TLLKTBD CH 25

Chapter 25: Picking Up the Paintbrush Again

Yunyuan Studio was connected to Ding Qiao and Ji Shengsheng’s residence. It served as both an art studio and a photography workspace. The two had purchased adjacent units together—one as their love nest and the other as their shared workplace. The studio was divided into two sections, ensuring minimal interference between their work.

At least, that was the idea in theory. If only the great photographer Ji could stop constantly wandering over, Ding Qiao would be much more satisfied.

He was starting to regret agreeing to Ji Shengsheng’s suggestion of buying the place together. Now, their lives and work were completely intertwined—spending every hour of every day together. It was so suffocating that it made him want to gag.

“Shifu, Sh—… Ji Shu, hello.” Jin Lang caught himself under Ding Qiao’s sharp glare, quickly swallowing back the word “zhang”.

Now that his student had arrived, even Ji Shengsheng—who was usually oblivious—knew better than to continue lingering in the studio and disrupting the lesson. After greeting Jin Lang, he returned to his own workspace, leaving the master and disciple to their business.

Ding Qiao’s teaching style was both relaxed and meticulous. Today, he had prepared a still-life exercise for Jin Lang to copy.

“Since this is your first session, let’s start with something simple,” Ding Qiao said, pointing to a half-bust sculpture for him to draw.

“A sculpture for my first assignment?”

“What, do you want to start with an apple instead?” Ding Qiao frowned.

“N-no, a sculpture is great!” Jin Lang quickly positioned himself in front of the easel, ready to begin.

To his surprise, Ding Qiao also set up an easel beside him and started sketching along.

Ding Qiao’s strokes were swift and precise, reminiscent of a street artist’s quick sketching technique. Within moments, he had already outlined the contours of the sculpture with remarkable accuracy.

Jin Lang found himself momentarily mesmerized by the process before snapping back to focus on his own work.

Jin Lang stood quietly in front of the easel, gazing at the statue bathed in light. He first observed how the light fell upon the sculpture before slowly putting pencil to paper.

Time passed, and the studio remained silent except for the soft scratching of the pencil against paper. Immersed in his own world, Jin Lang didn’t notice that Ding Qiao had moved behind him, carefully studying his grip on the pencil. Ding Qiao frowned, unsure whether he felt anger, disappointment, or heartache.

“You haven’t picked up a pencil in two years?” Ding Qiao suddenly spoke.

Jin Lang knew his teacher had noticed the stiffness in his hand and didn’t dare to hide it. He silently nodded.

“That’s good. Forget all the mess you’ve picked up, and start fresh with me.” Ding Qiao unexpectedly didn’t scold him, leaving Jin Lang a little stunned. What kind of teacher hears that a student hasn’t drawn for two years and praises them instead?

Ding Qiao, however, was barely holding back his frustration. Although he didn’t show much on the surface, inside, he was furious. He hated seeing Jin Lang squander his talent—it was like a raw jade buried in cement. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to be truly angry with him.

He had secretly asked Lu Qian about Jin Lang’s situation. While Lu Qian didn’t know all the details, one thing was certain—Jin Lang’s family was truly poor. The boy had suffered a great deal because of his family’s debts.

Ding Qiao came from a prestigious family and had been raised with the arrogance of a young master. But after traveling around with Ji Shengsheng, he had seen more of the hardships of life. He knew that under the weight of crushing debt and the struggle to survive, asking Jin Lang to focus on painting was nothing short of a fantasy.

Watching Jin Lang hesitantly pick up the pencil again, his eyes still shining with passion, Ding Qiao couldn’t bring himself to scold him. More than anything, he felt heartache. And relief.

Relief that he had found him in just two years. From now on, Jin Lang wouldn’t be allowed to neglect his art for even a single day.

Jin Lang continued sketching the statue while stealing glances at Ding Qiao’s ever-changing expression. He also tried to sneak a peek at the finished sketch Ding Qiao had drawn earlier, his eyes darting around. Before he could succeed, Ding Qiao caught him and smacked him on the back.

“Your technique is already terrible, and your mind still can’t stay focused? Do you even want to learn how to draw?”

Ji Shengsheng had just emerged from the darkroom when he heard Ding Qiao scolding someone. He couldn’t help but chuckle. This guy was berating Jin Lang for being unable to calm down, yet his own tone was far more restless.

