CFHE Chapter 38.3

“Saturday morning?” Wen Yu said. “After the checkup, I can take you there.”

 

“Okay.”

 

As the weather turned cool, not just him but everyone liked to huddle in their seats. Perhaps for this reason, the atmosphere of discussing problems in the classroom was heavier than usual.

 

Fu Yuhan had missed a day of classes and had a headache looking at yesterday’s blank test papers. But he was very resilient. Having decided to catch up, he didn’t show the slightest impatience even facing test papers he couldn’t understand at all.

 

Midway, Ge Ran passed by, saw him working on test papers and asked a few questions, telling him he could ask her if he had problems.

 

Wen Yu… Wen Yu, who had watched the entire process, held back from saying a word.

 

However, he soon discovered that Fu Yuhan really wasn’t as much in need of help as he had imagined.

 

In just two days, this person had evolved from “completely clueless” to “able to categorize and organize knowledge blind spots.”

 

Although he still didn’t understand, he wasn’t completely ignorant.

 

It was like he had drawn a coloring game on a blank sheet of paper. Although the colors hadn’t been filled in yet, the framework was gradually taking shape.

 

At noon on Friday, Wen Yu watched Fu Yuhan walk to the office with his hands in his pockets.

 

The way he walked looked like he was going to pick a fight, but probably only Wen Yu knew he was actually going to ask questions.

 

Those were two very basic problems. Wen Yu could write at least four different solutions just by glancing at them.

 

What did it mean to take the long way around?

 

Fu Yuhan’s behavior was exactly that.

 

Tsk.

 

Fu Yuhan himself had no awareness of being looked down upon by his desk mate. He just went to ask questions at his own pace.

 

Yesterday at noon there weren’t many students in the office, but all the teachers were there, and they all expressed approval for his “turning back from the wrong path.”

 

His mood was a bit complicated.

 

In middle school, he had heard many compliments. Back then, he thought these teachers were incredibly boring—as long as students had good grades, they would praise them blindly regardless of their character or interests.

 

But having not heard such praise for a long time, when he heard it again, he unexpectedly found it quite nice.

 

Although he hadn’t decided to study hard for these compliments.

 

But for a moment, in these praises, he felt like he was gradually coming back to life.

 

Early Saturday morning, Fu Yuhan went to Wen Yu’s house as agreed.

 

Since they had arranged a time in advance, Wen Yu at least got up in the morning that day. Instead, it was Fu Yuhan who lacked energy.

 

When they met, Wen Yu was first stunned: “What did you do last night?”

 

“Drew pictures.” Fu Yuhan yawned.

 

“Do you need to work so hard…” Wen Yu was somewhat speechless as he locked the door and came out. “I saw you drawing quite well before?”

 

“When did you see me draw?”

 

Wen Yu paused, suddenly remembering that Fu Yuhan didn’t know he had accidentally flipped through his sketchbook on parent-teacher conference day.

 

“I glimpsed it when we were about to fight.” The topic changed so quickly that Wen Yu almost bit his tongue.

 

Fortunately, Fu Yuhan didn’t become suspicious and just said “oh.”

 

Clearly he was the one going for a follow-up, yet he brought even less stuff than Wen Yu, just a flat bag—when Wen Yu had taken him to the hospital for stomach pumping that day, he had helped him get a temporary medical record, and that bag of medical records had been sitting untouched at Wen Yu’s house. Today he was also responsible for bringing it out.

 

When he realized this, Wen Yu threw the stuff into Fu Yuhan’s arms: “Carry your own medical records.”

 

“Would it kill you to carry it?” Fu Yuhan pursed his lips.

 

“I’m frail and delicate.”

 

“…Bah.”

 

Wen Yu had arrived fairly promptly that day, plus Fu Yuhan himself had a good physical foundation, so the follow-up results were all normal. Wen Yu said nothing and took him by car to Fourth Brother’s studio.

 

The studio was in the same direction as the shooting location, but closer. The roads weren’t too congested at noon, so they arrived quickly.

 

“Fourth Brother.” Wen Yu started calling before entering. “I brought him over.”

 

Old Four had just woken up, wearing a tank top and shorts, his hair messy like it had been chewed by a dog. A solid yawn got stuck in his throat when he saw Wen Yu: “…Why did you come along too?”

