Chapter 1: Hope

“Ling Zhan, Ling Zhan! Emergency help!”

In the pin-drop silence of the art studio, Sun Hong lowered his voice, whispering to Lin Zhan conspiratorially.

At first, Lin Zhan didn’t hear him clearly. Her ears were filled with the gentle crooning of an English singer, like a clear spring flowing over stones—transparent and refreshing.

She hummed along softly to the music, her toes tapping out the rhythm on the floor.

The pencil dust at her feet rose and fell with her movements.

Sun Hong was frantic, beads of cold sweat breaking out all over his body, even the soles of his feet turning icy.

In his daze, he could already hear Huang Chen’s laughter and footsteps, echoing in his ears like a haunting chant.

Damn… The Grim Reaper was about to come collect the homework…

He tapped Zheng Yi Mian, who was sitting between Lin Zhan and himself. Zheng Yi Mian was carefully sketching forms. Feeling his call, she finished drawing the last long line and then stopped, tilting her head to ask, “What is it?”

Her voice was slow and soft, like a lullaby that ends just in time, each syllable imbued with a delicate silkiness.

A girl raised in a water town, she had fair skin, a soft voice, delicate features, and a particularly sweet smile.

Sun Hong quickly got to the point: “How many sketches do you have left to finish?!”

Zheng Yi Mian slowly counted the sheets of paper under her sketchpad. To Sun Hong, her pace was as sluggish as Flash from Zootopia .

He wanted to shout: We’re in hot water here! Can we hurry up?!

After finishing her count, Zheng Yi Mian pursed her lips. “Just one more.”

Sun Hong: “And Lin Zhan?”

Zheng Yi Mian: “She’s fast. She finished ages ago.”

Sun Hong extended a finger but hesitated now. “Uh… I still have…”

No need for him to elaborate. Having painted together for so long, Zheng Yi Mian already knew what he was thinking.

She placed her pen on the sketchpad and nudged Lin Zhan’s arm.

Lin Zhan was fair-skinned, and so was Zheng Yi Mian. Their close friendship was often praised by others: “You two standing together are blindingly white.”

The only difference was that Lin Zhan glowed with a natural radiance, while Zheng Yi Mian had a subtle hint of pink in her complexion.

Whether in class, at school, or when they went out together, their heads always turned.

Only then did Lin Zhan catch the signal. She set down her charcoal pencil, brushed off the charcoal dust from her hands, and removed her earphones.

“What’s up?”

Zheng Yi Mian turned to Sun Hong: “Sun Hong couldn’t finish his sketches and wants your help.”

Lin Zhan sat at the far end of the row, next to a table stacked with drawing materials.

Leaning her elbow on the table, she used Huang Chen’s standard tone to question him: “How many times has this happened now?”

“Second time, second time…” Sun Hong bowed repeatedly. “This one’s really tough. Please help me out.”

Seeing Lin Zhan unmoved, he pulled out his ace card: “One week of dinner runs for you and Zheng Yi Mian—I’ll do the legwork.”

Painting required uninterrupted stretches of time. By the time students went down to eat dinner, those with high standards for their work were often still refining details, such as Lin Zhan and Zheng Yi Mian.

At times like these, camaraderie became especially important.

How to cultivate camaraderie?

For them, it meant helping others improve their drawings. In return, others would bring them food.

Lin Zhan held up two fingers: “Two weeks.”

“Deal!” Sun Hong immediately agreed, handing over his sketchpad and reference photo.

Sun Hong’s sketches were indeed a sorry sight.

Lin Zhan, being good friends with him, spoke tactfully but still wanted to knock some sense into him: “Look at how many times you’ve erased this hand, and it still looks this bad. You need to practice more copying. Otherwise, what will you do during the joint exam? There won’t be any Old Huang, or me and Yi Mian to teach you.”

The joint exam referred to the art college entrance exam, usually held in December, followed by the regular college entrance exam.

Sun Hong stood beside her, shamelessly setting a flag: “I’ll try harder next time…”

“This one’s beyond saving. Even fixing it won’t help,” Lin Zhan said. “I’ll redraw it as an example.”

Sun Hong was naturally delighted: “Thanks, goddess, you’re the best.”

Lin Zhan tore off the previous sketch and set it aside, smoothing out the paper before starting her demonstration.

“First, draw the face. For middle-aged men, emphasize the cheekbones. Also, make sure the proportions of the three sections and five eyes are accurate. Add layers to the hair, grouping them like this…”

Between her slender, pale fingers, a sharpened charcoal pencil moved fluidly across the paper.

Soon, she finished the head.

What needed emphasis was emphasized; what needed softening was relaxed.

With solid foundational skills and a deep understanding of human anatomy, Lin Zhan fluently and precisely sketched the necklines of the figure.

It was like a fish flapping its tail, gliding through azure waters.

Her technique was effortless here. After sketching the shoulder lines, she moved on to the upper arm muscles.

Sometimes pressing hard, using bold, strong lines to outline firm muscles; sometimes relaxing her wrist, using lighter, finer lines to depict folds in clothing.

Upon closer inspection, the tension and direction of the folds varied subtly.

With just a few strokes, she captured the details perfectly, showcasing her versatile brushwork.

Her lines were clean and decisive, smooth and unhesitant.

After finishing the intricate weaving of shoelaces, the sketch was complete.

Sun Hong glanced at the clock—it had only taken fifteen minutes, half the allotted time for the joint exam, yet the detail was exquisite…

Lin Zhan: “Short on time, so I just whipped it up.”

