Chapter 68 P - Passion

Chu Beiling squatted on the rooftop railing, cupped his face in his hands, and burst into tears. After crying for a while, he felt that he was being a bit embarrassing, and soon he started laughing again.

He was sobbing and laughing at the same time, not even knowing whether he was crying or laughing.

He's under immense pressure. People around him have high expectations of him, hoping he can be even better, stronger, and improve his grades so he can win the provincial top scorer next year.

Young Master Chu has high expectations of himself, but he really can't achieve the title of top provincial scorer.

For the past two weeks, the intensity has been very high every day, with the need to ensure both quality and quantity.

Chu Beiling belongs to the former type who prioritizes quality. He pays great attention to the visual effects and lighting. Although he works quickly, he can't keep up with the high-intensity deadlines. The young master is also very picky. If he finds even the slightest flaw in any of the paintings, he will go crazy.

However, a certain quantity must be met.

It's really too difficult to balance the two.

Ms. Li questioned him about whether he hadn't put in the effort, and he felt he had already done his best, but the result wasn't so good.

Sometimes he doubts himself, wondering if he's not good enough, if he hasn't put in enough effort or used the right methods, otherwise why are others moving forward while he's stuck in the same place.

Others can increase speed while maintaining quality, so why can't he?!

I also think about it and repeatedly ask myself:

Is his persistence truly meaningful? Is he really suited to painting and pursuing an artistic path?

This painful and distressing feeling was like an abyss that dragged him in.

suddenly--

A pair of cold hands grabbed his arm and pulled him off the rooftop railing. As he fell, Xing Yu caught him in his arms, half-squatting down and holding him tightly in his embrace.

The familiar lemon scent wafted over, and the still-startled young master looked up: "Xing, Xing Yu, what, what are you doing?!"

Xing Yu looked down at the person in his arms. Because he had just cried, Chu Beiling's eyes were filled with tears, and a scarlet hue appeared at the corners of her eyes, like red rose juice dappled onto the corners of her eyes, shimmering yet broken.

Xing Yu's Adam's apple bobbed. Although he was angry, he couldn't bring himself to yell at him, but his voice was several degrees colder than when he spoke to him before: "What were you doing just now?"

Chu Beiling stubbornly wiped away her tears, pretending to be nonchalant: "No, nothing's wrong, I just came up to enjoy the scenery."

Xing Yu was both worried and angry. He gripped Xing Yu's wrist tightly, as if afraid that if he let go, he would never be able to hold on to him again: "Do we need to climb up the rooftop railing to see the scenery?"

Chu Beiling retorted, "So, it's like looking down on all the mountains from a high vantage point."

Xing Yu glanced at him and said, "You think you can recite ancient poems? What if you accidentally fall down?"

Chu Beiling opened her mouth, about to retort, but he cut her off: "Don't tell me you know what's going on. Standing on the rooftop is dangerous, and even if you know what's going on, it's still not okay."

Xing Yu's gaze was intense as he said, word by word, "Absolutely not."

"It's really nothing..." Xing Yu's lips trembled, and his eyes reddened instantly. Chu Beiling couldn't finish her sentence.

"What will I do if you accidentally fall?" Xing Yu tightened his grip even more.

His voice trembled violently as he lowered it, showing how frightened Xing Yu was. Young Master Chu couldn't bear to see him upset, so he admitted his mistake: "I know, I won't do it again next time."

Xing Yu was very strong. If Chu Beiling didn't know that he wouldn't hurt himself, he would have suspected that Xing Yu intended to break his wrist.

He moved his wrist and said to Xing Yu, "Let go of me first, my wrist hurts a little."

Xing Yu stared straight at him: "Are you sure it won't happen?"

A gentle breeze blew by, and the stray hairs on their foreheads were reflected in the sunset. The wind was so gentle, and the sunset was just as gentle. Chu Beiling had the illusion that he was immersed in hot water, and his whole body felt hot, turning as red as the sunset.

Chu Beiling saw his image reflected in her eyes, her heart skipped a beat, and her Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily: "Hmm, not anymore."

