Wednesday afternoon, the weather was excessively clear.
The sunlight was like golden honey, pouring down from overhead, rendering the sycamore leaves on campus semi-transparent and scattering a ground of dancing light spots.
The first outdoor landscape sketching class of the semester was located on the small lakeside hillside east of the school.
The view was open, offering a glimpse of the shimmering lake and the staggered red walls of distant school buildings. It was indeed a good spot.
Yan Yu, carrying a lightweight drawing board and a few paintbrushes, wheeled her manual wheelchair, following behind her classmates as she slowly moved to the designated edge of the hillside.
The manual wheelchair moved with some difficulty on the slightly uneven grassy slope.
Fine beads of sweat soon appeared at her temples, and her breathing grew a bit quicker, but her face showed no particular expression.
She simply found a corner under the shade of a tree, parked her wheelchair, and steadied it.
Not far away, on the flat ground by the lake, a small cluster of people had already gathered, with Jiang Muyun at its center.
The sunlight fell on her, making passersby unable to help but take a second look.
She was surrounded by three or four girls who usually loved to join in the fun, forming a small, palpable aura centered around her.
“Muyun, you’ve chosen such a great framing angle, the composition looks so comfortable at first glance!”
“Exactly, exactly! The sense of light and shadow here has so much depth. It’s obvious you’ve received systematic training abroad. It’s just different.”
“Much better looking than what Yan Yu paints. You’re definitely the best painter in our class!”
Listening to these words of praise, Jiang Muyun put down her charcoal pencil and gently wiped her temple with the back of her hand, though there was no sweat there.
She said modestly, “Oh, where? Don’t praise me like that. I just got back, my skills are rusty. And besides…”
She shifted the topic, her gaze seemingly unintentionally sweeping over the quiet, slender figure under the distant tree shade.
She said hypocritically, “Yan Yu… after all, she’s been painting for so long, her foundation is very solid. I still have a lot to learn from her.”
“Her?”
A round-faced girl pursed her lips, lowering her voice.
“She was just criticized by the teacher last time, and also…”
She didn’t finish the sentence, but the girls exchanged a knowing look, covering their mouths as they giggled softly.
Jiang Muyun gave a light “shush,” shooting them a reproachful look, though the smile at the corner of her mouth deepened slightly.
She picked up her charcoal pencil again, sketching deftly on the paper with an elegant and confident posture, enjoying the admiring or envious glances from those around her.
‘It seems my popularity and reputation in the class are pretty well established now,’ she thought.
‘To completely take over Yan Yu’s position in this class, the next step should be to get closer to another highly popular, and somewhat special, person in the class…’
Her gaze landed on the white-haired girl sitting alone on a large rock by the lake a few meters away, sketching.
Bai Yan’er, the school belle of the academy, the most popular among the opposite sex.
Bai Yan’er was wearing a simple white T-shirt today, her long hair casually draped.
Her profile, reflected in the lake light, was as beautiful as a painting.
She seemed completely immersed in her own world, oblivious to the noise around her.
Her pen tip moved quickly across her sketchbook, occasionally stopping as she squinted into the distance, her expression focused.
After finishing a quick sketch of the small scene in front of her and exchanging a few more words with those nearby, Jiang Muyun picked up her own sketchbook and walked gracefully toward Bai Yan’er.
“Bai Yan’er,” she stopped about two steps away from Bai Yan’er’s side, her voice gentle.
“You’re sketching here too? This angle is really well chosen. You’ve captured the rippling feel of the lake surface very well.”
Bai Yan’er’s pen tip paused.
She didn’t look up, only giving a faint “Mhm.”
Jiang Muyun’s smile didn’t falter; instead, she leaned in a bit closer, her gaze falling on Bai Yan’er’s drawing paper.
She extended a slender finger, pointing vaguely at a cluster of reeds by the lakeside on the drawing.
“Here… I think the contrast between light and shadow could be strengthened a bit more. The dark areas could be deepened slightly; it might give more of a three-dimensional feel. And the perspective of that small pavilion in the distance seems a tiny bit off…”
Her tone was mild, carrying a hint of instruction and suggestion, as if it were just a well-intentioned exchange between classmates.
Bai Yan’er finally stopped her pen.
She slowly turned her head to look at Jiang Muyun.
That flawlessly beautiful face showed little expression.
Her eyes were clear but carried a sense of detached coolness.
“Jiang Muyun,” Bai Yan’er spoke.
Her voice, like her person, was clean but held little warmth.
“What you just said about handling dark areas applies to the principles of still life sketching under frontal light. But right now, it’s side backlighting. The lake surface reflection is intense. If I deepen the dark areas as you suggested, it would disrupt the unity of the overall light feel, making the reed cluster seem突兀 and detached from the environment.”
Her speech was steady and logical.
Her gaze returned to her own drawing paper.
Her fingertip lightly brushed over the shadowed part of the reed cluster; the charcoal powder smudged, making the layers appear even richer and more natural.
“As for that pavilion,” she continued, still not looking at Jiang Muyun, “it’s two-point perspective. I deliberately made a visual adjustment to push it further back, emphasizing the openness of the lake surface. If I corrected it according to standard perspective, the picture would appear stiff and lose its current sense of spatial意境.”
After saying this, she picked up the kneaded eraser beside her, lightly erasing an extra line at the edge of the pavilion.
Her movements were crisp and efficient.
Then, she finally looked up again at Jiang Muyun, who had frozen in place, her face alternating between red and white.
Bai Yan’er’s tone was calm and even.
“Thank you for the suggestion. But Jiang Muyun, you just returned to the country. You might not be very familiar yet with some domestic sketching habits and the emphasis on certain expressive techniques. My suggestion… it’s best to observe more before speaking.”
The air around them seemed to still for a moment.
The expressions of the few girls who had been surrounding Jiang Muyun not far away were somewhat awkward, wanting to step forward but not daring to.
The smile on Jiang Muyun’s face was completely unsustainable now, shifting between green and pale.
Her fingers gripping the sketchbook tightened slightly, her knuckles turning white.
She opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to explain something.
But facing Bai Yan’er’s overly direct eyes, all the prepared, smooth, friendly words she had got stuck in her throat.
She hadn’t expected Bai Yan’er to be so blunt, and even less expected her to be so sharp and merciless professionally.
Those few lightly spoken sentences were more embarrassing to her than any sharp mockery, as if her earlier “guidance” was nothing but shallow showing off in front of an expert.
“…Is… is that so?”
Jiang Muyun forced a smile, her voice somewhat dry.
“Maybe… maybe I saw it wrong. Bai Yan’er, you’re right. I still need… to learn more.”
She almost hurriedly finished speaking, unable to maintain her composure any longer.
She gave Bai Yan’er a quick nod, then turned and walked away swiftly, her retreating back even carrying a hint of fleeing in disarray.
Returning to her original small group, facing her companions’ inquiring looks, she just forced a smile and shook her head, saying nothing more.
But the fingers holding her charcoal pencil trembled slightly from the force of her grip.
Under the shade of the tree, Yan Yu took in the entire scene by the lake.
She slowly regulated her breathing, which had become slightly rushed from moving her position.
She lowered her eyes, her gaze falling on her own blank drawing paper.
The charcoal pencil spun once in her fingertips, then descended, drawing the first steady line on the rough paper surface.
She could notice that while Bai Yan’er was speaking earlier, her gaze had been quietly looking in her direction.