Sun Hong: “...”

Lin Zhan: “Did you see how I handled the hands?”

Lin Zhan demonstrated the hands again for Sun Hong. When she stopped, Sun Hong silently marveled inwardly.

Her skill was truly divine…

Without further ado, Sun Hong eagerly took back his sketchpad with both hands: “Thank you, Sister Zhan! I’m going back to finish my homework!”

Lin Zhan nodded and put her earphones back on: “Go ahead.”

Not long after, class ended. After everyone ate, it was time for the afternoon break.

Lin Zhan packed her sketchpad and told Zheng Yi Mian: “I’ll take some time during lunch to visit Yishui Street for new painting inspiration.”

Zheng Yi Mian glanced outside the window: “It’s so hot. Did you get permission?”

Lin Zhan nodded: “Yes, I cleared it with Old Huang. Yishui Street shouldn’t be too hot, right?”

///

At noon, the sun blazed mercilessly.

Intense, scorching waves surged through the city center, as if melting and peeling away layer by layer of steel and concrete skyscrapers.

On this drowsy, sweltering afternoon, even birds refrained from chirping. The entire city sank into a resigned silence. This road saw few passersby and even fewer sounds.

A bead of sweat rolled down Lin Zhan’s cheek, tracing a winding path along the curve of her face.

A crystalline droplet hung at the tip of her chin.

With a soft “plop,” it landed on the back of Lin Zhan’s hand.

She sighed faintly and wiped her sweat with a tissue.

If it weren’t for the local magazine and art exhibition collaboration in W City, where outstanding works could be displayed in an art gallery, allowing her to see the gap between herself and professional artists, she wouldn’t have bothered participating.

For this competition, she had prepared extensively, even venturing to Yishui Street for inspiration.

Lin Zhan’s style was unique—her compositions leaned toward darker, grayer tones, unsuitable for exams but perfect for winning awards due to her distinct personal style.

Looking at those who reached the pinnacle of their fields, it wasn’t necessarily because they were exceptionally talented but because they were irreplaceable in their industry.

Lin Zhan scrutinized her canvas.

The large color blocks were mostly laid out, dominated by shades of cyan-gray, exuding a weathered texture.

Ruined structures and azure lake water blended harmoniously under her brush, forming a striking contrast. Lin Zhan knew she needed an extremely tranquil mindset to continue.

With her current heat-induced agitation, she couldn’t create such a composed piece.

Who would have thought that to better capture the scene, she’d come to the demolished Yishui Street for inspiration?

Indeed, she now faced ruins reduced to rubble, but her previously calm state of mind had vanished.

...

As she sat there at a loss, she suddenly heard a sound.

Someone was coming.

Under the glaring sunlight, the approaching figure appeared yellowed by the light.

He wore a simple short-sleeved shirt, his arms sleek and well-defined. His skin, bathed in sunlight, gleamed with a glossy, fine texture.

The wind rushed in from behind him, playfully accentuating his lean waistline while lifting his shirt, fluttering it forward.

Even from afar, Lin Zhan could clearly sense his impressive height.

She squinted instinctively, wanting to admire him closely. Rare to find someone with long legs and a nine-head proportion.

As the person approached, she unconsciously set down her brush.

Being in the aesthetics field, Lin Zhan never forgot certain breathtaking moments in her life.

This was one of them.

His smooth black hair swayed in the breeze, the tips brushing gently against his finely shaped ears.

With a high nose bridge, tightly pressed lips, and downcast eyes while walking, Lin Zhan could see his thick, curled lashes clearly.

Seemingly aware of her gaze, he paused briefly before looking up at her.

It was a fleeting moment, as if something struck her heart in the instant he raised his eyes—

Lin Zhan felt as though an arrow pierced her heart.

His eyes were deep, like scenery seen only in the depths of the ocean—making one involuntarily hold their breath, heart racing.

A profound blue, quiet, reserved, and cold, yet with a hidden turbulence beneath.

It made one want to delve deeper instinctively.

The previous heat dissipated, replaced by another kind of restlessness.

Lin Zhan sensed that the tranquility she desperately sought existed within him.

She set down her sketchpad and noticed the boy had already walked several steps ahead. She hurried to catch up.

Following him for a long stretch, the smell of everyday life grew stronger. Lin Zhan leaned on her neck, lamenting inwardly.

How much longer would this beacon of hope lead her?

With a subtle intention, Lin Zhan didn’t follow too closely, ensuring only that the “beacon of hope” remained within her sight.

The “beacon of hope” turned into a corner. When Lin Zhan caught up, she found it was a narrow alley, barely wide enough for one person.

At the entrance, a large stone blocked the way.

Without suspicion, Lin Zhan thought nothing of it. Seeing the figure moving farther away, she panicked inexplicably and quickly bent down to move the stone.

Strong as she was, moving the stone was as easy as catching fish in a barrel.

But ahead, Shen Xi’s figure faltered.

Many girls had tried to secretly follow him. Whenever he noticed, he’d lead them here, block the alley with a prepared stone, and circle back home.

Though troublesome, it was effective.

Most girls, upon seeing the stone, would kick it a couple of times in frustration before leaving angrily.

Feeling the person behind him effortlessly move the stone and then lightly clap their hands, Shen Xi felt a throbbing pain in his temples.

Rubbing his temples, he swallowed the question, “How did you manage to move it?”

He stopped, opened his mouth, and turned to the slender figure behind him—

“You’ve been following me for so long. Don’t you have class this afternoon?”