Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Perfect Coordination (Part Three)

Yu Manyi appeared so suddenly that the crowd gathered outside the school was momentarily stunned. Once they processed what she had just said, murmurs and discussions erupted from all directions.

The other members of the You family also arrived at that moment. After pulling the gatekeeper aside for a few words to understand the situation, they all turned their gaze toward Yu Manyi. In front of the school steps—three tiers high—Yu Manyi stood like someone suddenly thrust onto a stage, becoming the center of everyone’s attention. It was the first time she had been stared at by so many eyes, and the courage she had mustered began to deflate. She couldn't help but step back half a step.

Someone supported her from behind, a palm resting at her waist, its warmth seeping through her clothes into her body. It was Song Qi. Of course, he hadn’t wanted Yu Manyi to get involved—this was precisely why he didn’t let her get off the carriage earlier.

But now she was standing here. She had shouted what she did—there was no turning back once the arrow had been loosed from the bow.

She turned her head to look at Song Qi. Song Qi looked back at her. The hand at her waist withdrew silently. In front of all these people, even such a small gesture was too overstepping. Yet that brief support seemed to give Yu Manyi the courage not to retreat. She turned back around, looked at the astonished You family members, and, gritting her teeth, questioned them:

“You’re all so strange. Why do you immediately insist that it was a man who drew it, and go on to pin all those ugly accusations on Sister You? I’m also studying painting—she was just a model I used for my assignment.”

“Model” was a borrowed term. Yu Manyi had first heard it from Teacher Su. Apparently, at some art schools in Shanghai, they would hire people for students to observe and draw—those people were called “models.”

This was the first time the word had rolled off Yu Manyi’s tongue, and her pronunciation was still a little clumsy. It confused the students in the crowd. Finally, the little postman—whose self-study far exceeded the content of their English literacy classes—stepped forward, waving his arms as he explained to everyone, “Model, it means Model! Like someone who just stands there for the artist to use as reference!”

A collective “Ohhh” rose from the crowd. Even the newly arrived members of the You family showed sudden realization on their faces—though that understanding was quickly silenced by the stern glares of some of the older folks. The same gatekeeper who had stirred up trouble at the door looked uneasy. He opened the painting of Miss You again, glanced from Yu Manyi to the image, his expression still full of doubt.

“You’re saying you drew this?” he questioned, “Then why didn’t she say anything?”

“Why don’t you actually listen to what people are saying?” Yu Manyi’s voice grew firmer. “Obviously because you people made such a fuss—your family’s young lady gets painted and you storm the school. If it gets out that I’m learning to paint, who knows what will happen… She only kept quiet because she was protecting me.”

As she said this, Yu Manyi finally realized that by standing out and shouting like this today, word would definitely reach the Yu family. Whether she’d be allowed to continue learning to paint would now depend on the mood of her elders. But if she didn’t step forward, Sister You’s position in the You family would become precarious. What’s more, with the You family making a scene at the school, even the fate of the literacy class might now be at risk.

Sigh, Yu Manyi thought with tragic nobility, If not me in hell, then who?She lowered her head slightly at that thought, clearly a little disheartened. Song Qi stood behind her, his gaze completely focused on her—as if, in this moment, nothing outside of Yu Manyi existed for him. When she lowered her head, from where he stood, he could just see a small strip of skin between her tied-up black hair and the collar of her clothes. Song Qi suddenly remembered the first time she brought him back to the Yu household. There was a stretch of the road where dragging him was no longer possible, so she hoisted his unconscious body onto her shoulder. At that time, Song Qi had briefly regained consciousness, and in his blurry vision, he’d also seen this same small strip of skin.

He suddenly felt it was inappropriate and quickly looked away, redirecting his focus back to the school entrance.

The doorman from the You family clearly wasn't easy to fool. He examined the portrait in his hands again and expressed doubt about Yu Manyi's explanation. He said that although the painting was outrageous, the skill was impressive—the portrayal of Miss You was lifelike. He didn’t believe it was just Yu Manyi’s homework; the person who held the brush must be someone else.

“What do you mean someone else? Who else?” Yu Manyi held her ground firmly. “You said it yourself—aside from the You family, You Jiejie only comes to this school. There’s no professional artist here, only me who knows how to paint. Now I’ve stepped forward to claim the painting, and you still say it’s not mine? Do you have to disgrace the You family and dig out some so-called ‘evidence’ of You Jiejie’s impropriety before you’re satisfied?”

“That’s right,” the little postman crossed his arms, suddenly enlightened, and immediately rallied the crowd, “This big brother really has sinister intentions!”

“You—you all!” The doorman was momentarily speechless, and his momentum visibly weakened. His mouth opened and closed silently, then he turned to one of the newly arrived members of the You family and stammered, “Steward Cao, I really didn’t mean it like that!”

Yu Manyi didn’t recognize this man, but Song Qi looked over in the direction the doorman spoke and raised his eyebrows.

Having clashed with the You family several times, he was naturally familiar with Steward Cao—especially since the first time he tried to escape from the train station, it was this same bald-headed man who captured him and dragged him back.

