Chapter 79: Learning to Draw

Returning from Chen Jingle’s house, Chen Qiyun ran off to tease the two cats at her home.

The cats at her grandpa’s house were a bit ugly. No, they were very ugly! Both were tuxedo cats, but they lacked the typical predominant black coloring and well-proportioned faces. Instead, they looked as if they had been halfway dyed when the ink ran out, leaving uneven black spots scattered across their bodies.

One of them had a blotchy face, resembling the traitors in old war dramas who wore two square medicinal plasters on their cheeks. It was hideous beyond belief. The other had a half-black head, an almost entirely white body, and absolutely no tail. Both were incredibly skinny with dull coats, nowhere near as majestic as the big, fat cat at Chen Jingle’s house.

Chen Qiyun couldn’t understand how a cat could be this ugly. Oh, and they didn’t even have names.

For village cats, not having a name was the norm. After all, their lives were considered cheap. If they died in some random corner one day, no one would care. At most, the owner would curse a few times, feeling a bit of pity that the household had lost a good mouser. That was it.

Chen Qiyun was somewhat excited. She used the two phrases of cat language Chen Jingle had taught her to communicate with the pair.

“MEOW-YOWL!” (Hello.)

Sure enough, both cats reacted. They looked at Chen Qiyun in unison, though they didn’t dare approach. However, before she could utter the second phrase, her grandma said unhappily, “What are you meowing about over there? Stay away from the cats, be careful they don’t scratch you. If you get scratched, you’ll have to go get shots.”

Chen Qiyun fell silent. She stood up, tossed her hair back, and said, “Got it.”

In a way, her grandma wasn’t wrong. By staying away from the kittens, she naturally wouldn’t be in danger of getting scratched. Rabies vaccines cost hundreds of yuan, and there were indeed instances in the village of kids having to go to the hospital for shots after being swiped by a paw. If she cost the family hundreds of yuan for no reason, her mom would definitely scold her to death.

Her cat language study plan had suffered a setback right at the very beginning.

Back in her room, Chen Qiyun thought for a moment before sending a message to Li Beixing. “Teacher Li, do you want to learn cat language?”

Li Beixing quickly replied, “What would you learn that for?”

“To communicate with kitties, of course!”

“You know how?”

“Of course!”

“Heh heh.”

Seeing those two dismissive words, Chen Qiyun grew angry. “I really do!”

Even though she only knew two phrases, that still counted as knowing it. It was exactly the same logic as daring to claim she knew English despite constantly failing her English exams. Her teacher had said that when traveling abroad, as long as one knew a few simple words and used hand gestures, foreigners would be able to piece together their meaning. Therefore, knowing two phrases meant she knew the language. The logic was flawless.

Li Beixing replied, “Focus on learning English properly first. Cat language isn’t on our exams.”

Chen Qiyun immediately deflated. She was right; exams didn’t test cat language.

“It would be great if there was a cat school where the principal and teachers were all kittens, and we humans could attend as exchange students!” Chen Qiyun let her imagination wander.

Returning to reality, she texted Li Beixing again. “Okay, actually I only know two phrases, but my brother knows it! The cats understand the cat language he speaks. He’s too amazing!”

Although she never said it out loud to his face, she deeply admired and worshipped Chen Jingle. In her eyes, he seemed capable of absolutely everything. She wondered, “How can a person be this amazing!”

Li Beixing, on the other hand, was left slightly speechless. Why didn’t you just say the cat your brother raised could do somersaults and fly a fighter jet? She knew Chen Jingle was knowledgeable about many things, but claiming he understood literally everything was a bit of a stretch.

After all, human energy is limited. It is difficult enough for an ordinary person to master even one skill, and the vast majority of people only ever stay at the beginner stage. Only those with outstanding talent who successfully discovered their calling could reach heights in a certain field that ordinary people couldn’t hope to achieve.

The tragedy was that most people could spend their entire lives without ever finding out where their true talent lay. Chen Jingle’s talent in calligraphy was undoubtedly stronger than most, yet he didn’t seem particularly passionate about it. It felt like a waste, making people feel it was a terrible pity.

Thinking of Chen Jingle, Li Beixing lost all desire to sleep. She tossed and turned, pondering over many things, ultimately growing more distressed the more she thought about it.

She could only let out a long sigh. “This indecisive personality of mine is really… I give up!”

In the afternoon, the sun blazed fiercely outside.

Chen Jingle didn’t even want to step out of his room. He moved his rolling snack cart and the lemonade from the fridge entirely into his bedroom. He had finished reading An Outline of National History, and Logic of Politics was making his head throb. He wanted to do some entertaining studying to relax his brain.

After mulling it over, he decided to learn how to paint. Since ancient times, calligraphy and painting had always been inseparable. Since he had already learned calligraphy, picking up painting next was perfectly reasonable.

There are many types of painting. Based on tools, materials, and techniques, they can be broadly divided into two major categories: Chinese and foreign. Ink wash painting, commonly known as traditional Chinese painting, ranges from basic ink to advanced colored ink, encompassing everything from freehand expressionism to strict realism. Then there are oil painting and sketching, which came from the West.

Considering that one should start learning with what interests them the most, Chen Jingle was primarily drawn to sketching and ink wash painting.

His interest in sketching lay in the fact that it didn’t require much preparation. As long as he had paper and a pencil or ballpoint pen, he could draw. Whether on the street, on the subway, or in a cafe, whether walking or standing, as long as he wanted to, he could put pen to paper.

Chen Jingle had previously watched videos of people casually sketching portraits of random strangers on the subway. Such spontaneous creations could bring joy to someone for an entire day, or even several days. For the rest of their lives, whenever the recipients looked at those drawings, they would probably recall that beautiful afternoon. It was a very meaningful thing to do.

As for his interest in ink wash painting, it stemmed from how traditional Chinese paintings often appeared to be freehand expressionism but were actually highly realistic representations of nature. Like the setting sun casting its final rays upon the water, rendering half the river emerald green and the other half crimson red. Or like the twilight glow soaring alongside a lone wild duck, with the autumn waters sharing the exact hue of the vast sky.

This kind of artistic conception could perhaps only be truly appreciated by the Chinese people. Romantic! It was truly romantic to the extreme!

Misty rain, drifting snow, negative space, window framing, floating light… Such traditional Chinese aesthetics being presented in arts like painting, calligraphy, and architecture was incredibly pleasing to the eye. If he could learn and inherit a thing or two, it would mean a massive improvement in his overall personal cultivation.

Therefore, he had to learn how to paint.

As for how far he could progress, that would depend on his personal talent. He didn’t have very high ambitions. If his painting skills could one day reach half the proficiency of those corporate bosses “painting pies in the sky” to make empty promises to their employees, it would be more than enough. By then, he could shamelessly claim that he had mastered the art.

Chen Jingle decided to start with the relatively simpler art of sketching first.

He prepared himself in two ways. One was to view a large number of works by master artists to improve his aesthetic taste. This would help him clearly define what constituted an excellent piece so he would have a general standard in mind.

The other was to study the theory. Being pragmatic, he needed to grasp the basic concepts of painting before considering anything else.

A nine-story tower begins with a pile of earth. Even with a powerful system assisting him, he still needed to start from the basics. If his foundation wasn’t solid, it would be easy to run into problems when trying to progress further later on.

Having lived for thirty years, hadn’t he suffered enough losses from making that exact mistake?