Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Perfect Coordination (4)

Before entering Teacher Su’s studio, Yu Manyi had drawn many things; most rubbings came from embroidery samples and purchased packaging. After studying under Teacher Su, her model to imitate became Su himself. Yu Manyi learned incredibly fast and had an astonishing ability to imitate, so much so that Teacher Su couldn’t help but find her several times and tell her, “I don’t need you to paint exactly like me. Sooner or later, you will create your own Yu Manyi style.”

Yu Manyi still hadn’t grasped what her own style looked like, but at the moment, “exactly like Teacher Su” obviously helped her, Miss You, and the oblivious Teacher Su a great deal amid the current crisis. She had already learned painting techniques from Su, even the habits of brush strokes matched Su Wen’s perfectly. The only difficulty might be…

Yu Manyi looked up at Song Qi standing on the podium, sinking into memories of what Su Wen had said.

Their summer course was brief, so the content shouldn’t have been too deep. Yet that day, after reviewing Yu Manyi’s homework, Su Wen asked her this question: “Have you ever thought about why what you paint never quite looks alive?”

Yu Manyi wasn’t convinced then: “Someone once praised my paintings as very vivid.”

“Laypeople think likeness equals vividness,” Teacher Su said bluntly, making Yu Manyi feel somewhat frustrated. “I’m talking about ‘alive’ — whether it’s an animal, a person, or even a flower or grass, it must feel truly alive.”

Yu Manyi stopped arguing and listened quietly.

“You keep imitating me because your own work has no life; it’s not alive,” Teacher Su continued. “I know you only want to learn painting as a way to make money. If all you want in life is a way to earn money, then your work won’t come alive. But I think, with your talent, if that’s your only ambition, it’s really a pity.”

“I don’t think I have much talent,” Yu Manyi said. “My talent is enough to make some money to live on, and that’s good enough.”

“Stop making me angry,” Su Wen’s tone suddenly turned a little annoyed. Yu Manyi looked up in surprise, seeing Su Wen staring at her brushstrokes. He shook his head — it didn’t seem like he was angry with her but with himself.

Su Wen calmed down and continued: “It’s not ‘alive’ because your eyes aren’t sharp enough. You glance over people and objects in a hurry, only seeing the whole — ordinary people’s eyes work like that. But our eyes, as painters, cannot see that way.”

He had included Yu Manyi and himself in the category of “us painters,” which made her even less to say.

“To make what you paint come alive,” Su Wen finally got to the point, “you need to refine your eyes — refine them so that with a single glance you can see the most unique, different characteristics of what you are drawing, and then magnify those in your work. Your work is your processed reality; if it’s just exactly like reality, do you think you could be a camera?”Yu Manyi seemed to understand a bit, but not fully. So she took a painting of a blacksmith by Su Wen from the wall and asked, “Then Teacher Su, when you look for characteristics, do you have any tricks? Like this blacksmith—I feel he’s no different from other blacksmiths. How do you find his unique traits?”

“People are the hardest to find traits in,” Su Wen said, seeing Yu Manyi gradually improving and becoming more willing to share his experience with her. “People wear clothes and follow etiquette; at first glance, the only differences are height, weight, gender, and age. When I first painted people, they all looked the same. But after painting more, I suddenly discovered the biggest difference between people.”

“What is it?”

“Animal nature.”

“Animal nature?”

“Yes, people are just animals wearing clothes. If you see people as just people, it’s hard to notice the differences. But if you see people as animals and find the animal that best matches their temperament, their unique traits become obvious.”

“Teacher Su, I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand because you haven’t met enough people yet. Once you meet more, you’ll naturally be able to tell what kind of animal nature people have. Like me—what animal do I look like to you?”

Yu Manyi stared at Su Wen for a long time and shook her head in frustration—no matter how she looked at Su Wen, he was just a person; she couldn’t see what animal he resembled.

Su Wen smiled and self-deprecatingly said, “One day I didn’t shave and looked in the mirror—I thought I looked like a pretty good-tempered goat.”

If he hadn’t said that, it would have been fine; but after he said it, Yu Manyi looked carefully and found Su Wen really did look a bit like a goat. Thanks to Teacher Su generously using himself as an example, Yu Manyi quickly grasped the idea.

“Look more around,” Su Wen finally told her, “the more you see, the more you’ll notice—some people are diligent and docile like oxen, some are agile and alert like cheetahs. Some girls are timid but clever, like sika deer, and some boys at first glance look like dogs… Everyone has a symbiotic beast in their heart.”

