“But how do you know his family is rich?”
“He wears new socks every day!” she replied with unwavering confidence.
“…” The girl listening to the gossip was left puzzled, feeling that something was off, but… what exactly?
“…” Hua Jie’s eyebrows twitched slightly.
Such naive young girls are really adorable…
After changing her shoes, she stood up shakily, trying to find her balance.
Though it had been a long time since she had ice-skated before her rebirth, she soon got the hang of it after wobbling and holding onto the walls for a bit, eventually gliding slowly but steadily.
Picking up speed gave her a rush of excitement, with dopamine pumping, making her incredibly happy.
Some classmates, holding onto each other in a line, wobbled together; if one fell, they all went down in a domino effect.
Others, not very good at skating, tried to speed up and leap, failing to stop in time, crashing into others and tumbling together in a heap.
Luckily, since everyone was dressed warmly for winter, falling wasn’t painful.
The classmates actually found falling to be fun; those who fell and those who watched all laughed together.
Liao Shanshan, caught up in the excitement, shouted Hua Jie’s name and caught up from behind, but failed to stop and plowed right into her.
Bent over, her face smashed into Hua Jie’s stomach. Initially worried about hurting Hua Jie, she ended up hurting her own face instead.
“Hey, Hua Jie, why did you bring a body armor out with you?” Liao Shanshan sat down at Hua Jie’s feet, covering her face and looking up.
Hua Jie laughed and pulled a sketchpad from her bosom, “Bet you didn’t expect this, haha…”
“…” Liao Shanshan.
Having skated a few laps, gotten the hang of it, enjoyed herself, and fulfilled the PE teacher’s strict requirement, Hua Jie found a sheltered spot.
She sat on her shoes to keep her pants clean, pulled out a small repeater from her coat pocket, plugged in her earphones, and listened to English.
With her legs crossed, she propped up the sketchpad, and started to sketch clumsily with her gloved hands.
The PE class was shared between two classes, making the playground very lively.
Each person was a perfect ‘dynamic model’—
The movements of running, falling, spinning, jumping… all were present.
Hua Jie watched like a hawk, observing every classmate on the ice, capturing their motions, and then quickly and concisely translating them onto paper.
As she sketched, her gaze increasingly focused on Shen Mo, unable to look away.
The young man skated around the rink like a tornado, at high speed.
Every time he approached the wall, he would bend and lean his body to make a sharp turn, eliciting screams from the female classmates.
It wasn’t just Hua Jie whose eyes were glued to Shen Mo; she was far from the only one.
Some boys tried to mimic his sharp turns, only to trip over their own feet, ending up looking clumsy and not at all cool.
Yao Nan initially tried to catch up, but failing that, he attempted to intercept.
However, Shen Mo smoothly circled around, dodging effortlessly as if on flat ground.
This left Yao Nan thrown off balance and crashing into a pile of snow, eliciting laughter from onlookers.
There were cheers too, for Shen Mo’s perfect evasion.
On her paper, Hua Jie captured his graceful postures, noting every movement of Shen Mo.
The pencil went scratch, scratch, scratch—
The movements of his hands while running, the placement of his feet, the expressions on his face, the direction his hair was blown by the wind, the way certain movements lifted his clothes, and how his scarf fluttered around his neck…
Overcoming the stiffness caused by the cold, her eagerness to draw made her strokes faster and more fluid.
Soon, her paper was filled with lively figures; after one side was full, she flipped it over to continue, and when both sides were filled, she started on another sheet.
Sketch after sketch, the page filled only with one person.
Shen Mo speeding up, Shen Mo turning, Shen Mo spinning, Shen Mo—always Shen Mo.
…
After PE, Hua Jie tidied up her sketches, each one of Shen Mo lively and spirited, before she discreetly packed away her sketchpad.
During a long break in the afternoon, Hua Jie asked for some time off from her teacher and took a bus to the city center.
She found Yao Nan’s family store and walked around, carefully studying every style, thereby getting a sense of the current level of furniture fashion in Jinsong City.
After a brief conversation with the store owner, she gained a good understanding of the most popular furniture styles in the store and a rough idea of the aesthetic preferences of the residents of Jinsong City.
Leaving Fuyun Furniture, Yao Nan’s family store, she then moved on to explore another furniture shop nearby.
In the winter of 2000 in a small northern city, it gets dark early, and the shops in the city center were already preparing to close.
Hua Jie briefly browsed and found that the information she gathered was similar to what she had learned at Fuyun Furniture.
Politely saying goodbye to the store owner, she hurriedly boarded a bus back to school.
On the return journey, she had thought things through and decided to go ahead with her plan. She had even settled on a design style, combining her memories from her previous life and her learning, and had thought through most of the design details.
…
…
Hua Jie rushed out during the break without informing her desk mate.
Shen Mo did a round in the classroom and saw Liao Shanshan at her seat. It was clear, then, that Hua Jie wasn’t just going to the restroom—
Because Liao Shanshan, that clingy pest, would always hold Hua Jie’s hand and insist on going with her, as if she couldn’t pee without Hua Jie being there.
Where could that little potato have gone?
Why hadn’t she even made his afternoon milk tea?
Utter lawlessness.
The young man, originally planning to play basketball, leaned back irritably in his seat, no longer wanting to go anywhere, only occasionally glancing outside at the playground through the window. The sky had already darkened, making it impossible to see any faces clearly.
He felt like he had lost his dog.
Annoyed, he started shaking his leg, vibrating like a generator.
His chair shook along with his leg, as did the desk, and Hua Jie’s desk next to his shook too.
