Youth is impetuous, and teenagers often lack judgment in the heat of the moment, yet are exceedingly capable of causing trouble.
Hua Jie stared at Bai Lu, giving her assessment:
Good at nothing but starting trouble—top of the class at that.
In her previous life, although Hua Jie was a homebody, she had been an online art instructor at a digital art school and often sparred with clients online, possessing considerable negotiation skills.
Now, faced with an offline confrontation, but only against two high school sophomore girls, all of Bai Lu’s reactions showed that she was nothing but a bully who was tough on the outside but weak inside, a real pushover. Hua Jie was no longer afraid.
As for Jing Nian, Hua Jie scoffed—just a defeated underling, hardly worth her notice.
Hua Jie stood between Bai Lu and Jing Nian, who both guarded her warily, ready to snatch the teaching stick from her hands at any moment.
Tang Yang unconsciously stepped to the side, letting Bai Lu shield her from Hua Jie to ensure she wouldn’t get hit by her.
Of course, Hua Jie had no intention of striking anyone with the stick. She glanced at Jing Nian’s painting, then at Tang Yang’s painting, which was ostentatiously displayed not far away.
She sneered, not bothering to hide her disdain.
Jing Nian thought the sneer was directed at him and his face turned ashen.
Bai Lu, previously subdued by Hua Jie’s demeanor, had now regained her composure. Even if it came to blows, she believed she wouldn’t be at a disadvantage, so she became arrogant again:
“What are you sneering at?”
Her eyes widened, filled with a threatening intent.
She was still fantasizing that perhaps Hua Jie would cower back to her old self, anxiously explaining that she just had a sore throat.
Everyone in the studio was watching the quarrel between Hua Jie and Bai Lu, but nobody noticed Shen Mo leaning against the door.
The young man crossed his long legs, leaning back lazily. Seeing Bai Lu about to act tough, he tapped his heel on the ground, as if considering stepping in to join the fray as ‘Hua Jie’s deskmate.’
But Hua Jie wasn’t intimidated. She glared at Bai Lu, stood up straighter making herself a notch taller than her opponent, her aura rising again.
“Art students from Second High aren’t so impressive after all. Lots of bluster, all talk and no substance,” Hua Jie taunted, tilting her chin up and stretching out her teaching stick towards Jing Nian’s painting:
“Looking at Jing Nian’s painting, his main issue is just that his skills aren’t polished enough, which he could certainly improve with diligent practice over the next three years.”
“But this painting by Tang Yang, the one you’ve been praising to the skies, Bai Lu… well, it’s a complete disaster.”
Saying this, Hua Jie stepped forward, extending the teaching stick towards Tang Yang’s painting.
“What are you saying?” This time, before Bai Lu could speak, Tang Yang was the one who panicked.
She raised her voice to question, only to realize she had lost her composure, yelling in such an unladylike manner that her face turned bright red. Under everyone’s gaze, she felt both angry and embarrassed, clenching her fists tightly and glaring at Hua Jie with gritted teeth.
Hua Jie slightly curved her lips, maintaining a calm and steady demeanor, exuding a commanding presence that was quite intimidating, almost as if she controlled the entire room.
Nobody knew that this was a poise she had developed from her experience as an online teacher.
Some of the girls couldn’t help but feel envious. Teenagers, sensitive and emotional, often appeared restrained and always admired the effortless authority of adults.
Shen Mo, who had been casually watching with his hands in his pockets, suddenly pulled them out and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his demeanor even more relaxed and nonchalant.
He had initially thought about stepping in to help his desk mate, the little “potato-head,” out of a sense of loyalty.
Now, seeing that she didn’t need any help, he was content to just enjoy the show.
“Are you deaf?” Hua Jie asked with a light smile, her voice not fierce, her retort casual yet nearly infuriating Tang Yang to death.
Seeing Tang Yang’s face turning pale, Bai Lu raised her hand to push Hua Jie.
Shen Mo’s brow furrowed as he straightened up, intending to enter the fray, but he saw someone else grabbing Bai Lu’s hand.
It was the young man standing by Hua Jie, referred to as Jing Nian.
Shen Mo’s frown deepened for a moment before slowly relaxing again, and he leaned back against the door.
“Stop the violence,” Jing Nian had initially felt constrained due to the unfamiliar environment but finally realized that Hua Jie was not suppressing him but, like him, was standing with their school to support him. Feeling a sudden camaraderie, he regained his high school swagger.
He grabbed Bai Lu’s wrist, flung it away, and took a step forward, tilting his head threateningly.
Bai Lu stiffened, her lips trembling slightly, clearly still unwilling to back down but, recognizing that Jing Nian was a boy with a higher “combat value,” she had to grit her teeth and hold back.
Hua Jie tilted her head and glanced at Jing Nian.
