relaxed, and his entire figure softened.
…
Downstairs in the studio, Hua Jie felt like a fish in water as she touched here and looked there. She admired and studied everything, and soon found herself deeply engrossed in a landscape painting, unable to pull herself away.
After staring at it for a few minutes, she sat down at the easel next to the landscape painting, found a piece of discarded gouache paper with frayed edges, clipped it to the drawing board, borrowed the nearby brushes and paints, and began to copy the landscape painting.
…
Time passed, and Shen Mo woke up from a deep sleep.
He turned over in bed, closed his eyes, arched his back, and stretched lazily.
His long arms displayed clear tendons and full muscles with smooth lines.
When he pulled the blanket away, his shirt came undone, revealing his collarbone. He tilted his head back, hummed softly, and his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly.
His feet kicked, and the blanket slid down to his thighs. He frowned, opened his eyes, and looked down to see a small tent had formed.
He closed his eyes again, turned over, and curled up, about to stretch his hand out when he suddenly remembered that he wasn’t alone at home today—there was a young girl downstairs.
His face flushed red, and his body stiffened like wood.
His toes curled awkwardly, and his eyebrows furrowed tightly.
It was so quiet around him it seemed as if the whole villa was empty. He coughed lightly, took a few deep breaths, then jumped up and ran to the bathroom to splash his face with cold water, calming himself down after a while.
He put on sweatpants, ruffled his hair in front of the mirror, and then left his room.
As he walked downstairs, his voice a bit hoarse, he called out:
“Hua Jie, I’m thirsty!”
The girl sitting in the studio, who was just examining her freshly completed copy, responded:
“…”
She was at his house, she was the guest here!
Reluctantly, she turned around, left the studio, and walked into the kitchen to press the button on the electric kettle to heat up the water.
When she handed the water to Shen Mo, she smiled and said:
“Your dad paints so well, why don’t you learn to paint?”
“Not interested,” he gulped down the water and continued:
“When I was young, he tried to make me paint, and I ran away from home.”
“One doesn’t know the blessings one has,” she pouted.
The young man glanced at her sideways.
“Hey, let me teach you how to paint, starting from scratch with a starry sky.” She leaned over and tilted her head, her eyebrows arching suggestively.
Shen Mo, just woken up, was still a bit groggy and before he could react, she had already dragged him into the studio.
Holding his water cup, he sat in front of the easel, looking dubiously at the brush in his right hand, frowning and wondering: Did I agree to this just now?
Hua Jie had already prepared the colors for him, drawn guidelines on a scrap piece of paper with a pencil, and told him:
“Fill in this color, in this area completely.”
Shen Mo glanced at her but obediently began to paint.
His strokes were so rough that even wall plastering looked better than his painting.
The more he painted, the more frustrated he got; this is why he disliked this activity.
However, Hua Jie showed no signs of mockery, instead, she followed his strokes with encouraging murmurs:
“That’s right, just like that~
“Correct, you’re doing well~”
“?” Shen Mo was very skeptical.
Was she deceiving him? Could this really be considered good?
Hua Jie was using the encouraging methods from online tutorials of the future to coax him, continuously praising him, and he actually continued painting along.
Purple, blue, blue-violet transition colors… He quickly filled up the sky.
Then, Hua Jie taught him to use gray-blue and black to paint the mountain silhouettes, filling in these two areas before using a black pen to lightly dab in branches as tree shadows.
Lastly, she prepared white paint, dipped a stiff-bristled brush into it, and taught him to flick it onto the sky.
Shen Mo was dubious:
“Flick it onto the paper like this? Won’t that ruin the painting?”
Even though the painting he made was unattractive, it seemed a shame to destroy it like this.
“The bristles of this brush are very stiff, and I’ve mixed the paint to be quite dry. Trust me, when you flick it, it will create fine speckles,” Hua Jie encouraged.
Shen Mo hesitated but did as she instructed, gently flicking the brush over the paper. The white paint splattered against the blue-violet sky, forming tiny specks.
“Huh?” Shen Mo’s eyes lit up, his hesitant movements becoming more confident as he continued to sprinkle white dots across the entire sky.
As the paint hit the paper, it turned into stars scattered across the sky.
The previously lifeless and ugly painting suddenly came alive.
“Hey! Not bad!” he raised his eyebrows, now brimming with enthusiasm.
“That’s enough, that’s enough.” Hua Jie quickly snatched the brush away.
The young man stared at the magically transformed starry sky painting, cracking a smile: “It’s pretty simple, isn’t it?”
“Right? It’s fun, isn’t it?” she giggled.
In the future, many office workers learn to paint in their spare time, purchasing similar courses.
Creating a night sky with a toothbrush or a stiff-bristled brush involves no real foundational painting skills, making it a simple and fun classic project.
Almost anyone can complete it satisfactorily, then feel like a modest painting genius, achieving a sense of accomplishment—and thus buying more courses.
Watching Shen Mo proudly admire his own “Starry Night,” Hua Jie couldn’t help but think: If this young man were in her hands, she could definitely sell him courses worth thousands.
5 minutes to teach him to paint a starry sky, 10 minutes for the ocean, 20 minutes for a rose, and he’d keep painting non-stop.
Unfortunately, she had to focus on her Tsinghua University entrance exams, so she had to let go of Shen Mo, the hidden artistic genius among the people.
