On the 11th of March, Ji Fanyin met up with Bai Zhou.
The two of them spent the entire day in an art studio.
Bai Zhou was fond of drawing, and he was talented in it as well. But today, reminiscent of a writer who had encountered a writer’s block, he looked agonized standing in front of the canvas, tearing off draft after draft of unsatisfactory work.
It was a long time before he managed to draft something he was barely satisfied with.
A faint smile finally lit up his gloomy face. His movements became much smoother as he proceeded to color the canvas and refine the details. It was as if he had finally managed to grasp hold of the fleeting spark of inspiration after rampaging for an entire day.
Ji Fanyin was curious to see what he had drawn, but Bai Zhou immediately wrapped his arms around the canvas, as if he was protecting some sort of treasure. “No peeping!”
“I’ll just take a quick look.”
“Not even a quick look!” Bai Zhou refused to let go of his canvas. His face had also started to turn red. “Why don’t you go look into the mirror instead? You can see it all you want!”
His words were still jarring, but his attitude and choice of words were much more amicable than before. Even if just slightly, he was learning how to respect others through his interactions with Ji Fanyin.
“Alright, I won’t look.” Ji Fanyin glanced at her watch and asked him, “Are you done with the painting?”
“Ji Fanyin, you aren’t off work yet!” Bai Zhou seemed to have some sort of trauma toward that action of hers. He immediately issued a warning, “Don’t even think about returning home early today. Go back to your seat!”
Ji Fanyin chose not to argue with him on this. She returned to her seat to idle away the last few minutes before she got off work.
Bai Zhou waited until Ji Fanyin had turned around and walked away before finally releasing the canvas from his embrace. He slowly leaned backward to look at the person he had drawn in his oil painting.
The background of the portrait wasn’t the art studio, and the woman in the portrait wasn’t sitting on a little stool either. There was no sense of distance between the woman and the painter through the portrait.
The perspective taken by the portrait made it look as if the artist was sitting right next to the woman, studying her features intently as he painted them down onto his canvas. Warm sunlight shone in her face, mellowing down her features while dyeing her in a layer of faint gold.
Strangely, Bai Zhou hadn’t added facial features to the woman in the canvas yet.
He clearly remembered the conversation he had with Ji Fanyin that day by the Aegean Sea, as well as her slightly curled lips when she made a wish to the rising sun by the sea horizon.
She wished that he could smile as he did as a child.
But if he chose to repaint that scene, its significance would be no more than the neoprints he had carefully stowed away in his wallet. It would be nothing more than an empty mirage, an illusion he was persistently holding onto.
He didn’t want the concern of a non-existent girlfriend he had fabricated for himself. What he wanted was Ji Fanyin’s real concern.
But he didn’t dare say it.
He couldn’t pretend that nothing had happened after everything he had done to Ji Fanyin.
He also couldn’t admit that his feelings had moved on when he had confessed to Ji Fanyin when she was playing the role of Ji Xinxin. Unlike Song Shiyu, he still had a sense of shame.
But more importantly, he was afraid that Ji Fanyin would sever all relationships with him, just like what she had done with Song Shiyu.
He would rather maintain the status quo.
Even when they left the art studio at 9 PM, the woman in the portrait still had a blank face.
To ensure that Ji Fanyin was unable to see the content of the portrait, he carefully entrusted it to a staff member of the art studio, requesting for it to be kept private.
On the 11th of March, Ji Fanyin met up with Bai Zhou.
The two of them spent the entire day in an art studio.
Bai Zhou was fond of drawing, and he was talented in it as well. But today, reminiscent of a writer who had encountered a writer’s block, he looked agonized standing in front of the canvas, tearing off draft after draft of unsatisfactory work.
It was a long time before he managed to draft something he was barely satisfied with.
A faint smile finally lit up his gloomy face. His movements became much smoother as he proceeded to color the canvas and refine the details. It was as if he had finally managed to grasp hold of the fleeting spark of inspiration after rampaging for an entire day.
Ji Fanyin was curious to see what he had drawn, but Bai Zhou immediately wrapped his arms around the canvas, as if he was protecting some sort of treasure. “No peeping!”
“I’ll just take a quick look.”
“Not even a quick look!” Bai Zhou refused to let go of his canvas. His face had also started to turn red. “Why don’t you go look into the mirror instead? You can see it all you want!”
His words were still jarring, but his attitude and choice of words were much more amicable than before. Even if just slightly, he was learning how to respect others through his interactions with Ji Fanyin.
“Alright, I won’t look.” Ji Fanyin glanced at her watch and asked him, “Are you done with the painting?”
“Ji Fanyin, you aren’t off work yet!” Bai Zhou seemed to have some sort of trauma toward that action of hers. He immediately issued a warning, “Don’t even think about returning home early today. Go back to your seat!”
Ji Fanyin chose not to argue with him on this. She returned to her seat to idle away the last few minutes before she got off work.
Bai Zhou waited until Ji Fanyin had turned around and walked away before finally releasing the canvas from his embrace. He slowly leaned backward to look at the person he had drawn in his oil painting.
The background of the portrait wasn’t the art studio, and the woman in the portrait wasn’t sitting on a little stool either. There was no sense of distance between the woman and the painter through the portrait.
The perspective taken by the portrait made it look as if the artist was sitting right next to the woman, studying her features intently as he painted them down onto his canvas. Warm sunlight shone in her face, mellowing down her features while dyeing her in a layer of faint gold.
Strangely, Bai Zhou hadn’t added facial features to the woman in the canvas yet.
He clearly remembered the conversation he had with Ji Fanyin that day by the Aegean Sea, as well as her slightly curled lips when she made a wish to the rising sun by the sea horizon.
She wished that he could smile as he did as a child.
But if he chose to repaint that scene, its significance would be no more than the neoprints he had carefully stowed away in his wallet. It would be nothing more than an empty mirage, an illusion he was persistently holding onto.
He didn’t want the concern of a non-existent girlfriend he had fabricated for himself. What he wanted was Ji Fanyin’s real concern.
But he didn’t dare say it.
He couldn’t pretend that nothing had happened after everything he had done to Ji Fanyin.
He also couldn’t admit that his feelings had moved on when he had confessed to Ji Fanyin when she was playing the role of Ji Xinxin. Unlike Song Shiyu, he still had a sense of shame.
But more importantly, he was afraid that Ji Fanyin would sever all relationships with him, just like what she had done with Song Shiyu.
He would rather maintain the status quo.
Even when they left the art studio at 9 PM, the woman in the portrait still had a blank face.
To ensure that Ji Fanyin was unable to see the content of the portrait, he carefully entrusted it to a staff member of the art studio, requesting for it to be kept private.