Xing Yu nodded in satisfaction, released the restraints, and then lowered his eyes. Chu Beiling followed his gaze.

Only then did he realize that he was lying in Xing Yu's arms, one hand gripping his collar tightly, so tightly that he had pulled off most of his windbreaker.

The winter wind was biting cold, and Xing Yu's sunken, exposed collarbone skin was frozen red.

Chu Beiling quickly let go of his hand, sat up, and pulled up his collar. The young master scratched his nose awkwardly: "You, why didn't you say anything?"

Xing Yu stood up and extended his hand to him, and Chu Beiling naturally took his hand.

Xing Yu gripped Chu Beiling's palm tightly and pulled him up from the ground. He rubbed his fingertips against Chu Beiling's tiger's mouth before slowly letting go.

Xing Yu said, "I was so angry with you just now that I didn't notice."

Young Master Chu stuck out his tongue and changed the subject: "Why did you come here?"

"Come here and give me some candy." Xing Yu handed over two lollipops, one strawberry flavored and one blueberry flavored.

Chu Beiling picked up the blueberry-flavored one and left the strawberry-flavored one for him.

They developed a tacit understanding at some point, and when they knew the other was in a bad mood, they would take out two lollipops.

Each of them had one.

Young Master Chu tore open the packaging and put it in his mouth, the sweet taste filling his mouth.

The worst feeling of stress has passed.

Looking at the fiery red sunset that painted the sky, Chu Beiling said, "I thought I could support myself on the path of art with my passion, and I also thought that although I am not the best, I am definitely not bad. After coming to the training base, I found out... I am really trash. I don't have the physical strength and endurance to withstand high-intensity training, and my speed and progress are not as fast or obvious as others."

Chu Beiling's grades were always among the best, just like at Xigao High School. But what good was being among the best? He didn't improve at all; in fact, his grades dropped. At Xigao High School, his score never fell below 280.

At the training base, his scores hovered around 270, and there were two people ahead of him who scored 275 and 280.

Art scores are divided into different tiers every 5 points. In particular, the 90-95 range requires near-perfection in composition, form, color, technique, and creativity. Even a small flaw can result in points being deducted and the score being moved to another tier.

Anyone who scores above 90 points possesses both talent and hard work. The competition among them is fierce. At this point, it's not about who has better skills or aesthetic sense, but about physical strength, endurance, and mindset.

At the training base, top art students from across the province and even the country practice like crazy in order to get into art academies; no one dares to slack off.

Scores don't represent everything; even the instructors at the training base sometimes lower scores, so they shouldn't be the standard.

But he couldn't deceive himself by lowering his score, telling himself that it didn't matter. Chu Beiling knew that the intense training over the past two weeks had been crucial.

He made no progress or improvement; in fact, he regressed. Chu Beiling simply couldn't find a way to break through.

This state of mind made him doubt for the first time in many years whether he was suited to painting.

More than doubt, he was afraid that he would lose his love for painting.

as well as--

"Xing Yu, do you know, many people in the class, including Ruan Dao, say I have talent, but I've never thought of myself as a talented person. It's not out of inferiority or humility to show off, but because I genuinely believe that there are so many amazing masters and practitioners in this field, so many, so very many. Where am I compared to them?!"

Chu Beiling smiled and said, "But as soon as I say that my drawing is really bad and I can't continue, someone will jump out and tell me that I am already a master. As long as my academic and art grades are the same, I can choose any of the eight major art academies. I will show off my talent to them. If I say that, how can they live?"

Chu Beiling chewed on the lollipop in her mouth and continued, "I know they don't mean any harm, and they may even envy my talent, but my troubles and the problems I've encountered are real."

Xing Yu can understand this situation very well. He is not a talented person in painting, and he has come this far entirely through repeated practice.

But in music, from the beginning of his cello lessons, his teacher told him that he had perfect pitch and was a musically gifted person, while others could only practice relative pitch. He also often heard his cello classmates say: He is so good because he has perfect pitch.