Yu Manyi smiled, while Su Wen seriously concluded for her: “To make people come alive in your paintings, find the animal nature within them.”That day, the teacher and student chatted idly—Yu Manyi remembered it well, but she had few chances to practice it. She had painted her younger sister during leisure time, and even painted Fang Qian while not understanding the English class, but she never captured the animal nature in them. Yet this portrait now was meant for the Yu family’s judgment. Her brushwork resembled Su Wen’s, and her imitations of every one of Su Wen’s works looked alike—but when she painted herself, it never “came alive.”

She had to find the animal nature in Song Qi.

What animal was Song Qi like?

Yu Manyi lifted her head and began observing Song Qi standing at the podium.

Suddenly, Yu Manyi felt Song Qi was somewhat unfamiliar; it seemed she hadn’t looked at him closely for a long time. Song Qi stood at the podium, hands resting on the lectern, bending his head to read formulas and theorems for the literacy class students. He probably feared Yu Manyi wouldn’t see him clearly, so his movements were very subtle—but Yu Manyi felt that when Song Qi stood still, he seemed even less “alive,” less matching the image she held of him.

Then what exactly was Song Qi like in her heart?

Yu Manyi found the Song Qi at the podium uninspiring and simply lowered her head, choosing not to look at him. Instead, she was more familiar with the Song Qi in her memories. She still remembered the first time she met Song Qi—when he visited Master Yu and lifted his head while drinking tea; from the second floor, she saw those deep black eyes. Or the second time, when he dragged her off the field ridge—what she first saw again was those deep black eyes...

What about besides the eyes?

Yu Manyi closed her eyes, forcing herself to think harder. The images in her mind were complex, memories pushing forward, until the final fixed image was the night he recovered from injury, climbing down from the wall, seen from behind.

Everyone has an animal nature, and so does Song Qi.

Before Yu Manyi’s eyes was utter darkness; within that darkness, the silhouette of a fluttering coat hem repeatedly appeared—the figure leapt lightly from the wall, graceful, not of this mortal world.

Suddenly, she understood.

Song Qi... was a bird that the human world could not cage.

…They called it a class, but no one was really paying attention to what Song Qi was teaching; everyone was waiting to see if Yu Manyi’s painting could match the one the Yu family brought. The arithmetic textbook was so boring it made people sleepy, and by the time Yu Manyi finished painting, many of the Yu family members waiting outside had actually fallen asleep, leaving Song Qi, who was teaching, feeling like a fishbone stuck in his throat.

He wanted to walk over and take a look at Yu Manyi’s work, but the portrait had quickly passed from Fang Qian’s hands to other students, and was finally snatched away by Steward Cao. Cao held open Yu Manyi’s new work in one hand and unfolded the portrait of Miss Yu in the other, comparing it with a few Yu family members who had just been woken up by his kicks.

“They can’t be called completely identical,” Steward Cao hesitated for a moment, then criticized.

“One paints a man, the other a woman,” Fang Qian crossed her arms, increasingly annoyed at Steward Cao, her tone extremely impatient, “Of course they’re different! You say copying isn’t hard, now you say they’re different—your Yu family really can’t stop looking for trouble, can you?”

Yu Manyi had focused intently painting all morning; it was her first time seriously painting a portrait. Her hands were trembling when she put down the brush. She drank a few sips of water, then came over with a calm expression.

“Steward Cao, anyone who understands painting can tell at a glance if these paintings are from the same hand,” she said. “May I ask—do you understand painting?”

Steward Cao lowered the hand holding the paintings, stubbornly replying, “I—I…”

He had come to embarrass these outsider students at the school, but now he felt a bit embarrassed himself. He didn’t understand painting, and although one portrait was male and the other female, they really seemed to be from the same artist. After a while of awkwardness, he had to amend his words, “I don’t understand painting, but our Master Yu does. When I show him this, our Yu family will make its own judgment.”

“Is just judging enough? Besides, anyone with eyes can tell without needing to judge,” Fang Qian raised her voice, “Miss Yu is a student in our literacy class. The course these days is intense, no class can be missed—your family should get Miss Yu back to class as soon as possible.”

After Fang Qian spoke, the surrounding students started loosening up in their discussions. Yu Manyi’s nerves finally eased from the previous tension. She heard a voice at a moderate volume say, “The Yu family is really something. Obviously, Miss Yu painted the picture herself, it’s not a big deal, but they insist on slapping a ‘secret engagement’ label on their own daughter and making a public scandal…”

“The Yu family always acts like this,” another said, “They locked the concubine in the attic before, and the news spread all the way to Shaoxing county. Plus, they made a scandal by catching Teacher Song, even making Shanghai newspapers—really embarrassing for our countryside…”

“Considering they’re respected gentry landlords here, I really disdain being associated with them…”

There were too many people, and no one could tell who said what. Once everyone started talking, everyone dared to speak out. Steward Cao’s face turned red then pale; he rolled up the two paintings one after another and hurriedly led the Yu family members away from the school. Fang Qian stood for a moment, let the students’ discussions simmer a bit longer, then clapped her hands and called out, “Alright, it’s time for English class, everyone back to your seats.”

