Chapter 1 The Phoenix in Distress
Many years later, Jian Zhen sat on a sofa in a studio and was interviewed by a famous host. The host asked her when she started to feel famous. After a moment's thought, what came to mind was not the award ceremony that everyone was watching, but the early summer of 2012. She had not yet graduated, but her graduation project had been selected as a first-class work in the art academy's graduation exhibition that year and was praised by everyone.
Some people touted her as the future John Lasseter of China, but Jian Zhen scoffed at it—many reporters couldn't even distinguish between 2D and 3D animation; they were just trying to flatter her father, which was utterly laughable. Fortunately, her father also valued his reputation, politely declining the offers while telling his daughter: "Keep a low profile lately, and don't come home unless it's absolutely necessary."
So Jian Zhen spent the entire month of May at school, spending her time there. Her most frequent activity was to carry her easel and folding stool, find a quiet corner with shade, and set up her easel to sketch.
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the dense foliage, falling on her in irregular patches of light. As the sun set, the edges of these patches blurred, and their colors softened. Jian Zhen stirred against the tree trunk, finally waking up.
The saying goes, "Spring brings drowsiness, autumn brings fatigue, and summer brings naps." For someone as idle as her, taking a longer nap is perfectly reasonable. However…
Jian Zhen glanced down at the men's linen shirt covering her, and after a couple of seconds, thought to herself: Who the hell is so bored that they've made her sweat?
She rolled her eyes speechlessly, straightened her back, and sat up, her shirt falling onto her lap. A male student sketching nearby noticed her movement and eagerly looked over: "Awake? You're awake?"
"Hmm." Jian Zhen's face was sour, which the other person took as the young lady's morning grumpiness. After all, they had been "sketching together" for several days in a row. When they met yesterday, Jian Zhen had even glanced at him a few more times and nodded to greet him. So, they were friends, right? The male student encouraged himself inwardly.
"Are these your clothes?" Jian Zhen grabbed the shirt off her leg and asked him from a distance.
"Yes!" See? She even noticed what she was wearing today!
Jian Zhen didn't say anything more, and casually tossed the shirt over her shoulder. It landed on the easel in front of her legs. The paint had long since dried. Jian Zhen rubbed her temples, feeling a little annoyed.
"Are you hungry?" The other person looked at his new shirt on the easel, feeling a pang of heartache, then looked at Jian Zhen's profile and suppressed that heartache.
Jian Zhen didn't answer his question right away. She took out her then-rare iPhone 4s from her pocket, slid it to unlock, and a bunch of messages popped up from different people, all of whom, like the one next to her, were asking her out to dinner.
She didn't reply to any of them. She glanced at the weather forecast, then got up and packed up her easel. She finished quickly and efficiently before the person next door could speak again, then picked up her things and headed towards them.
"Thank you for the shirt." Jian Zhen draped the shirt over the other person's easel, put on a generous and polite smile, and continued, "I'm not very good at washing clothes, so please take it home and wash it yourself. Consider this painting as compensation for your laundry fee."
The other person took the drawing, and Jian Zhen put one hand in her pocket and walked away without looking back, leaving the male classmate standing there like a dumbfounded goose.
The male student was initially excited about exchanging items! As Qian Zhongshu said, isn't this the first step in a romantic relationship? But when he unfolded the drawing, he immediately blushed and almost broke out in a sweat from embarrassment.
There was no landscape depicted in the painting, only a sweating little figure sketched on the canvas. Jian Zhen wrote two sentences in the vast blank space of the paper: I am very afraid of the heat, you should keep your clothes to warm those who are cold!
Jian Zhen's handwriting is characterized by its flowing, flamboyant strokes, a trait that becomes even more pronounced when she signs her name. She packed her backpack from her dorm and strolled towards the school's back gate, buying a sandwich along the way for dinner.
The sandwich shop clerk took the signed loyalty card from her, looked up at her, and asked with concern, "Going swimming?"
"Hmm." Jian Zhen leaned lazily against the counter, waiting for her sandwich.
"I heard there's a luxury car parked outside the back door," the shop assistant whispered to her, gossiping.
Jian Zhen hummed a single syllable through her nose to indicate that she understood. What was so strange about that? Every few days, different luxury cars could be seen on the small road outside the back door.
There are too many wealthy and greedy people in this world. The older generation demands youth from the younger generation, and as long as the price is high enough, there will always be someone willing to make the exchange. Besides, it's well known that people in art schools tend to have more flexible moral standards.
“It’s a Rolls-Royce.” The salesperson was clearly dissatisfied with her lukewarm response and continued to emphasize in a lowered voice.
