In the early morning, everyone enjoyed a meal of naturally-cooked peanuts with skins, boiled sweet potatoes, boiled corn, steamed potatoes, steamed pumpkins, minced meat with tofu brains, millet porridge, small wontons, date cakes, sticky rice cakes, and large buns…
It was a rich and hearty meal, and Hua Jie ate joyfully.
Only after her belly was full did she put down her chopsticks, sighing deeply, feeling that life was beautiful.
Without further ado, she started painting, perfectly in line with Shen Jiaru’s style.
The children, still in a food-induced stupor after eating, were stationed in front of the large glass window in the hall to sketch the landscape outside.
This was Hua Jie’s first attempt at watercolor plein air painting. Holding her paintbrush, she looked out the window and took a deep breath.
Qian Chong went to the trash bin to sharpen a pencil, and as he passed by her, noticing her staring out the window, he coolly asked her:
“Never done landscape painting before, huh?”
“Think you can handle it?”
“If not, maybe go back to your room and paint some tables, chairs, teapots, or something.”
“Don’t overestimate yourself~”
Hua Jie frowned slightly, not turning her head as she responded, “Did you buy a new fur coat or something, wanting to honor your grandfather?”
“…” Qian Chong paused briefly, only then realizing what she meant, and said angrily, “Are you asking for a beating?”
“Shen Mo is over there drinking hot milk, do you want to go spar with him?” Hua Jie turned her head, raising her eyebrows at Qian Chong.
“…” Grinding his teeth, Qian Chong glanced at the long-legged youth sitting on the sofa in the hall, legs crossed, sipping a hot drink while reading a book, and finally decided not to continue arguing with Hua Jie. He stormed back to his seat to continue drawing.
Two meters away, Fang Shaojun turned her head to stare at Hua Jie, pursed her lips, then silently withdrew her gaze, paused for a while, and then secretly glanced at the black-clad youth sitting in the hall.
Only when Shen Jiaru came back with the teapot did she quietly look back out at the landscape.
Taking a deep breath, she abandoned the pencil, directly dipping her brush in a warm brown base.
As she began outlining the snowy landscape, she stared out at the scenery for a while, her brush unconsciously dipping into red, mixing with white, adding a touch of pink.
Like her mood, like the colors that clouded her mind every time she stealthily observed Shen Mo.
After a while, Shen Mo, tired of reading, walked over leisurely like an old man walking a bird.
He ignored the other three students, heading straight for the only one with her painting board laid flat—Hua Jie. Standing behind her, he spoke softly:
“Is painting fun?”
“Of course, it’s human nature to enjoy playing with water. You see, in the process of painting, I get to have all the fun.” Saying this, Hua Jie plunged her brush into a large bucket for rinsing, swishing it vigorously until it was clean, then pinched the bristles to squeeze out the soaked water before starting to mix her paints.
After dipping the brush in paint, she stirred it on the palette, mixing and dipping in water as needed.
It was indeed like playing with water.
Shen Mo’s interest was piqued.
However, looking around and considering that if he were to try painting, he would inevitably need Zhao Xiaolei’s help to gather a bunch of materials and then sit down to paint alongside four genius apprentices, the comparisons would be harsh and he might even face mocking jibes from his own father.
He pursed his lips and swiftly abandoned this ill-timed idea.
“If I want to play with water, wouldn’t it be nicer to go to a hot spring? Why bother with painting?” he said as he kicked her stool, “Are you trying to trick me into painting an ugly picture and then laugh at me? Like the snake in the Garden of Eden tempting Eve to eat the apple?”
“Wow! Your mind is really dark, isn’t it? I just said painting is fun, and you turn it into me being some evil and terrifying demon? Could you please be a bit more polite to your classmate, Shen Mo?” Hua Jie glanced back at him.
He didn’t just elevate the issue to her being the demon-snake from religious stories, but he also kicked her stool!
So mean~!
Morning light streamed through the window, falling on the girl’s face, making her complexion appear even more tender and pale, as if a soft glow enveloped her skin.
Standing behind her, he could also clearly see the fine, soft fuzz on her cheeks.
The boy quickly shifted his gaze outside the window, straightened up, and took a deep breath.
When he exhaled, he resumed his usual indifferent demeanor. He wanted to say something to Hua Jie, but suddenly felt that saying even one more word might reveal some hidden, nervous, and even fearful emotions.
Thus, he said nothing and turned to walk away.
Hua Jie glanced at his retreating figure, oblivious to anything amiss, and continued painting.
