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Ch39

"What does that have to do with you?"

Song Xuanhe had originally thought that Xiao Yuanmu would ask him why there was a drawing of him in the sketchbook. He hadn't expected him to ask about the designs instead. Song Xiao Shaoye, who had been feeling guilty, straightened up and lifted his chin up slightly, appearing very confident that he was in the right.

Story translated by Chrysanthemum Garden.

Xiao Yuanmu hadn't missed that flicker of guilt in Song Xuanhe's eyes. He glanced at the other, his speech calm and unhurried. "I just thought that those designs were really breathtaking. So, I thought I'd ask."

Song Xuanhe's eyes lit up. His ink-black eyes seemed to shine, and he couldn't suppress the corners of his eyes from curving into a smile. TrVuLW

Back then, the reason he had studied drawing, aside from the fact that it was calming, had been mostly because his fine arts teacher would always squat outside of his classroom. That teacher would always enthusiastically tell him that he mustn't waste his talent, that he refused to miss the chance to teach him, a good seedling who would eventually become a painting master of the next generation.

That teacher had pestered him to death, trying to get him to become a fine arts student. However, because this teacher had been in the painting and calligraphy committee, the teacher in charge of Song Xuanhe's class couldn't say any harsh words. All they had said was that Song Xuanhe was a good student, soit wasn't suitable for him to learn art. His homeroom teacher had basically said that learning art should be left to the students who weren't good at studying.

As soon as that teacher had said those words, the old arts teacher had exploded. He had then gone to pull out works from domestic great masters in the field, fuming, and spoke about their artistic mastery and excellent scholastic backgrounds. When he had finished, he also pulled Song Xuanhe over and emphasized how important one's talent was. He had said that if one wasted one's talent, they would be met with heaven's wrath.

What the chuunibyou-inflicted Song Xiao Shaoye had liked best had been when others praised him. Although he had liked it more when others praised him for his expertise in physics, math, or fighting and while the old arts teacher's praises were very exaggerated, because he had always said them with a very emotional expression, they had seemed very sincere.

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Song Xiao Shaoye, who had loved being praised, had felt like happiness had been spreading throughout his body. He had thought that this slovenly-dressed old man had a discerning eye. He had thought that his days would become very enjoyable if he learned to draw with this old man and get praised by him every day.

Therefore, Song Xuanhe had agreed. However, the next three years had felt like an abyss of suffering. Forget praising him, if the old art teacher hadn't glared at him or punished him all day, that was something to rejoice over. This had really decreased Song Xuanhe's zeal.

It was just that Song Xuanhe had always wanted to be the best in whatever he did. He was not someone who would give up halfway. Furthermore, as he drew, he had discovered that drawing was really fun. He had wanted everyone to acknowledge his drawings and praise him sincerely. Therefore, as time went on, he had invested more and more of his energy into drawing.

Of those next three years, it took nearly two before the art teacher's reaction had gone from fuming to nodding with a serious expression. However, when the old teacher had heard that Song Xuanhe had been planning on majoring in fashion design at university and not traditional Chinese painting or oil painting like he had thought, he reverted back to fuming at the other. He had been even more resentful for Song Xuanhe failing to live up to his expectations. 3UA0lT