Chapter 693: Haunting Heart Demon and the Serene Kiss (Part 3)

Perhaps.

If today he used that set of jade-colored brushes, the hard and cold touch might allow him to calm down successfully.

Or perhaps.

The precious old pen with a jade-like body might break under Gu Weijing’s unconscious force due to a lack of moisture and flexibility.

[Title: “Wisteria”]

[Chinese Painting Techniques: Level 4 Tier One (4902/5000)]

[Emotion: Simple Works]

…

[Title: “Wisteria”]

[Chinese Painting Techniques: Level 4 Tier One (4902/5000)]

[Emotion: Carefree]

…

[Emotion: Carefree]

…

[Emotion: Perfunctory]

[Emotion: Perfunctory]

[Emotion: Perfunctory]

“Calm down! Calm down! Damn it, calm down, calm down, okay!”

Gu Weijing forgot to continue reciting the painting mantra.

He stared blankly as the system panel’s evaluation shifted from [Simple Works] to [Carefree], then uncontrollably jumped again to [Perfunctory].

Perfunctory, perfunctory, perfunctory…

Those four words were like a curse that wouldn’t fade.

No matter how hard Gu Weijing painted, the system would coldly inform him.

The effort he poured onto the wisteria flowers only deserved the lowest evaluation of being perfunctory.

At this moment.

Gu Weijing clearly realized he truly could not continue painting like this.

To fuel a fire with wood, the wood must not exhaust, the fire must not extinguish.

His spirit was the flaming spark, and the wisteria before him was the fuel igniting the spark, roasting his thoughts and inspiration from inside out.

Koizumi Katsuko refused to use Gu Weijing as her daily practice model, as the girl wisely realized—

If the painting practice didn’t go well, it would seem like practicing poor moods onto Gu Weijing’s face, affecting their relationship.

Now, if he painted like this again.

Even the wisteria and the essence of Chinese Painting would become an anchor for Gu Weijing’s negative emotions, leading him into inferiority and self-doubt whenever he picked up a brush again.

Putting down the brush and admitting defeat, even though it meant giving up the heart of an artist, giving up the dream of becoming a great artist.

He could still be an artisan who relies on the system to stack skills, he could still be that Louis Troy.

Seriously thinking about it.

Louis Troy wasn’t bad, huh.

Though enduring a life sentence, at least he once garnered an award at the Chicago Biennale back in the day.

While becoming Elder Cao’s successor seems hopeless in this life.

But with Miss Sakai’s such good personality, maybe she wouldn’t resent him? Living off her wouldn’t be so bad, would it! Just muddling through like this, this life could slip by.

If he didn’t put down the brush, perhaps these negative emotions would spread to all fields of painting, and he would be like those PTSD-afflicted American soldiers who shudder at gunshots after returning from Afghanistan.

Picking up the brush, his mind would echo these irritating noises.

He couldn’t even become a skilled artisan anymore.

Yet Gu Weijing just couldn’t put down the brush, just…

Unwilling.

As if by holding the brush, he grasped a piece of his childhood dream’s sleeve, clutching it tightly, desperately pleading for it not to slip away.

Is there a one-thousandth possibility that, if heaven took pity, he could truly hold onto it?

What Gu Weijing held wasn’t hope, but despair.

Not only was the emotion gauge’s pointer locked firmly on the [Perfunctory] evaluation without the slightest shift, even the skills began to regress.

[Chinese Painting Techniques: Level 4 Tier One (4857/5000)]

[Chinese Painting Techniques: Level 4 Tier One (4632/5000)]

4321, 3532, 2613…

The experience points and techniques for his wisteria painting started to drop as if rowing against the current.

Dropped to 3000, 2000, 1000, eventually falling below Tier One, regressing to Level 3 Semi-Professional.

An artist’s painting technique naturally correlates with the painter’s emotional state.

When an artist creates, the work might exceed or fall beneath their technical level, both are normal.