Suddenly, a small sketchpad vibrated out of Hua Jie’s desk drawer.
The young man grabbed the sketchpad intending to put it back, but a folded piece of paper fell out, revealing a quick sketch of him.
Curious, he pulled out the sketchpad entirely.
At the very top were a few blank sheets; when he flipped them aside, he discovered the hidden sketches underneath.
In bright weather, the youthful Shen Mo leaned against the classroom window, basking in the sun, gazing outside.
On a snowy, overcast day, there was a sketch of a melancholic, beautiful youth with his cheek propped on his hand, his face showing impatience.
Sometimes, when bored, the young man was drawn lying on the desk, asleep, with his arms under his head, his hands clearly defined, a few strands of soft hair resting on his fingers. The sketch was done in such a way that his hands appeared white against his darker hair, creating an irresistibly breathtaking allure.
Sometimes he was depicted studying, his short hair hanging down, half-covering his eyes, only the lower half of his face visible: his straight nose, slightly upturned lips, and resolute chin.
It was all him.
Although face-blind, the face he saw every day in the mirror was unmistakably his own, and he knew it too well.
As he continued flipping through the pages, he saw the thick, arched eyebrows, beautiful eyes, and long eyelashes that belonged to him.
There were also sketches of his head and hairstyle from various angles without showing the face.
And his hands—some resting on the desk, some holding a pen, others pinching an eraser, and some pressing down on book pages…
Further on, there were sketches of him ice skating, from different angles and in various poses…
Shen Mo didn’t realize that, as someone fond of beautiful things, seeing a handsome boy could be utterly irresistible.
He also didn’t understand that some artists are simply in pursuit of beauty, driven by the urge to document all things beautiful.
All he felt was his heartbeat accelerating, his cheeks heating up, the more he looked, the more he couldn’t contain himself.
Even for someone as self-admiring as him, accustomed to complimenting his own looks in the mirror, seeing a sketchbook filled entirely with images of himself made him blush and feel embarrassed.
What did it mean for her to secretly draw him, filling pages and pages with his sketches?
A young girl, just starting her first year of high school, should be focusing on her studies instead of drawing these useless things…
“Why aren’t you out playing basketball? Eh? What are you smiling at?” Suddenly, a loud voice interrupted, undoubtedly Yao Nan.
Shen Mo was startled, and as he looked up, Yao Nan had already leaned over Hua Jie’s desk, peering curiously.
“Wow, it’s all pictures of you, eh? Hua Jie drew these, right?” Yao Nan bellowed, reaching out as if he wanted to grab the sketchbook to take a closer look.
“Snap!” Shen Mo quickly pressed down on the sketchpad, closing it so that only the top blank paper was visible.
He wouldn’t let Yao Nan see.
“Let me have a look,” Yao Nan said with a teasing grin.
“Get lost, get lost, get lost.” Shen Mo sent him away with three dismissals, his face full of disdain and impatience.
“…” Yao Nan withdrew his hand from the sketchpad and met Shen Mo’s gaze.
He saw that although Shen Mo was shooing him away, there wasn’t much annoyance on his face; in fact, there seemed to be a blush on his cheeks.
“…” Annoyed and embarrassed by being observed, Shen Mo raised his fist, really ready to throw a punch.
Yao Nan then jumped back, dodging and scratching his face as he sauntered back to his own seat.
He began to chuckle as he walked.
“…” Shen Mo caught Yao Nan’s laugh.
He felt like committing murder, the kind that silences someone permanently.
But… Yao Nan had asked him what he was smiling about.
Did he… smile?
….
When Hua Jie arrived at school, the first period of self-study had already been underway for 15 minutes. As she knocked on the classroom door and took her seat, she noticed Shen Mo looking at her strangely.
“?” What’s up?
“Where did you go?” Shen Mo frowned, his expression one of displeasure, like a father upset his daughter went out on a date without telling him.
“Market research,” she replied truthfully.
“…” Shen Mo was momentarily stunned, what was that?
Then he watched as the girl unfolded her papers and began sketching her design drafts with a grid ruler and pencil.
For the next class period, Hua Jie was completely focused on her design drafts on the paper.
Gradually, a set of small, modular furniture took shape:
A TV cabinet, a coffee table, a simple vintage folding dining table, and a two-seater wooden sofa.
By the millennium, China’s domestic wealth had begun to grow, and although the small northern cities were still lagging, they were gradually reaching a considerable level of consumer spending.
People were starting to buy houses, renovate them, and furnish them with higher-end furniture, even opting for modular furniture sets.
At this time, the newly affluent people in the north didn’t prefer the minimalist or cold styles that would come later; they liked complexity and the old-school opulence reminiscent of the nouveau riche.
In short, they bought whatever furniture set looked the most like it belonged in a landlord’s home.
Therefore, Hua Jie’s designs also leaned towards a Chinese-style luxurious aesthetic, especially avoiding anything too simple or upscale. They needed to feature auspicious clouds, dragon and phoenix elements—how more earthy and lavish, the better.
Carvings and engravings were essential.
Cool black and white colors were out of the question; it had to be deep wood tones of purple and red.
The darker and more somber it looked in a room, the better.
If at a glance it resembled the set of a horror film, that was perfect.
Ideally, it would evoke the grandeur of a royal palace or noble estate, absolutely invincible.
The more Hua Jie designed, the more adept she felt, convinced she had grasped the aesthetic pulse of the newly wealthy in her small northern city.
She believed she could make it.
By the end of the class, she had finished her designs and carefully folded the drafts and tucked them into her backpack, satisfied with herself.
Yes!
The rest… depends on her dad’s craftsmanship!