Jing Nian awkwardly looked away. Now, facing two despised girls from Second High, he was forced to align with Hua Jie, but that didn’t mean he was truly on her side or protecting her.
Holding the teaching stick, Hua Jie walked up to Tang Yang’s painting, her face devoid of the anger or wildness of an argument, calm and restrained, exuding a rational focus on the matter at hand.
She turned her head to look at Tang Yang and said earnestly yet bluntly:
“You are too obsessed with details. The other objects haven’t even reached their second layer of tones, and you’ve already overly darkened the apple.”
“Now, the apple does appear quite three-dimensional, but the darkest part of the whole painting is the shadow of the copper kettle. If your apple is already this dark, what are you going to do about the kettle’s shadow? Use charcoal? Or finish the painting and then erase the apple to redraw it?”
“If you go into an exam like this, even if the painting looks okay, a professional grading teacher can tell at a glance that you simply don’t have the ability to handle an entire painting. Each object is isolated, not set within a unified spatial environment. Even if individual objects are well-rendered in three dimensions, the overall painting lacks depth and clarity in its light and dark aspects.”
“It’s a mess.”
“The problem is less noticeable when painting still life, but if you were to paint portraits, that would really be a disaster. You don’t observe the whole picture, you don’t understand the light and shadow relationships of facial features. You depict what should be protruding as indented, and what should be indented as protruding. The figures you paint neither look human nor ghostly, and you still hope to get into a good art college?”
“Dream on!”
“Old habits die hard. With the way you paint, you’d better either change careers soon or resign yourself to being a third-rate painter for life.”
“Are you still proud?”
“With no aesthetic sense and oblivious to the shortcomings, it’s truly fatal.””
Hua Jie’s voice wasn’t the least bit fierce; she spoke as calmly as if she were commenting on the nice weather.
Yet, the more seriously she articulated her points, the more convincing she became, leaving Tang Yang feeling colder and more infuriated.
Meanwhile, the other students around them, upon hearing her, began murmuring in agreement or sudden realization, intensifying Tang Yang’s embarrassment to the point of almost wanting to vanish on the spot.
Bai Lu was completely stunned, gaping at Tang Yang’s painting and beginning to doubt its quality.
Was it really that bad?
Hua Jie felt utterly satisfied with her spirited rant.
Back when she was an online art teacher, considering that the students had paid for the class, she had to be more restrained and tactful to avoid scaring them away. But such straightforward and unrestrained criticism was truly liberating.
Ah, it turns out being this blunt is quite joyful.
It’s blissful to be such a critic.
Hua Jie relished her tirade, and Shen Mo, standing at the door watching the excitement, couldn’t help but break into a smile.
Talking about painting was a world apart from the “little potato doll-head” known at school.
In school, he tutored her academically. She was an exceedingly well-behaved poor student, humbly receptive, bewildered and goofy, speaking in a voice as meek as a kitten’s.
Yet standing in the middle of the studio, under the gaze of her fellow art students, her critiques of the paintings were confident and unrestrained.
Her eyes sparkled with a firm and intense light, making her slender figure appear taller—stemming from her indomitable presence.
This was Shen Mo’s first time witnessing a girl talk so passionately and authoritatively about something she excelled at, exuding power and charisma.
It inexplicably warmed his blood too.
The new desk mate in the still unfamiliar school became much more vivid and lively in his world.
When Zhang Xiangyang returned with two hot water bottles, he saw a handsome, unfamiliar young man leaning at the studio door, smiling intriguingly at someone inside the studio.
Just as he was about to greet him with Shen Mo’s catchphrase, “Who are you?”, he saw the students inside looking tense and ready for conflict. Forgetting about Shen Mo, he entered, placed the water bottles by the wall, and was about to restore order.
At that moment, Bai Lu loudly scolded Hua Jie:
“You—You don’t know anything!”
“Your painting isn’t even as good as Tang Yang’s. All you do is blabber nonsense. Do you dare to compare your painting with Tang Yang’s by flipping yours over?”
Awoken by Bai Lu’s shout, the other students suddenly realized.
Right, isn’t Hua Jie’s painting worse than Tang Yang’s?
Was this all just armchair strategy?
How could they have almost regarded Hua Jie as a master just from a few misleading words?
Feeling duped, the students looked at Hua Jie with complicated expressions.
Yet, there was not a trace of panic on Hua Jie’s face; she looked poised and confident.
She stretched out her slender arms and, without hesitation, bent over to flip her painting, which had been hanging on the side of her bench.
In the next instant, her painting came into view for everyone.
Zhang Xiangyang, who was about to intervene, closed his mouth, his lips pursed in silence as he stared at Hua Jie’s painting, forgetting what he was about to do.
The painting was… truly marvelous!