 

“Can’t I come?” Wen Yu was baffled.

 

“No, no, cough cough, cough cough cough…” The yawn stuck in his throat made Old Four cough repeatedly, almost unable to catch his breath. “I, I’m just surprised you’d come?”

 

“Did I mention that Yong Rong was detained last night?” Wen Yu raised an eyebrow.

 

Old Four was stunned. Fu Yuhan was also surprised: “You didn’t say.”

 

“Well, I’m saying it now.” Wen Yu said as he pulled over a chair to sit down. “So I came along to take a look, just conveniently.”

 

Conveniently what?

 

Wen Yu didn’t say, and Old Four didn’t dare ask.

 

Fu Yuhan actually knew, but he wanted more to ask Wen Yu why he insisted on taking him to the hospital for a follow-up. However, some kind of intuition prompted him to keep his mouth shut.

 

Fourth Brother’s studio was quite large, probably nearly 200 square meters. The outer area had work tables, computers, and a meeting space; the inner area had a small photography studio, prop warehouse, and temporary rest room.

 

Fu Yuhan walked around.

 

He had an inexplicable fondness for this kind of work space that was messy yet orderly, and some of the photography props in the prop warehouse also interested him greatly.

 

Some walls had paintings hanging on them, from oil paintings to charcoal sketches, with four or five different painting styles at first glance. Seeing his curiosity, Old Four introduced them: “These are all painted by us in our spare time.”

 

Bei Lin came out of the rest room and said with a smile: “During the off-season when there are no photos to take, we paint here, and we even said that when we become famous someday, we’ll auction off our paintings.”

 

Fu Yuhan smiled slightly along with them.

 

“By the way, did you bring any of your own paintings?”

 

“I brought a sketchbook.” Fu Yuhan hesitated. “My previous sketches… my mom sold them as waste paper.”

 

This was actually a very sad thing, but unexpectedly Bei Lin burst out laughing: “Hahaha! After I finished the college entrance exam, my old paintings from high school were also sold by my mom. I was so angry I had a big fight with her.”

 

“What happened then?” Fu Yuhan asked.

 

“Then I told myself, ‘worst case, I’ll just paint them again.’ I thought I could definitely create better works in college than in high school.” Bei Lin smiled. “But when I graduated from college, I found I had accumulated too many paintings that were too heavy. I found it troublesome and sold them all myself.”

 

Fu Yuhan: “…”

 

Fu Yuhan: “You’re really something?”

 

Bei Lin laughed for a while before wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes.

 

“It’s mainly that the mindset is different, you know? When you paint to a certain stage, you’ll find that everything you painted before was garbage, and what you’re pursuing is no longer the paintings themselves, but other things on a consciousness level—I’ve already learned what I needed to learn, so those paintings are no longer important to me.”

 

“Right, right, I thought the same way back then.” At this time, another person Fu Yuhan hadn’t seen before came out from the inner room, probably also an assistant.

 

In the studio, Old Four was in his thirties, and the other assistants were all in their twenties. When talking about their student days, they were absolutely endless.

 

Fu Yuhan met everyone in the studio within ten minutes and also heard their “little stories about selling paintings.”

 

“But none of you are painting anymore in the end.” San Mao, the only one who hadn’t studied painting, yawned as he came out from inside.

 

“When life reaches a new stage, there are new pursuits. I’ve evolved.” Bei Lin said seriously. “For example, my life goal now is to make some money and then find a girlfriend.”

 

“Heretical statement.” An assistant named Cai Cai said seriously. “What nonsense are you talking about in a room full of gay guys?”

 

Fu Yuhan was stunned.

 

He had never deliberately hidden his sexual orientation, but had never discussed it with others either. This was the first time he realized he was sitting among a bunch of… “kindred spirits.”

 

He instinctively glanced at Wen Yu.

 

Amazingly, Wen Yu was also looking at him at that moment. Their eyes met, and he smiled at him.

 

The smile was very faint, but it looked much more genuine than his usual pretentious “30-degree smile.”

 

“So I’m the sole surviving straight guy in this group.” Bei Lin pretended to hit him. “Alright, we have a guest today, don’t scare the little brother.”

