Chapter 1
The deep gray sky looked as if it were about to rain.
Orange lights had already begun to flicker on in the high-rises not far away.
The traffic light in the middle of the road turned red.
“A client wants you to paint a portrait,” Fang Xisu said, her right hand gently pulling the handbrake as her left reached for the leather bag in the back seat.
Ruan Xinshu, wearing a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, seemed not to have heard. She remained in the passenger seat, her focus entirely on the Buddhist prayer beads wrapped around her wrist.
Seeing no response from Ruan Xinshu, Fang Xisu continued in a conversational tone, “Speaking of which, this client has a certain cool and detached aura about her. The more I look at her, the more I think she’s just your type.”
After saying this, she glanced at Ruan Xinshu again. Noticing that the other woman had stopped toying with the beads, Fang Xisu smiled and continued rummaging through her bag. “Ah, right, look—”
Fang Xisu pulled out a tablet computer. The screen immediately lit up with the client’s detailed invoice, which she held out in front of Ruan Xinshu.
Seeing the amount displayed on the screen, Ruan Xinshu resumed turning the beads on her wrist and stated concisely, “Very generous.”
“It just goes to show how much this client admires your work,” Fang Xisu said with a triumphant smile. “Aren’t you in the limelight right now? You just won an award, you’re an up-and-coming artist with a unique style, and with me promoting you, of course this price is appropriate.”
“It’s just—” Fang Xisu’s tone shifted, and she cleared her throat lightly. “The client has one condition.”
“…What is it?” Ruan Xinshu grew wary.
“It’s nothing major. It’s just that this client, well, she wants you to change the format of the portrait.”
“…” Ruan Xinshu shot Fang Xisu another look.
Fang Xisu smiled with perfect ease. “You know of Sleeping Venus, right?”
Ruan Xinshu blinked, immediately understanding what Fang Xisu’s “condition” was. “A nude?”
Fang Xisu averted her gaze and nodded without a word.
People usually hung portraits in their homes to project authority or express longing; there were plenty of reasons. But to request a nude portrait of oneself… Ruan Xinshu fell silent for a moment. This was a first.
“…This person must be a narcissist.”
Ruan Xinshu began to criticize the client.
Fang Xisu looked at her, not a trace of embarrassment on her face. “Oh, come on. While it’s rare in this country, you used to paint them back when you were in school, didn’t you? It’s not that unusual.”
No, the average foreigner would still find it unusual.
Ruan Xinshu thought to herself but didn’t say it out loud.
The light at the intersection was still red.
As the car waited, Fang Xisu watched the hand that fiddled with the prayer beads.
Because of Ruan Xinshu’s mysophobia, her fingers were never stained with paint, nor were they rough. Her nails were always neatly trimmed.
Perhaps due to meticulous care, her hands were so fair they looked as if they had never seen the sun. Her fingers were long and slender, with veins visible on the back. Fang Xisu felt that her hands were far more delicate than her own, even though she wasn’t an artist.
After a long moment, the lashes beneath Ruan Xinshu’s gold-rimmed glasses trembled slightly. “Have her ask Lin Yicheng. Lin Yicheng can paint portraits, too.”
“Lin Yicheng?” Fang Xisu’s expression soured at the name. “How could her paintings ever be the same as yours?”
Although Lin Yicheng and Ruan Xinshu were friends and often referred clients to each other, a magazine had recently published a comparison of their work. Fang Xisu was apparently quite displeased with the article, feeling that Lin Yicheng was stealing their business.
Fang Xisu cleared her throat and continued, “But this client wants you. Your handling of light and shadow, your unexpected expressions, and your bold use of color.”
Ruan Xinshu glanced at her. “Did the client say that?”
“Do I even need to make something like that up? Of course the client said it.” Noticing the change in her expression, Fang Xisu immediately asked, “So, will you paint it?”
