Chapter 24: The First Lesson and a Familiar Face

The next day.

Zhong Tian sat poised on a wooden bench in the pedestrian street, his gaze sweeping across the bustling scene as he searched for Chu Lenghu.

Even though it was still morning, the air already hummed with warmth.

Sunlight, filtering through the banyan tree canopy above Zhong Tian, painted the ground with a mosaic of shifting light and shadow.

A distinct nervousness prickled him, for this was his very first painting lesson as a teacher.

Within his mind, Zhong Tian meticulously planned out how he would conduct the lesson.

Encountering a few knowledge points he felt less confident about, Zhong Tian pulled out his phone, swiftly searched for the answers, and committed them firmly to memory.

‘Hmm, so this is what preparing a lesson feels like…’

It was no wonder the old adage proclaimed, “To teach is to learn twice.”

Zhong Tian, in this moment, truly grasped the profound meaning of that ancient wisdom.

“Teacher Kezhong!”

The voice from behind drew his attention, and he turned to see Chu Lenghu, a black-haired girl, waving at him from a short distance away.

The girl wore a simple, elegant dress that transitioned from pristine white at the bodice to a gentle sky blue at the hem.

Her naturally exquisite face, untouched by makeup, harmonized flawlessly with the attire, creating a vision so captivating that Zhong Tian found himself utterly transfixed.

“Ah, ah…”

Zhong Tian had intended to offer a proper greeting, yet his mind drew a blank.

Addressing her by her full name felt too formal, while “Lenghu” seemed overly familiar, considering their nascent acquaintance.

Ultimately, he could only manage a choked sound of acknowledgment.

‘No, that’s not right! Why have I become so… shy?’

“Let’s, let’s go.”

****

“Hello… does your magazine accept photography submissions?”

“Ah…” The Unnamed Female Editor at the front desk found her cheeks warming as the handsome Photo Submitting Young Man before her offered a charming smile.

With a slight cough, she averted her gaze. “I’ll need to consult with the editor-in-chief,” she managed, gesturing, “Please, this way. You can take a seat over there.”

“Thank you.”

The Photo Submitting Young Man nodded his appreciation, but as his gaze drifted in the indicated direction, he froze.

For there, he beheld a figure cloaked in black.

Their long, dark hair cascaded effortlessly, like a midnight waterfall, while their glass-like eyes seemed to shimmer with an inner luminescence.

The girl’s face, devastatingly beautiful and strikingly familiar, sent a jolt through the young man’s heart.

He tentatively ventured, “Te-Teacher Kezhong?”

Hearing his voice, the girl slowly turned her head, fixing him with a chilling glance.

Only after confirming his words were addressed to her did she respond, “Who are you?”

****

“Teacher, water.” Chu Lenghu offered Zhong Tian a cup of water and sat beside him.

“Hmm… actually, we’re peers,” Zhong Tian demurred, accepting the water and taking a small sip. “You can just call me by my name.”

He couldn’t deny the familiar awkwardness that always settled upon him when visiting someone else’s home, particularly a girl’s — a feeling of being subtly restricted.

Perhaps it was an inexplicable apprehension towards other people’s elders, not quite fear, but a similar unsettling sensation.

‘Speaking of which… where are Chu Lenghu’s parents?’

‘Not home?’

“During lessons, ‘Teacher’ is still more appropriate,” Chu Lenghu replied with a slight smile.

To dispel his discomfort, Zhong Tian set the cup aside and directly broached the subject. “Do you have a drawing board?”

“I do.” Chu Lenghu nodded, retrieving a portable drawing board from a spacious drawer on the desk before her.

Alongside it, she produced several perfectly sharpened charcoal pencils, a clear indication of her thorough preparation.

Zhong Tian looked at the charcoal pencils and fell into thought.

He recalled his first encounter with charcoal pencils.

The lines he’d drawn, stubbornly resisting every attempt to erase them, had driven him to the brink of frustration.

In a fit of pique, he’d sworn a solemn oath right then and there: “I, Zhong Tian, would sooner jump off this very spot and die outside than ever use charcoal pencils again!”

‘Honestly, they’re not worth the trouble.’

Producing his own 2B pencil, Zhong Tian declared, “Welcome to the 2B Pencil Heresy.”

“Huh? I saw online that everyone recommends using charcoal pencils.”

“No, that’s strictly for art students,” Zhong Tian countered, his slender fingers deftly twirling the 2B pencil.

“2B pencils lay down color smoothly, allow for fluid strokes, erase beautifully, and excel at rendering subtle light and shadow gradients.

