Chapter 06
It was evening and the last class in the studio had just ended.
The children were picked up by their parents one after another, and the studio gradually quieted down. Zou Ping packed up her palette and prepared to leave when she noticed a small figure in the corner, still motionless.
She walked over and saw that it was Mai Tian - the little girl who always had two pigtails and a bright smile.
"Mai Tian? Your parents haven't come to pick you up yet?" Zou Ping asked softly.
Mai Tian looked up at her, her eyes twinkling, and she bit her lip. "My brother is here to pick me up today, but he doesn't seem to be off work yet."
Zou Ping checked the time. It was nearly seven. It was already pitch black outside the window. Even the lights across the street were blurred by the rain, and a gray mist was billowing.
She took out her cell phone and dialed the parent contact number kept by the studio several times, but no one answered, so she had to give up.
"Then let's wait here." She squatted down and tidied up Mai Tian's messy hair, and said in a gentle voice.
Mai Tian nodded, returned to her drawing stool and sat down, her little hands wrapped around a colorful kite picture she had drawn two days ago, as if she was using that touch of brightness to comfort herself.
Zou Ping brought her a glass of warm water from the rest area and took out some biscuits from the drawer. The two, one adult and one child, sat quietly in the studio, as quiet as a gouache painting with blank space.
After a long time, the studio door was finally pushed open.
Zou Ping was about to stand up, but was slightly startled when he saw the face of the person who came.
The man who came was tall and slender, wearing a slightly wrinkled light gray windbreaker, with broad shoulders and long strides.
His features weren't delicate, but they held a certain raw toughness. His nose was straight, his eye sockets slightly deep, and his brows were drawn low, as if he were always lost in thought. The corners of his mouth slanted downwards naturally, giving him a hint of stubbornness and a touch of masculine weariness.
His temples were a little wet, perhaps because the rain had not been wiped away, or perhaps because the sweat from rushing to work had not yet dissipated.
He has a sense of relaxation, not the laziness of an urban idler, but a feeling like the wind blowing in the wild, clean, real, effortless, yet vaguely aggressive, which will make you want to pay attention to him involuntarily, even if he is not looking at you.
"I'm sorry I'm late." He nodded slightly at her, his voice low and gentle, "Thank you for taking care of my sister."
"You are... Mai Tian's brother?" Zou Ping asked with a responsible attitude.
"My name is Mai Sheng." He extended his hand and smiled politely. "I'm also the owner of 'Yuanweifang'. I wonder if you've heard of me."
Zou Ping shook his hand and nodded, "I've actually heard of it. It's that home-style restaurant that makes exquisite and delicious dishes."
The dishes were very exquisite, and the prices were… Zou Ping grumbled to herself, thinking that they were probably trying to take advantage of the rich, but she still maintained a respectful smile on her face.
"That's good. It seems you still have a presence. All these years of hard work have not been in vain." He smiled and looked her over inconspicuously. "We may have met before."
"Really? Probably not." Zou Ping thought carefully and felt that she had no recollection of him. If she had met someone like Mai Sheng, she thought, she probably wouldn't forget him.
"There was a problem in the restaurant today. A regular customer booked a banquet, but there was a sudden problem with the ingredients. I had to go and coordinate it in person, so I was late." Mai Sheng said, his tone a little helpless, but also sincere and apologetic.
As he spoke, he fished out his cell phone from his coat pocket and handed it to Zou Ping. "Leave me my number. Next time if I'm delayed again, just call me directly. I'll find a way to pick Tiantian up, so you don't have to wait here too."
"I didn't ask her to wait." Mai Tian quickly interrupted, pouting but her voice wasn't strong enough, "I can wait by myself."
Having said that, the little girl still leaned closer to her brother, as if to prove something. Her hand quietly grabbed the corner of Mai Sheng's clothes, and a smile appeared on her little face.
"Tiantian painted very well in the studio today." Zou Ping patted Mai Tian's shoulder and said to Mai Sheng, "I think she is a very talented child."
"Teacher Zou taught us about 'happy colors,'" Mai Tian said proudly. "I drew a flying moon that flew up to the sky to find the sun. I also drew a kite. I love flying kites. It's really fun."
Mai Sheng laughed and turned to Zou Ping, "I heard that you teach very carefully and the children all like you."
"Just try your best." She smiled, there was no pride in her tone, only a hint of fatigue that could not be hidden.
Mai Sheng noticed the weariness in her eyes and spoke in a gentler voice, "Would you like to come to our restaurant someday? I'm sorry for taking up your time today, I should treat you to a meal."
Zou Ping hesitated and was about to decline, but Mai Tian joined in the fun. She nodded vigorously, ran to Zou Ping's side, and put her arms around her. "Teacher Zou, you must come. My brother cooks delicious food. Braised lion's head and sweet and sour fish are the best!"
She couldn't help but smile and nodded: "Then...if there is a chance, definitely."
"I've definitely seen you before. No, I should say I've seen your paintings and photos. Did you...did you once paint an oil painting called 'Red'?"
Zou Ping's fingertips suddenly tightened, as if someone had touched upon something in her past that she didn't want to be revealed again.
"Have you seen that painting?" Her voice was a little unnatural.
