7 07
◎07◎
The floodgates of memory are always opened when we least expect it.
Xu Jia stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of the hotel suite.
A few hours ago, Lin Ruoyin's tired figure, running around trying to protect Lu Yan, was like a sharp thorn piercing his heart, which was filled with hatred, stirring up a twisted bitterness and jealousy.
He picked up his coat, turned around, and left the space filled with false warmth.
The driver silently took him to his destination.
Upon arriving at the private studio, the heavy door closed behind me.
The air was filled with the calming scent of solidified turpentine and flaxseed oil.
Every single one of them is of her.
His gaze, with a touch of self-torture, fell upon one of the paintings.
In the painting, Lin Ruoyin sits in his rented studio, head down, mixing colors. Her profile is soft, and sunlight streams through the window, casting a bright spot on her nose. Even the dust particles floating in the air are clearly visible.
His thoughts were gradually pulled back to the pure white summer before all the tragedies had begun.
***
Eight years ago, in late summer, at the National University of Arts.
"Ruoyin! Look over there! A new discovery!" Lin Ruoyin's best friend, Shen Yuqing, exaggeratedly grabbed her arm and excitedly pointed to the tree-lined path not far away.
Lin Ruoyin was feeling drowsy from a boring art history theory class when she heard this and lazily looked up.
The shadows of the sycamore trees swayed, dappled sunlight danced. A boy dressed in a simple white T-shirt and faded jeans leaned against a tree, head down, flipping through a thick sketchbook. He stood tall and straight, his eyes lowered, his profile remarkably clear and sharp in the dappled light.
"How about it? Handsome, right! Xu Jia from the oil painting department!" Shen Yuqing lowered her voice, her tone full of the joy of discovering a treasure. "I heard he has a cool personality and a lot of girls pursue him, but it seems like he only has his easel and sketchbook in his eyes."
Lin Ruoyin's gaze swept over the figure leaning against the tree, and she objectively commented, "He is quite handsome." Then, a slightly sarcastic smile appeared on her lips, "However, the more abstinent someone appears on the surface, the more promiscuous they are in private. Who knows how many girls they're chatting with on their phones at the same time."
Upon hearing this, Shen Yuqing immediately retorted, "Hey, Lin Ruoyin, you're just spouting nonsense! You can't condemn all men in the world just because you've met a few ugly ones, can you?"
Lin Ruoyin looked away and said nonchalantly, "Men are all the same."
Her unyielding attitude and pessimistic view of men completely ignited Shen Yuqing's competitive spirit. A plan formed in her mind, and with a hint of provocation, she took Lin Ruoyin's arm: "Dare to make a bet with me?"
"What are we betting on?"
“Let’s bet on whether all men are the same.” Shen Yuqing smiled like a sly little fox. “You go and get close to him first, then I’ll show up and see if he’ll waver.” She paused, her eyes sparkling. “If he slips up, you win. If he can withstand the test… hehe, then it proves that Miss Lin misjudged him this time.”
Lin Ruoyin immediately understood Shen Yuqing's intention.
The bet itself seemed childish, and she initially wanted to refuse, but then she thought that her current life was indeed quite boring.
"That sounds a bit boring," she said lazily, but the nonchalance in her eyes gradually faded. "What's the stake?"
“You win. I’ll lend you my brother’s rare set of original illustrations for the out-of-print ‘Rhodes Island’ for a month to admire.”
Lin Ruoyin's eyelashes trembled almost imperceptibly. Shen Yuqing's brother was a well-known collector in the industry, and she had long coveted that original manuscript.
Shen Yuqing's eyes lit up: "If I win, you have to lend me that vintage Chanel necklace that your dad just brought back from Paris for three months."
Lin Ruoyin hesitated for a moment before finally speaking: "Deal."
"Great!" Shen Yuqing exclaimed. "Then it's settled!"
...
At first, Xu Jia didn't pay much attention to the girl who frequently appeared in his field of vision.
The best lighting was from the window seat on the third floor of the library, where he used to capture light and shadow with his charcoal pencil. But starting from some afternoon, the same girl would always occupy the seat opposite him.
He left only a vague impression when he first looked up: flowing black hair, a focused, lowered profile, and the hardcover cover of the book "Jacqueline Kane's Jewelry Lines" beside him. That was all.
On the third attempt, as he focused on sketching the brow bone shadow of a portrait, a subtle sense of being watched pulled him from his immersion. He looked up and caught the gaze that hadn't quite withdrawn from his eyes. She was resting her chin on her hand, her open book, *Composition and Structure*, untouched on a particular page, her eyes fixed on the hand he was drawing.