Does having perfect pitch mean you don't need hundreds or thousands of hours of practice, and that you can just win without effort? Does it mean you won't have any troubles?

On the path of art, talent is never something to boast about. Like everyone else, it requires perseverance and repetitive, tedious practice day after day. Even those with talent are no exception.

However, precisely because of this so-called talent, others will have even higher expectations and demands of them, and they will be habitually overlooked for the pain and bottlenecks that everyone encounters, and they will be unable to avoid their intermittent lack of self-confidence.

Because you are talented, you should be able to do anything.

But art is never something that can be summed up in a single sentence, and no one can be omnipotent by doing nothing.

Xing Yu said, "As far as I know, the eight major art academies should not secretly issue VIP cards that allow exemption from entry or lower the requirements."

Chu Beiling glanced at him, and Xing Yu also looked over. The two of them burst out laughing.

To lighten the somber atmosphere, Xing Yu continued, "On the path of art, talent is the ticket, but to go far, you need passion and perseverance. There are never any shortcuts; it's all about quantitative change leading to qualitative change. A hundred times of giving up, one time of perseverance—it's always a lonely journey. Most people only look at the results, not the process, and no one cares how many times we practiced. A casual remark about having talent can cover up all our efforts and perseverance."

But none of that matters, and the outcome doesn't matter. In the world of art, we live authentically; we can express ourselves truthfully. This is a freedom that so-called worldly success cannot buy.

Chu Beiling raised an eyebrow, revealing two snow-white tiger teeth: "On this point, great minds think alike."

On the path of art, talent determines the starting point, passion determines the direction, and perseverance determines the destination.

If one day I lose my passion and am still stuck in the same place, that's perfectly fine. If one day I really lose everything, I can still keep going.

Xing Yu smiled and said, "So—there's no problem at all. Even if there is, it's only temporary. I believe you can do it."

Chu Beiling was taken aback for a moment, then smiled and nodded.

The two stood side by side on the rooftop, the wind ruffling their hair. In the distance, the lights of the bungalows gradually lit up, like scattered fishing lights guiding the way at sea.

The two boys looked at each other and smiled in the brilliant sunset.

After an unknown amount of time, Chu Beiling looked away from the distant fish and fire, and said somewhat awkwardly, "Let's go back. We've been out long enough. Let's finish our drawing and submit it quickly, and then go to the cafeteria to grab food as soon as possible. Hopefully, Hang Qi and his gang will be a little slower in grabbing food and leave some for us."

Xing Yu raised an eyebrow: "You're willing to eat in the cafeteria now?"

Young Master Chu said with distress, "Although the food at the training base is not good, I don't want to continue eating the large portions of noodles, vegetables, eggs, and sausages. I've been eating these for almost half a month now, and I'm practically turning into noodles, vegetables, eggs, and sausages."

Not long after, the young master went crazy again, not reciting properly. Completely tone-deaf, he sang in a Tibetan accent: "I really want the big chicken leg from the second cafeteria~~~ Give me a Doraemon's Anywhere Door~ Let me open it, go have a meal, and come back, yarasoo ahhhhh~~"

Xing Yu suddenly reminded him, "It's noodles, vegetables, and eggs."

Chu Beiling turned and grabbed Xing Yu by the neck: "I'm going to kill you, and you still have the nerve to remind me that the name is wrong."

Xing Yu's lips curled slightly: "Also, stop singing. Please spare my ears; he needs a rest."

Chu Beiling pointed at him with dissatisfaction: "Alright, I declare that we're breaking off our friendship for half a minute."

Xing Yu: "It's a bit windy."

"It's a bit windy, didn't you hear me? It's okay, I'll make sure you can hear me." With that, Chu Beiling reached out and forcefully pulled Xing Yu's hair, then quickly ran away, not forgetting to turn back and taunt him: "Now you should hear me, right? If you can't hear me, come and fix it again!"

"..." Xing Yu lifted his leg and chased after him: "Stop."

Chu Beiling: "I'm not stupid, I don't want to."