Sitting two meters to her right, Fang Shaojun covered the area she had just painted pink with a layer of cold blue, abruptly changing the originally warm and soft style of the painting to something chilly.
…
When Shen Jiaru called for a break, he casually looked over the paintings.
He finally stopped in front of Hua Jie’s.
He alternated between looking down at the painting and up at the landscape, his expression inscrutable.
Hua Jie had just poured herself a glass of water and was gulping it down when, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Lu Yunfei still sitting and painting about seven or eight meters away from her.
She walked up behind him and asked:
“Are you not taking a break? You could stand up and take a few steps back to get an overall view of your painting.”
“…” Lu Yunfei looked up to see it was Hua Jie, and without a word, but amicably, he stood up, glanced at her, and then stepped back a few paces to stand beside her, both of them examining his painting.
After a quiet moment, Lu Yunfei unexpectedly initiated conversation:
“Do you think… it’s okay?”
“It’s more than okay, you’ve captured more details than I did, there’s a refined beauty to it,” Hua Jie exclaimed.
“…” Lu Yunfei pursed his lips, his mouth corners secretly curling up, then he bashfully lowered his head.
The two chatted idly around Lu Yunfei’s painting for a bit.
As Hua Jie was about to return to her seat, Lu Yunfei suddenly pulled something out of his pocket and stuffed it into her hand quickly, leaving a low “Thank you for all the guidance you gave me on painting before,” and then he hurried back to his seat.
By the time Hua Jie realized what was in her hand, Lu Yunfei was already back at his seat, continuing to paint.
“…”
His speed in giving gifts was almost like a UFO zipping past.
It was the kind of speed where you don’t even have time to pull out your phone for a photo before the UFO has disappeared.
Hua Jie opened her palm to see a very small box.
Inside, there was a lipstick with Japanese writing on it—probably a small souvenir his family brought back from Japan that he decided to give to her.
Just feeling her lips were dry, she tore open the packaging and applied it directly.
Moisturizing, with a scent of orange, she liked it very much.
The girl’s smile widened, her lips curving up with a moist shine, looking exceptionally plump and rosy.
She walked back to Lu Yunfei and whispered, “Thank you.”
“…Mm,” the boy didn’t look up, just murmured a response.
After Hua Jie walked away, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
This little item had been in his pocket for a month, fortunately it was cold, otherwise it might have melted.
Every time he saw her, he thought about giving it to her, but he never found the right moment to speak up and hand it over…
His goal had been just to give it away sometime this year, but unexpectedly, he managed to do it today.
Sigh…
As Hua Jie walked back with her cup of water, Shen Jiaru finally shifted his gaze away from her painting.
He caught the eye of the girl approaching him, and when she sweetly greeted him, he almost spoke, but then swallowed his words.
He would wait, wait until she finished her painting to talk.
Or… maybe find a moment to talk to her alone…
…
…
Hua Jie painted a frigid Ergun, a cold icy river, frosty rime, and distant mountains shrouded in chilly morning mist.
She only added a light layer of warm colors to the sunlit snow surfaces and fine details, enriching the cold and warm contrast in the painting.
During the critique session, the classmates were still straightforward with each other.
Shen Jiaru guided each student, asking them to reflect it in their next painting, yet he only looked at Hua Jie’s painting without giving any specific feedback.
During the break, Hua Jie stared at her painting for a long time, unable to pinpoint any major issues or areas for improvement.
She was somewhat puzzled as to why Teacher Shen hadn’t said a word.
But from his expression, it certainly wasn’t because her painting lacked room for improvement.
Could it be that she had hit a plateau? Had she reached a point where even Teacher Shen found it hard to articulate?
She was a bit worried.
After the break, Shen Jiaru glanced at his son, who was standing by the window basking in the sun and daydreaming with a book in hand:
“Shen Mo.”
“?” The young man turned around, his face and profile bathed in the increasingly warm sunlight, looking indescribably handsome.
“You didn’t come here for nothing, come sit for an hour,” Shen Jiaru beckoned.
“…Can I refuse?” Shen Mo frowned, he was here for a vacation, not to work for his father.
“Just one hour,” Shen Jiaru negotiated.
“…” Shen Mo ultimately didn’t refuse his father’s request and reluctantly walked over to sit on the chair Shen Jiaru had prepared.
The young man sat at the edge of the bed, bathed in Rembrandt lighting.
Shen Mo scanned the room, his gaze passing over the other three boys who held no presence for him, finally resting on the beautiful and charming Hua Jie, and he said:
“Sit across from me.”