"Yeah." Mai Sheng nodded, his eyes darkening slightly as if he were reminiscing. "It was at the Academy of Fine Arts' Young Artists' Oil Painting Exhibition that year. I was thinking about something and happened to be passing by the exhibition hall, but I was captivated by that painting. Your work was prominently displayed at the entrance. That painting left a deep impression on me... The emotion was so intense, the whole space seemed to be filled with that oppressive energy."
"That was... a long time ago." She said lightly, lowering her head and gently stroking Mai Tian's hair, as if trying to hide something.
Mai Sheng didn't ask any more questions, but just smiled softly: "It wasn't that long. Besides, that painting, even just that one, is enough to make people remember you."
His tone was calm and firm, without any flattery, but with a kind of sincere recognition.
The painting was created when she was in her junior year of college. Zou Ping's mind instantly emerged with the familiar painting, the cool vermilion, the closed window and the girl sitting with her knees hugged under the window - it was her work in the winter of her junior year, and it was also her loneliest and most powerful expression.
She didn't expect that someone still remembered the painting "Red".
That year, she won the provincial art award for the first time and thought that everything would go smoothly from then on. However, she didn't expect that the peak would become the starting point, and no work of hers could surpass the weight of "Red".
"Many people think that painting expresses anger or repression," Mai Sheng continued, his tone calm but firm, "but I don't think so. That red... isn't burning, it's enduring."
He paused and said softly, "It's like blood is trapped under the skin, holding it back and not daring to flow out."
Zou Ping's throat suddenly tightened.
That winter, she often sat alone by the window in her dorm, painting from afternoon until dusk, forgetting even whether she had eaten. The girl in her painting was actually herself, but no one asked, nor cared, about the origin of the red. Some praised her bold use of color, others criticized her immature composition, and some even thought the window's perspective was flawed.
Many people have said, "I understand it." But no one has ever made Zou Ping feel that they truly understand.
However, Zou Ping's attitude has always been that it doesn't matter. As for the work, the moment it is painted, it is there.
There are a thousand "Hamlets" in the eyes of a thousand readers, and naturally there are a thousand "Red" in the eyes of a thousand viewers.
Why do you force others to understand your work?
But when someone actually sees your work and senses your true inner expression, the feeling is still different, Zou Ping has to admit. She never expected that the person who remembered her paintings was actually a passerby, and that person remembered them for years.
"Have you studied art?" she asked.
"No, I studied cooking." Mai Sheng smiled, "But when I was a kid, I wanted to learn painting. But then it got too expensive, and I'm not one to sit still, so I gave up."
"Then you remember it so clearly."
"Maybe it's because I rarely see red like this." He paused. "Many people paint red and turn it into a symbol of emotion, but the red you paint is like the truth beneath the skin. It's not explosive or noisy, but it makes people afraid to look at it for too long."
Zou Ping didn't say anything, but just lowered her eyes, as if she was afraid that her eyes would reveal some kind of too fragile response.
At that moment, she even wanted to run away.
Mai Sheng had already lowered his head to adjust his sister's shoulder straps. He seemed to sense that she was not in the right mood, and his tone was noticeably lighter than before: "Is the painting still there?"
Zou Ping shook her head. "It's already been sold. I was really short of money at the time, and I sold it for 160,000 yuan, which was a huge price for me...but most of the money was taken by my parents."
Mai Sheng looked at her with a smile and said gently, "Your work doesn't have to be hung on the wall. What matters is that it's in your heart. What you create is your creation, and no one can take that power away."
After he finished speaking, he pulled Mai Tian's hand and said, "We're leaving first. I'll treat you to dinner another day as compensation for being late today."
With that, he led Mai Tian out of the studio. The night breeze blew away the dampness, and Zou Ping suddenly realized that the world was far more vast than she had imagined. Some recognition doesn't necessarily come from awards; some warmth doesn't necessarily come from protection.
Zou Ping sat in the studio for a long time, the words still echoing in her mind: "The red you paint is like the truth beneath the skin."
She never thought that someone would describe her paintings like this.
This was a long-lost feeling. Someone happened to have seen her painting and appreciated it. It was not the routine of the judges, nor was it Tang Yuchuan's ambiguity. It made her heart feel a little warm.
She turned off the lights in the studio and looked back. The painting "Flying Moon" left by Mai Tian was still on the easel.
She recalled the time when she painted "Red". No matter how bad her life was at that time, her heart for painting was pure. All her patience and unwillingness were poured onto the canvas one stroke at a time.
She recalled the countless struggles she had faced while painting after the painting "Red". She had obviously chosen her subject more carefully, her composition more complex, and her technique more mature, but it was always like there was a layer of fog between them. Her emotions were surging, but they could not reach the tip of her brush - the more she wanted to grasp something, the more she couldn't paint it.
Zou Ping sat in the studio, looking at the "Flying Moon" painted by Mai Tian, feeling a little complicated.
Teaching students was just a temporary solution at first. She really just wanted to find a job because she didn't want to rely on Tang Yuchuan for life. She wanted her feelings to be pure without money.
But tonight, Mai Sheng's words, "The work doesn't have to be hung on the wall, what matters is that it is in your heart," echoed in her mind, like a thin thread gently pulling something.
The flying moon in Mai Tian's painting was like a glimmer of light, lighting up a long-lost place in her heart. It made her see what free creative expression looked like. She had experienced this state before, but now she may have forgotten it.
The children's eyes were pure, yet full of expectation and trust, which made Zou Ping feel a sense of secure happiness.
Maybe, I can continue doing this job... Zou Ping thought secretly.
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