Encounter extraordinary performances, yet also encounter poor performances, one can’t expect an artist distraught to the point of trembling to produce exquisite brushstrokes.

Gu Weijing shut down the system panel.

He didn’t successfully calm, but rather he had finally despaired.

A work of despair can equally shock the audience’s heart, like the Spanish painter Goya Lucientes’ dark grotesque “Saturn Devouring His Son.”

But a painter who despairs of his own skills can only produce exceedingly poor and faulty artworks.

For instance, the wisteria flowers below Gu Weijing’s hand twisting from numerous shivering colored dots.

“I beg you, I beg you Gu Weijing, I beg you to calm down, really I beg you.”

Gu Weijing thought despairingly.

And so, he genuinely calmed down.

In a literal sense.

A basin of ice-cold lake water was poured over his head.

Cooling yet piercing to the bone.

In Yangon’s thirty-five degree summer noon, such cool water made Gu Weijing feel a string within finally snap.

The brush beside him dropped freely.

Gu Weijing collapsed powerlessly.

He didn’t collapse onto the grass beneath but into a soft embrace.

“It’s okay, alright alright, let’s not think about it, it’s okay, it’s already okay…” Koizumi Katsuko kneeled on the grass, gently brushing his scalp with her fingertips, comforting him like a child.

Beside the girl was an empty water bucket.

“I’m sorry. Shengzi, I tried, I really really tried, but perhaps, I’m truly not someone who can play Manet’s Monet.”

Gu Weijing gazed blankly at the sky, repeatedly murmuring soft apologies.

“I’m sorry.”

He was defeated.

“It’s okay.” Koizumi Katsuko murmured softly.

“Miss? Mr. Gu, is he alright?” Uncle Ah Lai already approached, as he and the female bodyguard just realized something seemed off with Gu Weijing.

However, he wasn’t sure how to handle an artist’s psychological issues.

“You all leave here, immediately.”

Koizumi Katsuko said without raising her head, attentively pressing Gu Weijing’s face into her chest, wiping away the tears mixed with lake water on his cheeks.

Shengzi didn’t want Gu Weijing to appear so disheveled and frustrated, in front of outsiders.

“Is he physically unwell? Epilepsy? Do we need to call an ambulance?” The woman bodyguard rubbed her hands on her clothes and suggested. “Is that snot? I have tissues.”

“Get out! I told you all to leave! Can’t comprehend words.” Miss Shengzi angrily and rarely commanded rudely.

At that moment.

The female bodyguard suddenly realized.

The soft and always easygoing girl was a wealthy millionaire’s daughter.

When showing authority.

Shengzi could be very authoritative too, even freezing the atmosphere.

“I apologize, my mood isn’t good.”

After a moment of anger, Shengzi returned to normal, her tone softening, “Please leave for a while, oh take Jasmine with you, get her some food. She’s not suited to see Mr. Gu like this; when you return, I’ll have her Brother Gu unharmed and returned.”

The female bodyguard wanted to say something but was pulled away by Uncle Ah Lai.

Gu Weijing continued gazing blankly at the sky, indifferent to everything around him, as if it didn’t matter or he simply didn’t hear.

Koizumi Katsuko placed his face beside her leg, meeting his black pupils.

Gu Weijing’s eyes were lost, entirely devoid of focus.

Miss Shengzi didn’t avert her gaze, persistently staring, as if wanting to see until the sea dried up and the rocks crumbled.

For a long time.

Koizumi Katsuko gently nodded.

“What you said isn’t exactly wrong, you aren’t Manet’s Monet.”

Gu Weijing’s eyes blinked as if the last place in his heart shattered.

Koizumi Katsuko smiled instead.

“You aren’t Manet’s Monet; you’re my Gu Weijing. Koizumi Katsuko’s Gu Weijing.”

“Mr. Gu is so cute, I wouldn’t trade him for a Monet.”

Koizumi Katsuko softly kissed him.