“Hehe!” Shen Mo took down the small painting, earnestly signed his name in the lower right corner, then took a round through the studio to find the most conspicuous and prestigious spot to display his work.
“Are you very pleased with yourself?” he turned around, seeing Hua Jie smiling even more cunningly than him, her face showing the proud look of a superior talent who had transformed the decrepit into the miraculous.
Humph!
In this studio, her arrogance was certainly rampant, but outside the studio, it wasn’t her world.
“Do you play Go?” he asked.
“A little.”
“Come on, let’s play a couple of rounds.” He patted her head and led the way out of the studio.
“I’m actually a little princess of Go.” At past gatherings of artists, she had played Go and beaten all her peers!
“…” He glanced at her sideways and huffed; well, then he was the king of Go!
Half an hour later, Hua Jie was red-faced, her eyes moist, losing so badly she questioned her life and her intelligence, wanting to cry.
As they counted the points at the end of the game, Hua Jie cried out, “Another round!”
Shen Mo, supremely smug, put down his crossed legs that had been up for half an hour, and as he gathered the Go stones, said:
“No more, let’s go to your place and watch birds.”
Though she was great at painting, well… hey, he had made a comeback.
Hua Jie glared at him, fuming, as sometimes this guy really could be infuriating.
She finally understood how those boys felt—wanting to beat him, but ending up being beaten themselves and angrily glaring at him.
Her heart bled internally, and she felt like stuffing him into a sack.
“If you do well in your final exams, I’ll teach you how to play Go during the winter break.” Patting her head, he walked to the sofa, picked up her down jacket, and urged, “Let’s go.”
“…Okay.” She arrived full of enthusiasm, but left dejected.
Shen Mo watched her disgruntled expression, his smile growing wider.
Bullying her was indeed enjoyable, almost addictive.
It wasn’t until he had ridden his bike a kilometer away from his house that Shen Mo remembered his father’s instructions.
He pretended to chat casually, feeling too embarrassed to brag about his dad’s impressive deeds, only mentioning that his father had recently opened an art class and there was one spot left.
Hua Jie sighed:
“Your dad really paints well! But… it’s a pity he paints oils, not watercolors.”
She had previously been in Shen’s father’s studio, admiring those paintings, which were truly impressive, no wonder he could sell paintings to afford a large villa.
But in her previous life, she followed a professor at the fine arts academy learning gouache and oil painting, and still didn’t make a name for herself, ending up as just an ordinary artist.
Rather than continuing with an artist who might be better or just as good, she preferred to pursue her dream of painting watercolors.
Anyway, she had resolved to focus on her academic studies, yes… aim for Tsinghua University!
As for the hobby of painting, it would still need a paying job to support it.
“Are watercolors different from oil paintings?” Shen Mo asked.
“Yes, they are different. Oil painting is like a novel, while watercolor is like a poem.” She tilted her head and giggled softly, her voice making painting sound especially romantic.
Seeing her pedal hard to keep up with his speed, puffing with the effort, Shen Mo quietly slowed down.
“Has the bird grown its feathers yet?” After a while, he asked.
“They have! It even sings sometimes now! It’s been over a month, the bird grows so fast!”
As they pedaled against the wind, they casually chatted about birds, dogs, and recent schoolwork, quickly pushing the topic of painting to the back of their minds.
…
Shen Jiaru, having completed a portrait session with his students at Jinsong Vocational School, returned home alone.
He had half-expected that perhaps he might find Hua Jie at home, unable to restrain herself after seeing his paintings and insisting on becoming his disciple as soon as he returned.
As soon as he entered the house, he found it completely empty.
It was one thing for the young girl not to be there, but where had his own son gone?
While drinking water, he noticed a note left on the table, informing him that his son had gone out to play and would not be returning for dinner.
Holding his water cup, he entered the studio, his eyebrows furrowed with worry that his son had completely forgotten his instructions. Then he saw a painting placed next to the easel.
He looked up at the reference painting on the bookshelf; the two paintings were almost identical.
Picking up the painting, which was clearly done on poorly cut watercolor paper, he flipped it over and, sure enough, saw the name ‘Hua Jie’ signed on the back.
It seemed his son had not disappointed and had brought the girl back.
Looking at the painting left by Hua Jie, it was an exact replica of his own—down to the exact dimensions. When placed side by side, they could almost completely overlap.
If the watercolor paper weren’t thick enough to prevent tracing, he would have suspected it was a print.
Pulling down his own painting, he held one in each hand and began to compare them:
“Her observational skills are really strong…”
“Excellent at recognizing colors, the color matching is perfect…”
“Even the steps of laying the colors are the same…”
“She’s even replicated the brush strokes…”
Is this child a human printer?
Shen Jiaru sat for more than ten minutes, finally tired from his examination, he lifted his head and sighed.
Where had his son run off to play? Not even staying home to wait for his return…
He wondered if his son had conveyed his desire to take on an apprentice and what Hua Jie’s attitude towards it might be…
Pursing his lips and raising his eyebrows, he fell into deep thought.
His gaze inadvertently swept over the studio’s bookshelf, and he did a double-take—
There was a new small painting there, a blue-violet night sky filled with twinkling stars.
Placed in such a conspicuous spot?
He stood up and walked over, then furrowed his brow. At first glance, it seemed neat, but upon closer inspection… what are these awful brush strokes?
Who did this? It looks like a mess!