“…” Ruan Xinshu was quiet for a moment before nodding. “Mm.”
Fang Xisu’s eyes lit up. As if afraid Ruan Xinshu would change her mind, she immediately opened her email. “I’ll contact her right away.”
The red light turned green. Fang Xisu released the handbrake and drove toward Ruan Xinshu’s apartment.
The car pulled slowly into the parking garage.
Fang Xisu and Ruan Xinshu got out and walked through the underground space.
The echo of their footsteps reverberated off the walls of the empty garage.
As they reached the brightly lit elevator lobby, Fang Xisu pulled an envelope from her bag. “Right, I almost forgot. An invitation for you was sent to the studio. I didn’t read it. You should check it.”
Ruan Xinshu took the invitation and glanced at the sender and the contents of the enclosed letter.
Fang Xisu peeked over, curious. “Is it from a client?”
Ruan Xinshu shook her head. “It’s from a friend. She’s getting married.”
Fang Xisu fell silent, a look of surprise on her face. “A friend of yours?”
Reading her expression, Ruan Xinshu lifted her chin. “I’ve told you before, I have other friends besides Lin Yicheng.”
Fang Xisu pouted, clearly unconvinced.
She herself received wedding invitations like this several times a month; they were impossible to avoid.
But she had almost never seen Ruan Xinshu attend a wedding banquet.
Ruan Xinshu didn’t bother to explain further, simply slipping the invitation back into its envelope.
The two rode the scenic elevator up to Ruan Xinshu’s floor.
Fang Xisu’s phone pinged. She glanced at an email before looking at Ruan Xinshu.
“The client said she’s free this Sunday. Is it the same as usual? You’ll chat with her first to get to know her before setting a time?”
Ruan Xinshu nodded quietly.
She believed that everything had a core, and one could not create without understanding it.
Some called it spirit; others called it soul.
It was like studying the history behind a building before painting it.
When painting a person, one had to understand their life.
To paint without understanding would inevitably result in a hollow image, its substance forever lacking.
Fang Xisu nodded, seeming to have anticipated her answer. “I already asked the client. She said that’s fine.”
The elevator slowed to a stop at Ruan Xinshu’s floor with a soft ding.
Ruan Xinshu nodded to show she understood.
She gazed out at the overcast sky and, for some reason, felt a dull ache in her temples.
By the time the day of the meeting arrived, it had been raining in Xuan City for several days straight.
Today, Ruan Xinshu wore a clean, white turtleneck sweater under a simple but elegantly tailored houndstooth autumn blazer, giving her a more professional look than usual.
She stood before the door of the client’s high-end apartment, checked the information on her phone one last time, and then pressed the doorbell.
“Hello, I’m Ruan Xinshu. I’m here today to discuss the painting.”
A woman’s voice came through the intercom a moment later. “Please wait a moment.”
Ruan Xinshu tilted her head. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had heard that voice somewhere before, but she dismissed the thought and replied politely, “Of course.”
All pleasant voices sound the same.
The thought crossed her mind again.
With a mechanical click, the automatic lock on the large black door disengaged, and it slowly swung open.
A woman appeared and looked at Ruan Xinshu quietly from behind the door.
She wore a loose, white Tencel shirt—the same shade as Ruan Xinshu’s sweater—with a camel-colored silk scarf tied inside the collar. Below, she had on a pair of khaki dress trousers.
Judging by her minimalist business attire, it was hard to imagine that the person standing before her was the major client who had requested a nude portrait.
It was because her face, and her eyes, carried a natural air of indifference. She needed no extra adornment; just by standing there, she was captivating enough to draw one’s gaze.
Fang Xisu’s guess had been right on the mark; the client’s appearance was indeed her type.
But Ruan Xinshu felt she had no need to get to know this person.
After all, there was a time when she had to understand this very woman, from head to toe, every single day.
At the thought, Ruan Xinshu’s feet couldn’t help but take a half step back.
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