Chang Xuyu admired Yuan Zixu's works on her own.
The lights in the studio stayed on. Chang Xuyu sat outside reading a novel. As the sun set, the indoor temperature was high. She took off her scarf, rolled it up as a pillow, and fell asleep without realizing it.
When the two came out of the studio, the outside lights had been adjusted by Chang Xuyu to an orange hue.
The light was dim yellow. She was curled up in a corner of the sofa, hugging a blanket, breathing steadily.
As if she had slept for a long time.
The two stood opposite, watching her. Yuan Zixu shook her head and sighed: "She must have encountered something really tough today, otherwise she wouldn't have come to find me."
Chang Xuyu had always been independent. She liked to stay quietly alone, reading novels or painting.
Jian Jiayue's gaze was fixed on Chang Xuyu. Hearing this, his Adam's apple bobbed.
He knew Chang Xuyu's personality and character well. When he learned about her marriage to that sculptor, he was truly surprised.
That man exuded a sense of unruliness and coldness from his bones. The scar on his forehead and his extraordinary stature seemed to carry authority, keeping people at a distance.
Someone like that... how could Xuyu marry a man like that?
He frowned, narrowed his eyes, and his expression darkened.
Yuan Zixu stole a glance at him and coughed lightly—
"Hey, I can tell. Teacher Jian, you like our Xuyu, right?"
Jian Jiayue was taken aback, then came to his senses and smiled faintly.
"Yes, but Xuyu is already married."
He lowered his eyes and answered her bluntly.
Yuan Zixu nodded, then waved her hand and clicked her tongue twice: "That man is not good to our Xuyu. Let me give you a heads-up: they're going to get divorced sooner or later. Whether you can seize the opportunity depends on your own skill."
Jian Jiayue was stunned.
"They're getting divorced?"
"Mm."
The woman patted her clothes, looked at the sleeping Chang Xuyu on the sofa, and narrowed her eyes. "We once went to a temple to have our fortunes told. It said Xuyu's love life would be quite bumpy. I don't know if it was true, but now it seems there might be some truth to it."
Marrying and divorcing at such a young age, and she was a quiet person, keeping everything bottled up and unwilling to say much. She probably had little in common with that man who treated her as a substitute.
Jian Jiayue frowned.
"Substitute..."
The love he had finally found was nothing but a trivial substitute to someone else.
At the thought, the man clenched his fists, gritted his molars, and his eyes were dark with emotion.
"Any man who is bad to our Xuyu should be rejected," Yuan Zixu shook her head, looked at Jian Jiayue, and patted his shoulder firmly, saying confidently: "Teacher Jian, I think you are sincere with our Xuyu. I trust you!"
Jian Jiayue lowered his head and thought for a moment, his expression turning serious.
"But Xuyu never mentioned that she was getting divorced."
If she didn't mention it, was she still hesitating inside?
The man silently clenched his fists.
"Because she's not close to you. Who would randomly talk about these things with someone they're not close to?" Yuan Zixu clicked her tongue. "Teacher Jian, although you're a bit older, you have the advantage of being steady and mature. Our Xuyu has always been childlike and needs taking care of."
The color in Jian Jiayue's eyes deepened.
Yuan Zixu walked over and gently patted Chang Xuyu: "Wake up, Xuyu. Let's go eat."
Chang Xuyu opened her eyes. It was dim all around. She rubbed her eyes and stood up, slowly coming to. It seemed to have become evening.
"What are we eating?"
Her eyes were vacant, staring blankly at a spot, and she asked dazedly.
Yuan Zixu smoothed her hair, thought for a moment, and turned to ask Jian Jiayue: "It's late. How about we grab a bite together?"
Jian Jiayue glanced at his watch and agreed.
...
The neon lights were dazzling and chaotic.
Like an old slide show, scene after scene, familiar and intimate, vast and deep.
She buried half her face in her thick scarf, hid both hands in her cotton coat pockets, and slowly followed behind the two.
Her ears were red from the cold, the tips already numb.
The cold air in the north was like a child whose toy had been snatched away, pouting in grievance, its face scrunching up in tears, crying fiercely, tears like rolling waves, endless, the more you coaxed, the more it intensified. Only when people gave in and it cried itself out did it stop.
Chang Xuyu sniffled. If only she could be so unreasonable.
Unfortunately, no one would indulge her.
After searching for a long time for a restaurant, the two decided on barbecue.
Yuan Zixu brought over some beer, running over with an excited face.
Chang Xuyu's rhinitis flared up.
The barbecue restaurant was warm, so they took off their coats.
Jian Jiayue and Yuan Zixu had another successful collaboration. They opened the wine and celebrated, their faces brimming with smiles.
The barbecue place at night seemed endless, lively and bustling. Every table of young people gathered together was having a great time.
The smell of smoke and meat mingled together, pushing the atmosphere to a climax.
Chang Xuyu felt a bit suffocated, but it was freezing outside, and she didn't want to go out again.
Looking at the golden beer in Yuan Zixu's glass, it was as if she was reviewing the past month or two through the surface of the wine.
She stared blankly at the glass and, for some reason, picked it up and drank it.
Yuan Zixu was a bit surprised: "Xuyu..."
In her memory, she had never seen Chang Xuyu drink.
Sure enough, Chang Xuyu choked. She leaned over the corner of the table and coughed, while Yuan Zixu hurriedly patted her back.
"Really, if you can't drink, don't. No one forced you. We're just here to eat."
After coughing, Chang Xuyu waved her hand to indicate she was fine.
But the next second—
The two heard a faint sobbing sound.
Chang Xuyu slowly lifted her head. Hidden among her messy stray hairs was a face tinged with pink. Her skin was fair, so the redness was even more noticeable.
Crying, she looked for the wine bottle, her face full of grievance, like a well-behaved child who wanted to throw a little tantrum.
Yuan Zixu pressed her forehead. This alcohol tolerance was too low.
Author's note:
Rembrandt: the most outstanding realist artist of 17th century Netherlands
Monet: the most representative painter of 19th century French Impressionism.