Without a word, Ji Shengsheng brought over a burner of calming incense, hoping it would help settle both of them down.

As the familiar soothing scent filled the room, Ding Qiao realized that he himself had become impatient. Watching Ji Shengsheng quietly tending to the incense, then bringing over tea and snacks, he gradually calmed down.

He understood that he had searched for this boy for too long. Now that he had found him, he was desperate to teach him everything at once, without considering whether Jin Lang could handle it.

It was like trying to rehydrate an extremely dry sponge—you had to let it absorb water little by little. Otherwise, before it regained its softness and elasticity, it was nothing more than a hardened, stubborn rock that wouldn’t absorb anything no matter how much water you poured on it.

Jin Lang was Ding Qiao’s first disciple—and possibly his last. Ji Shengsheng cared just as much as he did, though he had no authority when it came to painting. He could only offer support from the sidelines.

“Jin Lang, take a break. Your Uncle Ji brought some tea,” Ding Qiao finally decided to ease up. He didn’t want to scare his student away on the first lesson.

Hearing the word “break,” Ji Shengsheng immediately rushed over, trying to pull Jin Lang away for tea. But Jin Lang instead walked over to examine Ding Qiao’s sketch.

Strictly speaking, Ding Qiao’s work wasn’t even a proper drawing—it was more like casual doodling. After marking the key points of the statue and mapping out the interplay of light and shadow, he had quickly outlined the figure with simple strokes, using charcoal shading to bring out depth. It was an effortless style, yet the statue appeared incredibly three-dimensional, with distinct and natural lighting.

Jin Lang glanced at his own sketch. Lowering his gaze, he didn’t know what to say.

“Two years of slacking off—do you have any idea how much basic skill you’ve lost?” Ding Qiao’s expression was still stern.

“I do,” Jin Lang admitted.

“At least you haven’t lost that little spark of talent.” Ding Qiao huffed. “You’ll need a lot more practice. Take this home with you.” Without even looking, he grabbed a cup of tea from Ji Shengsheng’s hands, took a sip, then shoved it back.

“Not sweet enough,” he complained.

“You’re too restless today, so I cut back on the sugar,” Ji Shengsheng replied casually, setting the tea back on the table. He then pulled Ding Qiao along to pick out a small statue for Jin Lang to take home.

Jin Lang watched the two of them interact, and for a moment, he felt a sense of warmth. So this was what married life was like—it wasn’t much different from an ordinary couple’s.

As he sipped his tea, he caught a glimpse of Ji Shengsheng, who had just been lecturing Ding Qiao about being too impatient, suddenly pulling him into a corner and kissing him.

“When are you going to finish? I’m hungry,” Ji Shengsheng whispered, slipping a hand under Ding Qiao’s shirt and giving him a squeeze.

“…Never mind, maybe they are different from ordinary couples,” Jin Lang thought, feeling slightly awkward.

“If you’re hungry, go eat. Stop fooling around here,” Ding Qiao grumbled, though he retaliated with a pinch of his own.

“Hiss…” Ji Shengsheng winced, rubbing his chest as he slinked away. Soon, he returned with a bag, placing the small statue inside before handing it to Jin Lang. “That’s enough for today’s lesson. Your master and I are going to eat.”

Ding Qiao was about to continue teaching Jin Lang when Ji Shengsheng interrupted again. Just as he was about to snap at him, Jin Lang suddenly exclaimed, “Ah, it’s already six-thirty?! How did time pass so quickly? I need to go!”

“Dinner time. Stay and eat with us?” Ding Qiao asked.

“No, Qian-ge is waiting for me. I have to go back and eat with him,” Jin Lang replied in a hurry, not realizing the familiarity in his tone.

“…” Ding Qiao and Ji Shengsheng exchanged glances.

“Alright then, head back. Don’t forget your assignments,” Ding Qiao started, but before he could finish, Jin Lang was already dashing out the door. “Got it, Shifu. See you, Uncle Ji!” His voice echoed as he disappeared down the hall.

“See you, Ji Shizhang!”

“That little brat!” Ding Qiao scolded.

“What a good kid,” Ji Shengsheng praised.

Inside the room, one was cursing, and the other was complimenting.

(To be continued…)