Yu Manyi still had little energy to bother with the easel and paints. When she turned back, she saw the little postman actively helping her pack everything up. Miss Yu hadn’t come today, so the postman sat beside Yu Manyi after tidying her things, with a somewhat admiring attitude.“What are you doing?” Yu Manyi asked, puzzled.

“Manyi jie,” the little postman, who was a year younger and used to call her Miss Yu, suddenly switched to calling her “Manyi jie” today, “you’re amazing. The Yu family has been bullying everyone in the village, showing off and acting tyrannical. They even once forcibly collected rent from my big brother’s family. This is the first time I’ve seen them get beaten.”

“That’s nothing,” Yu Manyi said, “they still get their way in the end.”

The little postman shook his head, not quite agreeing with Yu Manyi.

“Anyway, Manyi jie, I really admire you today,” he said, “if you ever need me, just say so!”

Yu Manyi was baffled by his passionate words. Since Fang Qian had already started the lesson, she glanced at the little postman and thought of what Fang Qian once said: “Men are all fools.”

Painting had drained much of her energy, and the English lesson was hard to follow. After listening a little, she began to feel sleepy and eventually fell into a deep sleep. She woke up only when class was over. Yu Manyi drowsily opened her eyes and found that the spot next to her was no longer the yellow-green jacket of the little postman but a pale yellow dress. She suddenly sat up straight and truly saw Miss Yu smiling at her.

“Miss Yu!” Fortunately, the other students had already gone to eat, so her shout only drew a few scattered looks. Yu Manyi rushed over and hugged her shoulder; there was no need to say much about the morning’s events—Miss Yu understood perfectly.

“They didn’t hit you, right?” Yu Manyi suddenly let go, her expression tense. Miss Yu shook her head and lightly touched her knee, saying, “No, just had to kneel all night. But if it weren’t for what happened this morning because of you... it would have been bad.”

Yu Manyi felt a lingering chill in her heart. Neither of them brought it up, but they both knew that the Su Wen’s studio was probably still off-limits these days, maybe forever. Yu Manyi rested her head on the desk, feeling a little sad, thinking, maybe the portrait she did for Song Qi would be the last time she ever picked up a brush in her life?

Thinking that, she got back up.

“Miss Yu,” she asked, “what about my painting?”

“I brought it back,” Miss Yu said.

Yu Manyi’s eyes scanned Miss Yu’s desk but didn’t see it. Seeing this, Miss Yu quickly added, “But it’s not here with me. As soon as I got to the school, I gave it to Teacher Song.”Song Qi?

Yu Manyi blinked at Miss Yu, a little puzzled by his behavior. But since Song Qi had taken it, she wasn’t in a hurry—she could just ask for it after class.

Meanwhile, in the preparation room just a wall away from her, Song Qi had been studying his portrait for quite a while. Fang Qian, holding a basket of steamed buns, was starting to get impatient.

“Are you going to eat or not?” she asked. “After you finish, I need to return the basket.”

Ignoring Song Qi’s silence, Fang Qian took a deep breath and strode over, grabbing the portrait to inspect it again—the second time after his brief glance that morning.

“Don’t tear it,” Song Qi calmly warned.

Fang Qian also ignored him, focusing solely on the painting—

The person in the painting wore black clothes and had black eyes, holding a cup of tea, tilting his head slightly as he finished drinking. The image had nothing to do with how Song Qi usually stood in class. In the painting, he looked light and airy, like a black-feathered bird in flight at first glance.

“What’s wrong with this painting? Look, look, look,” Fang Qian asked. “I don’t even look in the mirror this long.”

“This painting was done the first day I went to the Yu family,” Song Qi explained.

Fang Qian still didn’t understand: “So?”

“So Yu Manyi remembered me that very first day at the Yu family.”

Fang Qian: “So…”"So your novels about free love," Song Qi said, "you still haven't read enough."

"So, Miss Yu," almost at the same moment Song Qi said this, Yu Manyi on the other side of the wall earnestly touched Miss Yu's hand back and warned, "You really shouldn't pursue free love. Free love is truly too dangerous."