"Go sit in the office inside for a while. If you want to draw, you can come out. We have everything here. If you're tired, take a nap. I need to get to work in the workshop."
With that, he walked over and opened the curtain. Sunlight streamed through the glass window, revealing a door opposite with a sign that read "Office."
Chang Xuyu watched him leave, then walked around the studio again. She picked up a spray bottle and misted the potted plants, gathered the scattered drafts, and put them in order, tidying up roughly.
As an art teacher, she liked to keep her own space clean and tidy—a habit she had developed since her student days.
She gently pushed open the office door. As expected, Yi Zhuo's office was still simply decorated. Unlike the multi-person studio outside, this room was very clean.
She let out a breath, closed the door, and walked in.
The room's furnishings were very simple. There were many bookshelves filled with professional books. On the desk, besides a computer and keyboard, there was nothing else.
She sat down slowly, looking around, and inexplicably wanted to laugh.
He really was... not like someone working in the arts.
Even his office was arranged so conventionally, without even a display cabinet for trophies and certificates.
But she knew Yi Zhuo must have many certificates and trophies.
To have a certain reputation in the art world, not only did your skills need to be solid, but awards and honors were also essential.
After sitting for a while, she happened to notice a very small wood carving in the corner of the file cabinet.
It wasn't very conspicuous. Curious, she leaned in, pulled out the carving, and held it in her palm to look at it. It was the figure of a young girl.
The carving was extremely detailed. The girl had curved brows and crescent-shaped smiling eyes, a bit of baby fat on her cheeks, and a beret on her head—very familiar.
Most sculpture majors had strong modeling skills; it was their advantage. For someone like Yi Zhuo, a standout in the field, it was even better.
The features—no matter how she looked at it—resembled her...
Huh?
She squinted. The beret was bought for her by her aunt in high school. Her aunt loved to dress her up and said that hat gave her an artistic temperament.
Examining the small wood carving, Chang Xuyu felt a slight surprise.
Because this hat had been lost a long time ago. As for how it was lost, she had obviously forgotten.
How could he have carved such an image?
She turned the carving over. On the bottom was a line of very small engraved characters:
"2013, 'Xuyu.'"
This piece was called "Xuyu," her name.
And in 2013, she was eighteen, just admitted to the Central Academy of Fine Arts.
She thought she remembered 2013 the most clearly. That year, three students from her training institution got into the academy, and she was the only one among them who was a first-time test taker, getting in within a year. Many praised her for her exceptional talent, but few knew that she worked hard in obscure corners to fill in her gaps in color talent.
Finally, her hard work paid off. After two years of art exams, school-specific exams, and the college entrance exam, she really got in.
Putting the carving back in its place, Chang Xuyu felt both doubtful and bewildered. She couldn't help but pick at her nails, lost in thought.
But before, she never remembered a person named "Yi Zhuo."
This man's appearance was like someone coming against the light under a streetlamp on a snowy night—so flamboyant, abrupt, appearing in her world without warning. It was as if, since meeting him, the trajectory of her life had been quietly altered.
Clearly, initially, she had only bound herself to a man who was passable in all aspects just to escape her family's repeated urgings.
And he, coincidentally, had his reasons, was determined, as if he had to have her...
From their first meeting, she saw in his eyes the ambition and desire of a predator set on its prey.
Even in bed, his frenzy for her showed no restraint, mixing sweat and sweet words, plunging deeper, as if he wanted to devour her completely.
Such fierce love—perhaps she would never feel it from anyone else in her life.
So what exactly had she forgotten?
*
Chang Xuyu walked out as if driven by some force.
The cold air rushed at her, like needles wrapped in steel, mercilessly piercing her skin.
Entering the workshop, she saw Yi Zhuo, a cigarette between his lips, wearing a vest as he dismantled clay.
The man's movements were orderly and steady. He had broad shoulders and long legs, with a neat short haircut, standing in the halo of light—very striking.
On one side, workers were busy with 3D printing technology for sculptures, eventually unifying the colors.
She found it very novel, looking around as she handed him water, silently observing the half-dismantled clay bust.
Yi Zhuo turned back and put out his cigarette.
"A commission from a very important client. The employees didn't do it well, so I dismantled it and will redo it," he said flatly.
For a clay sculpture that Yi Zhuo would make himself, the client must be very important.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the half-dismantled head—it seemed to be a woman's image.
Thick lips curled wantonly, a chin sharp as a cone, exceptionally seductive.
Chang Xuyu glanced at it a couple more times but didn't ask further.