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墨書 Inktalez
Zhou Minshi silently accepted her card, muttering a thank you before turning to leave. Zheng Mengni knew that he had agreed to her request for a proxy painting. This relationship was precarious, hanging by a thread.
Zheng Mengni did not visit Zhou Minshi in the infirmary. Since starting university, she had intentionally avoided any contact with him on campus. The nature of their proxy painting arrangement was something that could not be made public; she did not want anyone to discover it.
Before afternoon classes, Zhou Minshi sent her a message: "I’ll give you those two paintings next weekend." Zheng Mengni replied with a simple acknowledgment. The courses in her freshman year were relatively light, and she spent most of her free time in the library reading. On nights without study sessions, she practiced painting in the Art Studio.
She fantasized about the day when she would no longer need Zhou Minshi's paintings and could earn her father's approval. Until then, she needed to carefully maintain this facade.
In the Art Studio, Zheng Mengni sat quietly in front of the easel, meticulously imitating Zhou Minshi's work. She admitted that he possessed exceptional talent and humbly regarded him as her teacher. She studied every painting he sent her, analyzing them carefully to learn from his strengths.
With gentle brows and focused eyes, she held her brush and sketched on the paper, completely unaware when someone pushed open the door to the Art Studio. Zhou Minshi stood silently behind her. Her hair was styled up, cascading down one side and revealing a delicate neck. She wore a pair of pearl tassel earrings that swayed slightly with her movements as she painted.
His gaze shifted from the back of Zheng Mengni's head to the paper before her. After some time without paying attention, he noticed that her handling of their secret relationship had improved significantly, and her painting style was increasingly resembling his own.
Zhou Minshi's eyes reflected complex emotions; he knew that his relationship with Zheng Mengni should have ended long ago. He was not one to pave the way for others, yet he understood that their connection could only be sustained through these paintings.
Zheng Mengni lacked natural talent but had never given up on learning. Even with his support allowing her to feel at ease, she remained vigilant. Her diligent practice and imitation of his brushwork were likely preparations for ending this relationship.
Contemplating this layer of complexity only heightened Zhou Minshi's sense of unease rather than providing comfort; an unprecedented feeling of crisis began to take root within him.
If Zheng Mengni no longer needed him to paint for her, what value would he have left to her?
Zhou Minshi stood in the light, casting a shadow over Zheng Mengni, who was seated. She looked up, surprised to see him there. The man’s face bore noticeable bruises, starkly contrasting with his fair skin, giving off an inexplicable sense of cruelty.
"You arrived just in time. Could you help me take a look at this painting? I can't seem to find the problem myself," she said.
Zheng Mengni's serene smile was pure and beautiful, her dark eyes glistening with clarity and innocence. Those who met her gaze found it hard to refuse her. Yet Zhou Minshi declined: "It looks good. The remaining two paintings seem like you can complete them independently."
A flicker of confusion crossed Zheng Mengni's eyes. "What? You're not going to help me anymore?"
She remained seated while Zhou Minshi stood above her, his expression cold and unyielding. "Zheng Mengni, who can help you for a lifetime?"
Her heart raced as she replied, "I never intended to trouble you for a lifetime."
After her words hung in the air, the man fell silent, his gaze growing even colder.
"I’ve been practicing hard; I just need your help to maintain this lie until I can create independently."
"I heard you’re working part-time at a coffee shop. Is the salary I gave you not enough? I can raise it; you don’t have to work so hard," she added.
Though her words sounded somewhat calculated, if one looked closely into her eyes, there was an undeniable sincerity that seemed devoid of deceit. Whether it was too effortless or genuine simplicity, Zhou Minshi could never quite see through it.
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