The moment he noticed her, her eyelashes fluttered rapidly. She instinctively tried to look away, but then, as if she had thought of something, she focused even more intently on his fingers holding the pen. Her gaze slowly moved from his knuckles to his wrist, and finally settled on his slightly furrowed brow.
Xu Jia subtly withdrew his gaze, lowered his head again, and focused on his drawing. But the lines drawn by the tip of his pen seemed to pause for half a second longer than usual.
Sketching by the lake behind the art building was a regular habit of his. That day, he was trying to capture the last leaping golden light on the water at dusk, but he always felt that the picture was missing something, somewhat stagnant.
A clear, gentle voice sounded from not far behind, "If the reflection of the reeds on the left were blurred a bit more and a cooler color were used, it might better highlight the warmth and solidity of the light spots."
Xu Jia paused, then turned around.
Lin Ruoyin stood a few steps away, the twilight casting a soft glow around her. She didn't look at him; her gaze was fixed on his image, her eyes pure.
Following her suggestion, he sketched out a picture in his mind, and the feeling of blockage suddenly cleared up.
"Does jewelry design majors also study these things?" he asked, his voice drier than expected.
She then turned her gaze to him, a hint of slight resentment at being questioned: "Jewelry design is also a form of visual art. Light and shadow, and structure, are interconnected."
After speaking, Lin Ruoyin was clearly stunned for a moment, a trace of confusion flashed in her clear eyes, and then she seemed to be suddenly awakened, her eyes widening slightly.
She belatedly realized that while she was observing him discreetly in the library, he was also observing everything.
She pursed her lips, suppressing the upward curve of her lips, and tried to make her voice sound calm: "...You're quite observant."
He moved his lips almost imperceptibly, silently dipped his brush in a cooler blue, and began to adjust the reflection on the water's surface in the direction she had suggested.
...
A thin layer of sycamore leaves covered the ground. Xu Jia pushed open the glass door of the art supply store, and the familiar soft sound of the brass bell on the lintel rang out.
"Boss, I'm here to pick up Mashey." He walked to the wooden counter.
The shop owner, who was tidying up his brushes, looked up with a troubled expression: "Oh dear, Xu, what bad luck..." He glanced instinctively at the doorway, "That student just now also said he wanted this, and took the last one..."
Xu Jia turned his head following the shop owner's gaze and, through the dusty glass window, saw Lin Ruoyin standing under the sycamore tree outside the shop, holding the paint he had asked for. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on her.
She met his gaze through the glass window. She didn't flinch; instead, she slightly raised the corners of her lips and held up the paint tube in her hand, as if displaying a trophy.
Xu Jia pushed open the shop door with the copper bell hanging on it and walked up to her. The fallen leaves made a soft rustling sound under his feet.
“This week,” he began, “the library, the lakeside, and now the art supply store.” His gaze calmly fell on her face. “Young lady, what would you like to do?”
Lin Ruoyin's eyes were bright and direct: "I want to ask you, do you want to date me?"
Lin Ruoyin's words startled Xu Jia for a moment. Then, he said calmly, "No."
"Why?"
"We're not familiar with each other."
Lin Ruoyin didn't show any frustration; instead, she curled her lips into a smile: "Then let's get to know each other slowly."
Xu Jia frowned slightly, but ultimately said nothing. He simply gave her a deep look, then turned and left. His back looked somewhat stiff in the sunlight, and his steps were quicker than usual, as if he were fleeing…
From that day on, Lin Ruoyin still frequently appeared around him, but her attitude had completely changed. It was no longer a carefully planned chance encounter, but a matter-of-fact presence.
She would carry her books and walk straight to the long table in the library where he was, sitting down comfortably in the empty seat next to him; she would sit on the grass not far away while he was sketching by the lake, holding a book on metalworking techniques, as naturally as if it were everyday life.
Xu Jia remained silent, but when Lin Ruoyin quietly pushed over a piece of paper with professional questions written on it, he would silently write a brief answer on the back with a pencil.
At the end of the month, there will be an inter-school design salon.
That day, the lecture hall was packed.
When Lin Ruoyin took the stage as the representative of the jewelry design department, Xu Jia was sitting in the back corner with a sketchbook open on his lap.
He was just listening in as a formality until her voice came through the microphone.