Jian Zhen looked up at the other person with slight surprise, and whispered, "Ah~"
The two exchanged a knowing look, and the clerk, finally satisfied, handed her the steaming hot sandwich and asked, "How are you getting there? Are you walking?"
"Hmm." Jian Zhen's job was in the south, and she sold her bicycle last month. The buyer was the shop assistant across the street. She had bought the bicycle for a high price, but sold it for a pittance, which made the buyer feel embarrassed. He took the opportunity to take out the keys and share the driving rights—"You can ride my bike! It's parked on the side of the road outside the back door."
“Okay.” Jian Zhen didn’t hesitate at all. She took the keys and went to the back door to find her bike. In this day and age, even the pioneer of shared bikes, ofo, hadn’t been launched yet. The area outside the school was full of colorful private bicycles, from old-fashioned 28-inch bikes to trendy mountain bikes. Whatever style you wanted, they had it. She searched through them one by one with her eyes, which was almost like seeing a bicycle expo.
It was at this moment that Jian Zhen saw the legendary Rolls-Royce.
To be honest, it's so eye-catching that she can't help but notice it.
After finishing the last bite of her sandwich, Jian Zhen walked to the trash can, crumpled the wrapper into a ball, and threw it in. Every now and then, she would turn her head to look at the car—it was red!
It should be noted that the times have not progressed to the point where there are more female billionaires than male billionaires. Ninety-nine percent of the capitalists who dare to keep mistresses on college campuses are men. Black, white, silver, and gray almost encompass all the colors of their cars. How can someone's skin have evolved into a city wall, doing such a despicable thing and still choosing such a flamboyant style?
"The world is going to the dogs!" Jian Zhen clicked her tongue twice, moved her old Giant bicycle out, squatted down to unlock it, stood up, lifted her leg onto the bike, and stepped onto the zebra crossing, waiting for the red light to turn green so she could cross the road.
As her perspective shifted, she could see the windshield of the Rolls-Royce by turning her head. Unlike the tinted side windows, the windshield was transparent, allowing her to see the scenery inside the car.
What a sight! Jian Zhen stared intently at the car for a few seconds; a very handsome man was sitting in the passenger seat.
The other person was sleeping with his head tilted back in the chair. Even at such a terrible angle, his outstanding good looks were still undeniable. He looked like an art-house film leading man, captivating everyone's attention. Jian Zhen shifted her gaze to the driver's seat, which was empty. She couldn't help but start imagining two possibilities.
A gay male patron is a sugar daddy/sugar baby for a male college student, or a heterosexual female patron is a sugar daddy/sugar baby for a male college student.
Jian Zhen was more inclined towards the latter, but even so, she felt a little sorry for this stranger who had gone astray. In peacetime, with hands and feet, what couldn't he do? Why did he have to choose to fall into depravity?
Someone rang the bicycle bell beside her, bringing Jian Zhen back to her senses. The green light ahead had turned on, and she stepped off the pedal, joining the bustling crowd.
Hao Jiaren was going in the opposite direction. He struggled out of the dense crowd, shrugged, walked to his cool car, opened the driver's side door, took a deep breath, and complained, "You slept like a log!"
The person in the passenger seat trembled, their eyelashes fluttering. Before even opening their eyes, they raised a hand to rub their neck and asked in a hoarse voice, "What did you buy?"
"Cigarettes, alcohol, and your local specialties from the South—"
Xu Weisheng turned her head, opened her eyes, and laughed as she looked at the bags he threw in: "I said I'd just buy some fruit, this is too much of a waste, I can't accept this..."
Hao Jiaren sat down, slammed the door shut, and bluntly exposed him: "I don't see anything embarrassing about you. I know you're so poor you're practically begging for food, but Dean Jiang may not know. Back then, your star pupil, the pride of heaven, came to ask him for a favor, only bringing two watermelons. Do you think Dean Jiang would have thrown you out?"
Xu Weisheng's eyes and the corners of his mouth were smiling: "You, me, well... it would be impolite of me to refuse."
"You'd better hurry up and get out of the car! I've had my car parked here long enough. If I stay any longer, it'll definitely be on the news tomorrow." Hao Jiaren waved his hand, urging him to get out of the car.
Xu Weisheng unscrewed the mineral water bottle, took a sip, grabbed the exquisitely packaged gift boxes with one hand, and pushed open the door to get out of the car with the other.
The moment the soles of her shoes touched the paving stones, the early summer evening breeze brushed against her face. Xu Weisheng took a deep breath and walked towards the back gate of the school.
To his right was a wall, and to his left were a jumble of bicycles. The students passing by were all strangers. The sunshade of the security booth in front of him seemed to have changed color, or perhaps it hadn't, but had simply changed to a different shade of blue with the passing years of wind and sun.
Hao Jiaren? This is a pun.
Hahahahahahahaha
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