The Tailors Artist [Guardian Shen Wei X Zhao Yunlan]

Ch. 3 Tired

Zhao Yunlan couldn't help but snicker at the experience he had at the Tailor shop. Because he hid his background and dressed sluggishly even if he made it work because of his handsome and built body people couldn't help but judge him.

His father is a police officer and his old man wanted him to be one too so be was often brought in to cases and taught strategies, gun use and research.

Living in his home was a constant boot camp, and a real life survival game. Everything was like a mind game as a pawn in a piece of wood. Everything he did had consequences.

He took those lessons seriously but he couldn't help and make them much easier then they seem. Because of this people were amazed, laughed, congratulated and praised for being a young genius.

I liked fast and easy work. I'm an impatient person that can't stand doing nothing and hate over thinking. Not sure what anyone expected but I'm not bound by their meaningless rules.

Yet despite all these expectations they had placed on me I rejected them all. That line of work didn't call for me. The idea of my life being at risk, sure. I don't care it gets the adreline going but I slowly started to notice that I was getting suspicious of everyone if they were a traitor or not. And I'd constantly be forced to stay seated unless a case came up which didn't much suit me. Besides I'd be working with that non stop nagging chat box of a dad, it's not really appetizing.

I did what my mom told me and went with a safe career. An artist.

It was much like me to be unpredictable like that. In none of my years of living had I shown signs of fine arts interest.

But I felt like I had to draw. Like there was an image I had to keep. It wasn't a thing or a place it was most likely a person.

People with small rosy lips, slim waist, pale skin, curved face, doer eyes, long skinny hands, good posture and intellectual, other worldly beautiful people lured me into drawing. But no one felt right. The drawings fascination would last a couple days after completion before they lost their touch and I felt on the verge of despair.

I get tired of the cycle but I can't help myself from looking and drawing for people.

I had an eye for beauty and people recognized that. Contrary to people's belief that I wasn't good enough to be an Artist I became a promising one.

I made galleries, conferences, lessons, more drawings and soon I was rich.

I actually had way too much money and started to worry I was waisting it on nothing so I sponsored, funded, donated and gave money to anyone that needed it.

I needed as many excuses as possible to get rid of it and I started contest, I paid Artist to exhibit in my galleries and collaborate with companies.

But funny thing is that instead of loosing money I gained even more!

I laughed that my life could only be filled with luck and nothing more.

My dad still didn't accept having me as a free Lance Artist and had be draw portraits of people that robbed, kidnapped etc. People and there was no way of knowing how'd they look besides the witnesses description.

I could only agree as I was bored, and to the public it was seen as volunteering so what was free service became paid work too.

I felt like everything was going way too good and called my best friend Da Qing that was a Vet and I a cat lover for some drinks.

I wasn't an alcoholic but a smoker just that being at a club made all the difference to my life.

This way I wouldn't be portrayed as a Saint. However people don't want me to be anything else but that. They said no matter how drunk or unhealthy I was I'd never harm or pressure anyone to do anything bad.

I got tired of that and decided to go back home for vacation.

I've been away from Dragon City ever since I bought those suits.
I just moved in and I already had to go because of all the parties I was invited to in order to increase my network and other shenanigans I didn't pay attention to my manager for.