 

“…Not really, I’m not that timid.” Fu Yuhan was more interested in something else. “Do I look very gay?”

 

“I could tell at first glance.” Cai Cai said, pointing at Wen Yu. “Besides, when has Boss Wen ever brought a straight guy here?”

 

Fu Yuhan: “…”

 

So he was implicated by Wen Yu.

 

Wen Yu raised an eyebrow: “Are you drunk again? Have I brought people here before?”

 

“Well, saying you’ve never brought straight guys here isn’t wrong either,” Cai Cai looked quite aggrieved. “Aren’t all your friends gay?”

 

“Screw you.” Wen Yu laughed and cursed.

 

Fu Yuhan turned his head.

 

In his understanding, many of Wen Yu’s friends were clearly straight.

 

He didn’t know this Wen Yu who had “a bunch of gay friends.”

 

This was a Wen Yu he didn’t understand. Fu Yuhan guessed that not only him, but including Yang Fan, Chu Lei, Ma Gan, Pi Qiu… none of them understood either.

 

“Alright, alright, I still have two shoots this afternoon.” Old Four interrupted their chat and stood up. “Cai Cai, you’re free today, can you take care of Xiao Han?”

 

“Huh? What’s he here to do again?” Cai Cai was a bit slow to react. “Internship?”

 

“Pre-college entrance exam tutoring.” Bei Lin patted his shoulder and also stood up.

 

“Art?” Cai Cai looked at Fu Yuhan.

 

Fu Yuhan nodded: “Yes.”

 

“Oh, okay.”

 

“Then Xiao Han will follow him—our Teacher Cai was the provincial art joint examination first place back then, absolutely genuine.” Old Four said, looking down at Wen Yu. “What about you?”

 

“You do your thing.” Wen Yu raised his hand. “I’ll make myself at home.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Old Four was indeed a bit busy today. After speaking, he assigned work to various assistants, and everyone got busy together. Cai Cai stood up and led Fu Yuhan toward the warehouse: “There are drawing boards inside, let’s go in and talk.”

 

Fu Yuhan had only roughly toured around before, but being led by Cai Cai, he discovered there was more to the innermost area. The photography studio corners and the interior of the rest room had several places that could be used for painting, and there were even set-up easels left there.

 

“Have you studied painting before?” Cai Cai asked while walking.

 

“I’ve been looking at pictures and figuring out how to paint for several years,” Fu Yuhan said. “Never studied systematically.”

 

“Let me see your sketches.”

 

Fu Yuhan handed over his sketchbook.

 

Cai Cai flipped through a few pages: “Not bad.”

 

Although sketches were drawn quickly, they really showed one’s foundation. Fu Yuhan’s drawings showed skilled brushwork, just some areas requiring theoretical knowledge showed immaturity.

 

“Did you also figure out sketching by yourself?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What about color?”

 

“I’ve painted watercolors?”

 

“Never painted gouache, right?”

 

“Mm…”

 

Cai Cai took Fu Yuhan to the warehouse to find drawing boards, paper, and all the necessary art supplies, then brought him back to the easel in the corner of the photography studio to arrange today’s content.

 

“We don’t have plaster casts prepared here, so let’s find some still life for you to paint.” Cai Cai said. “You sharpen the pencils first, I’ll get a couple of suitable vases.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Fu Yuhan watched Cai Cai walk toward the outer room, his gaze falling on Wen Yu who had followed them in.

 

“What?” He felt Wen Yu’s expression seemed a bit strange.

 

“You showed him your sketchbook?”

 

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

 

“…Could you let me see it?”

 

Fu Yuhan handed it over.

 

At first, Wen Yu was surprised by his generosity.

 

But soon he discovered this wasn’t the one filled with drawings of Yang Fan.

 

…No wonder.

 

He had misunderstood. People who draw naturally shouldn’t have just one sketchbook.

 

He closed the album and was about to return it, but saw Fu Yuhan staring at him with an indescribably subtle expression.

 

“What are you thinking?” Wen Yu waved his hand.

 

“…Ah, nothing.” Fu Yuhan lowered his gaze and tore open the paper tape, sticking the sketch paper to the drawing board.

 

He was thinking about Wen Yu as a person, but couldn’t tell him.

 

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