Steward Cao had already listened to the entire argument. Now, with a gloomy face, he swept his gaze across Song Qi and Yu Manyi’s faces. He neither confirmed nor denied anything.

Of course, he was at the school under orders from Master You—to capture the pervert who had drawn the portrait and bring him back to the You household, and to warn the common townsfolk not to entertain any wild thoughts—

Even if Miss You could no longer marry well, she was still the You family’s asset—she represented a dowry, a bride price, a piece to be arranged by parental orders and matchmakers. How could a few literacy classes give rise to her own will? Just yesterday, a maid saw her crying and burying something in the backyard. Upon reporting it to Second Master You, they dug it up and found this very painting. She was punished to kneel all night but still wouldn’t reveal who drew it. Utterly outrageous.

He had come to protect the You family’s reputation, not to make them even more of a laughingstock. If the painting truly came from Yu Manyi, that would actually be a good thing—then it would be the Yu family’s problem, not theirs. But the painting was too suspicious. With just this little girl’s word, knowing Master You’s temperament, he’d never get away with it.

Running this line of thought through his mind, Steward Cao’s face twitched a few times before he finally opened his mouth.

“In our You family, secretly deciding one's own marriage is a matter of utmost gravity—it requires punishment by family law,” he stared hard at Yu Manyi, trying to find the telltale signs of lying in her eyes, “If this painting truly came from Miss Yu’s hand, that would be better. We could simply call it a misunderstanding. But…”He took the scroll painting from the gatekeeper’s hands, examined it closely for a moment, then lifted his eyelids to stare at Yu Manyi.

“Master You demands evidence in all matters. Miss Yu, you claim you painted this—so how will you prove it?”

“Hey!” Fang Qian, who had been standing to the side watching ever since she got off the carriage, finally couldn’t hold back. “Then how do you prove she didn’t paint it? Do you country bumpkins even understand the law? Don’t you know that it’s the accuser who has to provide the proof?!”

“Then you outsiders better stop meddling in our local affairs!” Steward Cao shot a fierce glare at her. Fang Qian, being a pampered young lady, had never been treated like this before. She rolled up her sleeves, ready to lash out with a string of curses, but the little postman leapt forward and held her back.

The tension that had just started to ease at the school gate instantly snapped taut again. Yu Manyi was so anxious her scalp prickled. Her gaze flicked several times to the painting scroll swaying in Steward Cao’s hands, then she shut her eyes for a moment. At last, she steeled herself and grabbed Song Qi’s wrist, yanking him to her side to stand shoulder to shoulder with her.

“I’ll prove it! I can prove it!” she said. “You all keep going on because you don’t believe I could have painted that picture. Fine—then I’ll draw another one!”

“Even if you do, it could just be a copy,” Steward Cao pressed relentlessly. “Miss Yu, you already know how to draw. Imitating someone else’s work—even perfectly—isn’t that hard.”

“I won’t copy it,” Yu Manyi said. Her grip on Song Qi’s wrist was so tight her nails dug into his skin. “I’ll draw another one right in front of you, just as vivid, just as good—I’ll draw him!”

The noisy commotion at the school gate suddenly went silent. She didn’t even need to put brush to paper—just this one line from her was enough to lessen people’s doubt. After all, Yu Manyi looked too confident, too assured. Only Song Qi—only he—knew how nervous she really was.

He leaned down slightly and spoke into her ear. His expression was as calm as hers, but his voice was a little tense:

“You’re squeezing me… don’t use so much force.”

…

No one had ever attended a literacy class like this before.

Yu Manyi wouldn’t hand over the painting, and the You family wouldn’t leave. But it wasn’t fair to keep the local villagers who had come for class waiting in limbo either. In the end, both sides took a step back—class would proceed as usual. Song Qi would lecture at the front, Yu Manyi would draw at the back, and the You family would wait on the side for the result.

“I might not draw him exactly as he looks in class,” Yu Manyi said as she sat down. She’d originally wanted to keep the lesson and the portrait separate, but the You family stubbornly refused, as if they were determined to watch her paint a terrible version of Song Qi so they could humiliate her publicly.

Indeed, capturing a moving figure’s likeness was far more difficult.But Yu Manyi remembered that when Teacher Su painted Miss You, she didn’t just stand on that bridge the entire time. He captured his first impression of Miss You with his brush, making it even more vivid than her simply standing there for him to sculpt.

“I’ll try to move as little as possible,” Song Qi said as he helped her set up the easel.

“It’s fine,” Yu Manyi glanced at the marks she had left on his wrist from squeezing him, recalling how he had also bruised her ankle on the field path. Somehow, this made her feel balanced inside. “I’m drawing you because I’m most familiar with your appearance—I could paint you without even looking.”

Song Qi was momentarily stunned. When he left afterward, his expression was noticeably unnatural. Fang Qian stood at a distance with her arms crossed, observing, and saw Song Qi suppressing a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

The situation really was tense, Fang Qian thought to herself, amazed that even the usually composed Song Qi’s mouth muscles were twitching from nervousness.