“In the field of jewelry design, we often face a choice: to pursue the luxury defined by the market, piling up value with the most expensive gemstones; or to return to the essence of art, to capture beauty that cannot be priced.” She paused briefly, “I believe that true value does not lie in the price tag of the materials themselves, but in whether the design can give the object a soul, whether it can resonate with light, shadow, posture, and emotions in the wearer’s daily life, and tell a unique story. This dynamic artistic life, completed with the wearer’s participation, cannot be measured by any commercial valuation.”
Her voice was clear and pure: "This may sound idealistic. But if even we creators give up on pursuing and creating this value that transcends commerce, then art will eventually become a cold commodity with a price tag in a shop window."
Some whispers arose from the audience, some in agreement and others in disagreement.
In the back corner, Xu Jia's fingers, which were holding a pencil, paused. He looked up, his gaze piercing through the crowd, landing precisely on the confident and composed figure on the stage.
The salon ended with applause. The crowd surged towards the door, only to find that a torrential downpour had begun outside, the sky darkened, and the rain curtain stretched as far as the eye could see. Students without umbrellas huddled under the eaves, their voices rising and falling in waves.
Xu Jia stood at the edge of the crowd, looking at the dense rain and pondering his route back to his studio. Just as he was about to leave, his gaze inadvertently swept across the crowd.
Lin Ruoyin stood under the eaves not far away, gazing at the rain with a slight frown.
This discovery made Xu Jia pause in his tracks.
Lin Ruoyin gazed at the continuous rain before her and sighed softly. Just as she was struggling with her thoughts, a shadow suddenly fell, blocking out the slanting raindrops.
She looked up in confusion, her heart skipping a beat the moment she saw who it was.
Xu Jia, holding a simple black long-handled umbrella, had somehow appeared in front of her. The umbrella was tilted slightly towards her, and he stood on the edge of it, fine rain streaks quickly forming on his shoulders.
"Going back to the dorm?" he asked, his voice sounding lower than usual in the sound of rain.
Lin Ruoyin felt her cheeks burning and hurriedly nodded, "Mmm."
He gestured for her to step under the umbrella.
Lin Ruoyin moved cautiously.
The raindrops pattered against the umbrella.
She secretly glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. His well-defined profile was particularly clear in the rainy light, and his long, slender fingers gripped the umbrella handle.
“Your remarks today,” his voice rang out in the rain, “concerned that the value of art should not be entirely defined by commerce.”
Lin Ruoyin's heart skipped a beat. Those words were arguments she had carefully prepared for the effect of her speech, quoting several masters and packaging them in beautiful rhetoric. She was even prepared to accept the criticism of being "unrealistic and overly idealistic," after all, even she herself felt that those words had a student-like naiveté.
"This idea reminds me of what Mondrian said: a true artist transforms reality into a pure aesthetic expression. You are trying to find that balance between commerce and fine art."
Lin Ruoyin was stunned.
Xu Jia's tone carried a serious, exploratory tone.
Lin Ruoyin: "Don't you think those words are too idealistic?"
“Idealistic?” Xu Jia turned his head slightly to look at her. “Art originally grows from ideals.”
His voice was calm, yet carried a certain conviction: "If even the creators themselves don't believe in the existence of value beyond price, then the work will forever remain just a commodity." He paused, his gaze returning to the depths of the rain. "The difficulty lies not in upholding ideals, but in how to make those ideals take root. It is indeed difficult, but difficulty doesn't mean we shouldn't think about it."
Lin Ruoyin stared at him blankly.
The rain gradually subsided, turning into a gentle drizzle. When she reached the dormitory building, Lin Ruoyin stopped and turned to face him.
"Thank you for bringing me back."
Xu Jia nodded slightly, acknowledging the thanks. He turned to leave when Lin Ruoyin suddenly called out to him, "Xu Jia."
He stopped and turned to look back.
A light drizzle fell between them. She looked at his shoulders, slightly damp from the rain, and asked tentatively, "Now, are we considered familiar with each other?"
Her questions were still direct, but less impulsive than before, and more earnest and expectant.
He remained silent for a moment, looking at the expectation and barely perceptible nervousness in her eyes, and finally said, "Maybe, I guess so."
This answer made Lin Ruoyin's heart flutter. Her eyes lit up instantly, and the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up, revealing a bright smile.
"Then, drive carefully on your way back." Her voice was filled with barely concealed joy.
Xu Jia nodded.
Lin Ruoyin turned around contentedly and ran lightly up the steps. Xu Jia, holding an umbrella, stood there for a while.
The drizzle continued, casting hazy halos around the streetlights. As he turned to leave, he noticed the reflections of two people walking side by side on the puddles, swaying gently in the ripples of the falling raindrops.
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