The Versatile Master Artist

Koizumi Katsuko nodded, reciting the agreement she had with her mother.

”I mentioned to you over the phone before, my mom had someone slightly renovate the room. I think it’s pretty good, what about you?” The girl tilted her head.

”It’s certainly great. Looks like I’ve gained from our dear Koizumi’s glory, living off you.” Gu Weijing glanced around the meticulously renovated room, joking slightly.

He shifted his gaze to Jasmine next to him.

The little girl was staring at the tablet screen on the windowsill, almost as tall as she was, holding a paper cup with half a cup of coffee in her hands.

Coffee was a rare commodity in the orphanage.

This was probably Jasmine’s first time trying such a drink; regardless of whether she liked it or not, it was at least novel to her.

The little girl hesitated to finish it all at once and instead licked it slowly like a puppy.

”I don’t know if caffeinated drinks are good for someone her age, so I added half a spoon of saccharin and a little milk,” Koizumi Katsuko turned her face sideways, explaining.

When she was making coffee for herself, the little girl didn’t cry or make a fuss, just watched Katsuko expectantly, her fingers intertwined.

Miss Sakai couldn’t resist that.

Her heart melted under the little girl’s gaze, so she let her have a taste.

”Just one cup for today, you’re still young. When I visit again, I can bring you freshly squeezed juice,” Koizumi Katsuko said, patting Jasmine’s forehead.

Gu Weijing asked Jasmine how she was feeling about starting elementary school recently and let her go off to play.

After a brief conversation,

the studio lapsed into silence.

Gu Weijing moved to the side, prepared his painting tools, and secured a new linen canvas on the easel.

He and Koizumi Katsuko weren’t the kind of couple who needed to be together all the time; both quickly settled into doing their work quietly.

Koizumi Katsuko began to complete the unfinished piece ”Old Church” she had stopped midway a few days ago.

Meanwhile, Gu Weijing started on his ”Sunshine Orphanage (No.3)”.

This time, as usual, he began with pencil sketches, then used fast-drying paint for the base, and finally added details over that.

Having painted it before,

Gu Weijing was well aware of the painting process and its challenges, now proceeding step-by-step, overcoming obstacles bit by bit.

Sometimes,

painting was like solving physics problems, requiring repetitive practice.

The only difference was, what he was doing now might resemble the national team questions for the Physics Olympiad.

Ordinary students, even top students, who hadn’t learned advanced techniques, probably couldn’t even understand the questions.

Although Gu Weijing was definitely at the ”god of learning” level among his peers, repeating the ”fusion painting” problem was still not easy.

This was the third time painting it,

and Gu Weijing wanted more than a mere replica of the previous version.

He needed to see progress.

Could he refine some details more this time? Could he make the subtle gaps and roughness between colors less noticeable?

Even if the painting technique hadn’t fundamentally changed,

these small changes could accumulate, significantly enhancing the immediate visual impact of the painting.

If nothing else, painting the same piece a hundred times, luck would bring about a few exceptional renditions.

When the technique improved, painting a piece the artist was already familiar with would only add to its excellence.

Since Gu Weijing wanted to see change, this painting process was still far from easy.

Besides gaining some familiarity with his strokes, the pressure still surged over him like a tide from the tip of his brush.

Time slowly flowed by like this.

Soon,

a slight sheen of sweat reappeared on his forehead.

”It seems using the brush this way might be a bit difficult for you right now. Mr. Gu, may I offer a small suggestion?”

As he put his brush into the cleaning jar, Gu Weijing felt a warm, soft body press against his back from behind.

Miss Sakai had finished her own copying and was watching his drawing over his shoulder.

She quietly observed for a few minutes,

and keenly noticed the struggle in Gu Weijing’s painting process.

Katsuko tossed her hair back.

”Of course, if you feel I’ve disrupted your thoughts, please tell me. It’s normal; everyone has different painting habits. Many people hate being disturbed while painting.”

Koizumi Katsuko smiled gently.

As a fellow art student, Katsuko had learned a lot from her parents’ interactions since childhood.

She knew that the smart way to interact with an artist lover was certainly not to fuss over them while they were painting.

”Darling! Have a glass of water!”

”You’ve been painting for twenty minutes now; take a break.”

”Let’s start a mobile game together!”

”Let’s discuss where to eat dinner tonight.”

”You idiot, you only know how to paint and don’t care about me.”

These actions, thought to show love and care, only raised the frustration levels of someone whose creative process was interrupted.

In the heat of the moment, it might not matter.

But as time went on, it would surely lead to arguments, whether it was the man or woman involved.

Her father, Professor Yajima, when immersed in creativity, would skip meals and not come home, sitting in front of his easel all night, eating sweets and junk food when hungry.

His record was 29 donuts in one night.

No matter how dissatisfied Mrs. Sakai might have been, she tolerated it in silence.

At most, she would scold him after he finished painting and woke up, replacing all the donuts in the studio with gluten-free, sugar-free versions.

The companionship that art creators truly needed was brainstorming for inspiration and supporting each other on the creative journey.

Helping their partner break free from mental constraints was far better than serving them a thousand cups of hot tea.

Miss Sakai continued to quietly focus on the canvas in front of her, finally seeming to have an idea.

She waited for Gu Weijing to change his brush before gently speaking up.

”Katsuko, do you have any good ideas?”

Gu Weijing’s eyes brightened as he wanted to turn his head: ”If you want, I can explain my painting ideas to you.”

”No need to look at me, just focus on your painting.”

Koizumi Katsuko patted Gu Weijing’s shoulder,

and wiped the few drops of sweat from his forehead with a tissue, speaking softly, ”You don’t need to tell me the details; sometimes stepping outside familiar ideas can bring better insights.”

”When my dad was creating, no one dared to disturb him. But I liked to linger around him as a kid, sharing my thoughts. My father found that although it was mostly child’s chatter, having an extra perspective sometimes sparked new ideas.”

”I notice you seem to be focusing on the edges of highlights, hoping they transition more smoothly with the surrounding blocks of color. Am I wrong in understanding your goal?”

Koizumi Katsuko asked.

”You could say so.”

Gu Weijing nodded.

What he most wanted was to eliminate the discord in the painting.

The discord arose largely due to the conflict between the detailed, high-contrast highlights characteristic of Western painting and the natural, shadowless color transitions of Chinese painting.

Koizumi Katsuko didn’t know the details of the New Style Painting technique.

However, she was much more naturally talented than Old Wu, and observing Gu Weijing paint from up close,

she keenly captured the crux of the problem in a few minutes.

”My brush technique isn’t strong enough.”

Gu Weijing admitted honestly.

Lang Shining could use his clever brush control to smoothly handle these difficulties.

He hadn’t mastered that skill yet.

That’s why Gu Weijing thought, maybe once he advanced his sketching and Chinese painting skills, he could overcome this discord.

Koizumi Katsuko, however, had a different idea.

”Mr. Gu, have you ever considered changing your painting tools?” the girl asked softly.