Chapter Forty-Eight Gu Zhou

"That was clearly taking pictures, and more likely, at her," Sheng Jiaoyang raised an eyebrow.

The masked man not far away smiled at her, then walked away to take pictures of other scenery.

"Oh, just a tourist."

Sheng Jiaoyang didn't pay much attention. She strolled along the riverbank, and when it was lunchtime, she went into a restaurant on the riverbank for a leisurely lunch. After resting for a while, she continued to enjoy the scenery of the Tiber River.

Walking onto the Ponte Sant'Angelo, she saw a young man sketching. She went over and saw him painting an angel statue, stopping to watch for a while.

Seeing the young man stop painting, she stepped forward and asked, "May I borrow your tools?"

Seeing someone painting made her own artistic urges kick in.

The young man turned and looked her over, then handed her his painting tools without much hesitation.

"Thank you!" Sheng Jiaoyang thanked him and unceremoniously borrowed the young man's tools to start painting.

On the blank paper, outlines began to appear, first scattered here and there, seemingly without any clear structure. However, as she connected the fragmented dots with a single stroke, an angel statue emerged on the paper.

The young man initially looked serious, as if regretting lending his tools, but upon seeing this stroke of genius, his eyes widened in astonishment. Then he noticed that the other person's hands hadn't stopped; they were still enriching the space on the paper.

Slowly, a chibi-style angel appeared beside the realistic angel statue, resembling a father and son. This little angel tilted its head, gazing at the solemn angel statue with curiosity and bewilderment, its cuteness melting hearts.

The young man's mouth gaped open in surprise, but fearing to disturb the person still outlining, he swallowed his words.

Finally, the slender, pale hand holding the paintbrush moved to the lower right corner, as if to sign its name. Just as the brush tip was about to touch the paper, it paused and moved away.

"What's wrong? Why didn't you sign it?" the young man couldn't help but ask. He could tell that this girl, who looked even younger than him, was a skilled and experienced young painter.

Sheng Jiaoyang tilted her head, replying with a hint of helplessness, "Someone spent a million to buy out my pen name."

"What? Why would you do that? Are you short of money?" The young man couldn't understand it at all. A young painter with such talent shouldn't be the type to have their pen name bought out for such a small amount of money.

Because that guy was a formidable opponent, and she couldn't defeat him for the time being, so she had to accept it. But she was indeed very short of money.

Sheng Jiaoyang smiled, put down her brush, and stood up to say to the young man, "Thank you for your tools. If you like this painting..."

"Can I have it?" A voice suddenly interrupted her.

Sheng Jiaoyang turned her head and saw a face covered by a mask. The eyes were quite beautiful, as black as ink, with arched eyebrows, and the eyes seemed to be filled with stars, very captivating.

“I don’t care, the paper is his, you should ask him,” Sheng Jiaoyang said, pointing to the young man.

The man turned to the young man and said sincerely, “I really like this painting, can I have it? Or can I exchange it for something else?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the young man shook his head, “I also like this painting very much, I have nothing to exchange for it.”

“Oh, that’s a pity.” Although the man said it was a pity, there was no disappointment in his eyes.

The young man began to pack up his tools to leave, and before leaving, he thanked Sheng Jiaoyang solemnly. Having just witnessed the entire process of painting this painting, he felt he had benefited greatly, as if a window to his mind had been opened.

Sheng Jiaoyang nodded, waved goodbye to the young man, glanced at the man standing still beside her, and turned to walk back to the riverbank.

It was almost evening, and in the white pointed tents along the riverbank near the railing, many people were seated, ordering their favorite drinks and waiting for night to fall.

Sheng Jiaoyang also found a seat near the railing, ordered a glass of wine, and sipped it slowly, feeling extremely relaxed.

"May I sit here?" A somewhat familiar voice sounded beside her.

Sheng Jiaoyang saw the masked man who had appeared before her for the third time today. Her eyebrows twitched, her chin slightly raised, and she lazily replied, "Please, go ahead."

The man sat down, placed his camera on the table, and removed his mask.

He was a very handsome man. Sheng Jiaoyang

glanced at him and then looked away.

"Excuse me, are you Chinese?" the man suddenly asked in fluent Mandarin.

Sheng Jiaoyang looked at him and replied, "Yes." She also replied in Mandarin.

"Then are you of Chinese descent?" the man asked, his eyes showing some interest.

"No, I am Chinese."

She clearly distinguished between Chinese and people of Chinese descent. Chinese refers to all people with Chinese ancestry, while people of Chinese descent only refers to foreigners with Chinese ancestry. Her nationality had never changed; no matter where she ate or lived, her roots were always in China.

"You speak Italian very well," the man praised.

"You're not bad either."

"I'm Gu Zhou," the man suddenly said.

Sheng Jiaoyang blinked and said "Oh."

"It seems you really don't recognize me." The man chuckled.

Judging from his tone, it would be normal for him to know him, right? Sheng Jiaoyang carefully re-examined the man.

"Do you remember me?" He smiled.

"No," Sheng Jiaoyang replied honestly.

"Your answer makes me doubt if you're even Chinese." Seeing that she genuinely didn't recognize him, Gu Zhou couldn't help but say, "Haven't you seen any of my movies?"

Movies? Hearing this, Sheng Jiaoyang seemed to vaguely remember; she seemed to have indeed heard the name "Gu Zhou."

Just then, her phone rang. Sheng Jiaoyang took out her phone.

"Hello?"

"Xu Jiaojiao, don't play outside anymore, come back early." Zhuo Yiyan's voice came from the phone.

Sheng Jiaoyang responded and hung up.

"I'm leaving now." She picked up her small backpack, said goodbye to Gu Zhou, and left.

Gu Zhou chuckled. This was the first time he had encountered a girl who didn't ask for his autograph or a photo and didn't even recognize him. He hadn't encountered this kind of treatment since he became famous.

He took out his phone and watched the short video he had recorded earlier. To be honest, he hadn't intentionally followed her, but he had just bumped into her while strolling around and happened to see her drawing. He had habitually turned on his video, and thanks to this habit, he had been able to save that magical moment.

It's truly hard to imagine that with just one stroke, a whole mess of sand was transformed into a painting. The little angel in the background elevates the entire work, adding a vibrant and lively touch. The angel statue is no longer just a rigid and uninteresting figure; seeing this painting instantly sparks endless imagination.

He uploaded the video to his Weibo account, writing:

"Today I met a little girl from China by the Tiber River, and I was instantly captivated by her painting. I was hoping that if she recognized me, I could ask her to give me a painting, but she didn't recognize me at all (sad face)~"

His Weibo post quickly garnered a flood of likes and reposts.

Comments were also overflowing.