“…” Qian Chong, who was about to sit directly in front of Shen Mo, stiffened his movements, hesitating for a few seconds before silently moving back a meter.
As it approached noon, the light began to warm, and the colors of the scenery outside the window shifted dramatically.
Hua Jie obediently sat directly opposite Shen Mo, gazing at his face, perfectly illuminated by Rembrandt lighting.
Although Hua Jie hadn’t painted many live portraits, each one she had done was executed with great seriousness, including the previous ones of Shen Mo and his father working as carpenters, which she considered quite good.
However solid her technique was, she still felt she hadn’t reached a level of effortless mastery. She found her use of many techniques to be somewhat rigid.
After observing Shen Mo’s face for a while, she carefully analyzed the window behind him and the scenery outside. She began to ponder how to paint this scene, how to handle the foreground and the background.
How to blend the figure with the landscape, what to focus on and what to omit.
Her mind was filled with numerous masterpieces from later generations and many famous paintings from past artists, but finding the right approach for the character and landscape in front of her was not easy.
She sat straight for quite a while before she began to paint.
She couldn’t say she was completely confident and composed, but she had begun to form some ideas.
Shen Jiaru not commenting on her last painting had invisibly placed a great deal of pressure on her; this painting was clearly not as smooth and free as the previous one.
When drafting with the pencil, Hua Jie erased all the interior still life on the side of Shen Mo near the window, including the window itself.
She blurred the boundaries between Shen Mo’s body and the snowy landscape outside, making the young man reading seem to merge into the snow, as if he were sitting in the wilderness.
The interior decoration on the side away from the light was detailed further.
She planned to leave the highlights on the brighter parts of the young man mostly blank, letting him flow into nature, while meticulously outlining the details of the darker side, anchoring him firmly in the room.
Then, she silently named the painting in her mind, calling it “Youth in the Snow,” instead of a boy sitting indoors.
After envisioning the final appearance, Hua Jie outlined the painting with pencil, and then began to paint.
The actual result would surely differ from her initial vision, but that unpredictability is what makes painting so enchanting. During the process of painting, surprises are bound to emerge.
It’s as if the brush, the paint, and the paper possess their own lives, able to create unique strokes, colors, shapes, and effects on their own.
Gradually, Hua Jie began to immerse herself in the process.
While laying down the background, she stood up the painting board, allowing the colors to flow downward along the watermarks, creating unique shapes on their own.
Watching the paint leave different shapes and effects on the unevenly damp paper, she couldn’t help but smile.
Shen Mo, lounging with his legs crossed, felt a bit bored after reading for a while. He looked up and saw the little “potato” he had asked to sit in front of him.
The girl didn’t seem to know what she had painted, looking as delighted as a little dog that had sneakily eaten a bun. Her eyes crinkled up, her mouth curved in a smile, showing off a few small white teeth.
He tried to see her painting, but the reflection made it unclear.
Pursing his lips, he picked up his book, “One Hundred Years of Solitude,” which he had read more than twice. Each time, he found new insights and thought it incredibly interesting.
The sunlight was a bit harsh on his face, so he grabbed a water bottle beside him and took a sip before suddenly asking the girl in front of him:
“Hua Jie, do you know what someone who had never seen or heard of ice said the first time they touched it?”
“…” The girl, immersed in her watercolor world, looked up puzzledly for a moment before replying, “Ask what this is?”
“No,” Shen Mo stared at her and continued, “Think again.”
“Real ice?” guessed Hua Jie.
“No,” Shen Mo shook his head.
“Ah! My hand!” Hua Jie mimicked what someone touching ice for the first time might say.
“…” Shen Mo’s mouth twitched slightly in amusement, then he pressed it back, “Wrong, do you admit you’re a bit silly?”
“…” Qian Chong rolled his eyes secretly. Doesn’t anyone manage these two?
They really seemed to be excluding everyone else, treating them like air!
Teacher Shen, are you really not seeing this?
Are these two not in a relationship?
Really not?
Then why did he feel like he just got shown up???
“Stop beating around the bush, just tell me the answer!” Hua Jie demanded, raising her eyebrows.
“They said ‘it burns’,” he replied, then shook the book in his hand, “When Colonel Aureliano Buendía was a child and first saw ice, he touched it after paying for it and said that.”
This was one of his favorite scenes from “One Hundred Years of Solitude.”
Hua Jie paused, her eyes gradually narrowing and lips curling into a smile.
It was the kind of expression a child shows when they hear a fascinating story.