Can charcoal pencils do that? I ask you, can they?”

In truth, charcoal pencils were perfectly capable of all those things; Zhong Tian was simply a staunch anti-charcoal advocate.

“And if you’re sketching for hand-drawn comics later, 2B pencils are still better.”

“Oh—” Chu Lenghu nodded.

“My plan is to first teach you some fundamental sketching techniques, and then we’ll move on to digital drawing,” Zhong Tian explained, taking a utility knife from Chu Lenghu.

He smoothed a sheet of paper and began sharpening a pencil over it.

“You might feel that sketching is unimportant, especially since you’re keen on comics, but it is the absolute bedrock of all art, and unequivocally the most effective way to refine your drawing abilities.”

“Understood.”

Zhong Tian swept his continuously falling long hair back behind his ear.

‘Not bringing a hair tie was a tactical error,’ he mused.

His side locks kept slipping forward, almost brushing against the 2B pencil shavings on his chest.

His hair wasn’t particularly long by a girl’s standards, but compared to most boys, the difference was akin to Master Roshi versus a Super Saiyan 3.

“Teacher, let me tie your hair for you.” Chu Lenghu picked up a khaki hair tie.

“Huh?”

Before Zhong Tian could react, Chu Lenghu had already gently lifted his long hair.

Zhong Tian paused his movement, momentarily frozen in place.

Chu Lenghu quickly tied Zhong Tian’s hair into a simple ponytail.

“Teacher, your hair has a lovely texture.”

“Um… thank you.”

A faint blush crept across Zhong Tian’s face, and he hastened his movements, sharpening the pencil with renewed vigor.

“It was nothing, really,” Chu Lenghu said, offering Zhong Tian a soft smile.

“Let’s begin.”

Zhong Tian, holding the sharpened 2B pencil loosely in what he called the standard grip, explained, “This is the conventional way, but there’s no strict rule.

Just hold it however feels most comfortable for you; I’ve simply grown accustomed to this grip since childhood.”

“There’s a saying in art, perhaps a bit simplistic but not without its truth: ‘The amateur sees structure, the master sees lines,'” Zhong Tian stated, passing the pencil to Chu Lenghu.

“Therefore, we’ll begin by practicing line work and basic structure.”

‘Though I never actually practiced lines back then… with daily accumulation, the lines naturally became smooth and beautiful.’

Chu Lenghu nodded, then, mimicking Zhong Tian’s standard grip, she supported the drawing board with one hand and began drawing lines on the paper, stroke by careful stroke.

‘Oh, wow.’

Watching the girl’s line work beside him, Zhong Tian felt a surge of genuine surprise.

Her strokes were remarkably clean and precise, exhibiting the perfect light-at-the-ends, heavy-in-the-middle quality, and she executed them with impressive speed.

In just half a minute, a small square was filled.

“Quite impressive,” Zhong Tian remarked, taking the drawing board for a closer look. “This level of skill… it’s undoubtedly superior to the incoming batch of art students.”

“Ah…?” Chu Lenghu blinked in surprise. “Isn’t that a bit of an exaggeration? Those are actual art students, after all.”

She clearly hadn’t anticipated such high praise from Zhong Tian.

“You are indeed stronger than them,” Zhong Tian insisted, returning the drawing board to Chu Lenghu.

“Of course, I’m referring to the absolute beginners.

Even art students aren’t inherently skilled the moment they pick up a pencil.

Your line work alone puts you streets ahead of them.

Lenghu, have you drawn frequently before?”

“Yes, whenever I’m bored, I draw,” she affirmed, nodding.

“I often copy various comics, like your ‘Leafage,’ which I find incredibly engaging.”

‘Oh? She actually copies my own work?’

A slight embarrassment warmed Zhong Tian’s cheeks, swiftly followed by a surge of inexplicable pride.

“Do you mind if I take a look? At your drawings.”

****

“I’ve already spoken with the editor-in-chief on your behalf,” the Unnamed Female Editor stated. “Your submission can be published, but it will require approval to ensure quality.

I’ll be handling that review myself.

Please leave your phone number; I’ll give you a response tonight after I’ve had a chance to look it over.”

“Okay.”

The Photo Submitting Young Man, seated upright in the armchair, nodded, his eyes periodically drawn to the flawless, charming face of the woman before him.

‘She really looks like Teacher Kezhong…’

Yet, upon closer inspection, her height and demeanor were distinctly different, leaving the young man utterly bewildered.

‘Could she be her older sister?’

“Also, about this ‘Teacher Kezhong’ you mentioned earlier…”

“Hm?”

“…Never mind.”