Chapter 139
Wang Jiazhi went to learn oil painting. She could have asked the teacher to come to her home, but the teacher he found was a famous painter. She felt it would be rude to ask him to come to her home, so she decided to go and learn by herself. She also wanted to see what the painter's studio in the novel looked like.
But it wasn't like the novel, neither wildly messy nor adorned with flowers, cute pets, and exquisite ornaments. It felt a bit like a school library, with excellent lighting. There were two easels, one a bit worn, the other very new. Apparently, an extra person had added another. The room was spacious and clean, with a pot of lilies on the floor.
The teacher was a thin man in his thirties, not handsome, but with a delicate appearance. He spoke in a gentle and pleasant voice, reminiscent of a young Chinese teacher. He was also very patient and kind, repeatedly praising her excellent painting and solid foundation.
After the first class, the teacher's wife came over to meet the guests and asked for snacks and coffee. She was very fair and pretty, and she and the teacher looked like a married couple.
Wang Jiazhi looked at them and thought that this was also her ideal marriage a long time ago, having a beloved husband and living a peaceful life.
Wang Jiazhi smiled and said, "I'd like to take two classes a week, on Mondays and Wednesdays. I wonder if that's convenient for you."
"Of course. If you're willing, you can call me anytime. I should be available at any time."
"How can I feel good about that?"
The teacher's wife laughed and said, "There are family concerns too. That's what happens when you're married. The time you spend on your hobbies has to be reduced."
Wang Jiazhi smiled slightly.
She now understood what he meant. Although she wasn't married and didn't have children, he often wasn't home, and even the house they lived in wasn't hers. But it was definitely different from the carefree days of the past. She always felt a sense of attachment when she left the house. Actually, two classes a week wasn't enough. She had originally wanted three classes a week, but she didn't know when he would be home. Even though the class ended in the afternoon, he would still come back sometimes.
Having not painted for a long time, Wang Jiazhi decided to practice by painting a still life of flowers. It was a white lotus with a thousand petals, and two white butterflies landed on it.
She knew this kind of Chinese flower would be best painted with fine brushwork. But since she couldn't think of anything else to paint, she chose this as a practice. The result was quite good.
When she brought it back to him, he said it was very good. An empty room next to the study was now turned into a studio for her to paint.
Grandma and the little girl were discussing privately, "Why is he going out to learn painting? He's still so young, and I heard he's pretty good-looking. Isn't this inviting a wolf into the house?"
The little girl said, "I don't think it's that serious. They are both very nice. The young lady looks very honest and doesn't seem like the kind of person who would be unruly."
Those around her had almost forgotten that Wang Jiazhi's public identity was a businessman's wife, and the servants in the house all treated her as Lao Yi's kept girl. In fact, even she herself had almost forgotten.
Old Yi didn't suspect she would cheat on him. Instead, during their conversation, he mentioned, "You seem to really like painting flowers and plants."
Wang Jiazhi said, "Yes, I like to paint still lifes of flowers and plants the most, and I also like landscapes. I just don't like to paint people."
"ah?"
"It's the same with everything else. I never paint figures in traditional Chinese painting, and I don't like watercolors either."
Lao Yi thought of her paintings and postcards. Didn't she say she didn't like drawing people? If she did, it must be something special.
He recalled a classmate from his youth who had a crush on a girl but was too embarrassed to confess his feelings. It was unrequited love, so whenever he thought of her, he'd draw her portrait on paper. Books and notebooks were covered in his drawings. He'd saved a stack of newspapers for calligraphy practice, but rice paper was too expensive. Before he could even use them, he'd painted all over them with his portraits. It was such a thick stack, he wondered how he'd ever finish it.
Thinking of this, Lao Yi's heart suddenly skipped a beat. The person in the painting looked a bit like him.
It can't be that the person she likes looks so much like her that she is so clingy because she loves him so much.
He knew everyone in her small circle by heart, and none of them looked like him. In other words, they were separated.
She was actually not stupid at all. Before jumping into the fire pit, she destroyed all the letters and photos related to that person, leaving only a few ambiguous paintings as a souvenir, just in case, she would not implicate him.
Thinking of that meticulously crafted oil painting, it was obvious that it was the product of painstaking effort and hard work.
He turned to look at her. She was embroidering seriously beside him. A kitten was lying on her feet with its tail wrapped around his feet.
That doesn't seem like it. She doesn't know anything, can't get any intelligence, and just clings to him. If she doesn't see him for a few days, she'll cry. If she was just using him as a substitute, she wouldn't be so distracted.
Her eyes were tired from embroidering, so she stretched herself a little, then took the tulip by the bed, which had already begun to bud and was gradually turning a deep purple, sniffed it, and put it back. With a whimper, she rested her head on his legs and closed her eyes, ready for sleep.
He thought maybe it was all a coincidence, maybe her ideal person should be similar to himself when he was young, so she didn't reject him from the beginning. That's why she is so clingy now.
She used one of her small hands to pull up his trouser legs, revealing his hairy calves. She liked to touch his hairy legs, as it helped her sleep better.
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