Z High’s art program had only been established for two years, and its reputation was far from resounding. Every year after the college entrance examination period, the neighboring high school would hang eye-catching red banners at their gates. Their LED screens would scroll day and night for two months: Congratulations to our students… for being admitted to the Tsinghua Academy of Arts and the Central Academy of Fine Arts.

In contrast, Z High always appeared somewhat lackluster in this area. As a key high school directly under provincial jurisdiction, this was a blow to their prestige.

This city-wide painting competition had gathered art students from nearly every major high school. In a sense, it served as a silent pre-examination battle. The school leadership had spared no effort, providing both encouragement and material rewards. In the end, they submitted nearly four hundred entries.

Regrettably, when the final results were released, only a few students from their school had won awards. Most were merely “Honorable Mentions,” and the best result was a single Second Prize.

It seemed the “Perennial Second Place” hat was stuck on their heads for good.

Unexpectedly, the judging committee sent a new notice late last night. After repeated discussions, the judges decided to award the Special Prize of the city-wide painting competition to Ruan Mian of Z High.

Who could have anticipated such a pleasant surprise?

The leaders in charge of the art program were first ecstatic, and then they looked at one another in confusion. Ruan Mian? They didn’t remember a student by that name in the art department.

Regardless, it didn’t matter now. As long as the honor belonged to Z High, they would display it. After all, they had never had such a proud moment in the arts before.

Thus, when Ruan Mian arrived at school the next day, she looked up and saw her name on the LED display at the entrance: Warmest congratulations to our student Ruan Mian for winning the Special Prize in the City Painting Competition!

She had only seen Pan Tingting’s WeChat message this morning and thought it was a joke. She had never entered a competition, so how could she have won?

But the school announcement was already out; it couldn’t be fake. She felt as if she were walking through a thick fog.

In the bike shed, she ran into several girls from her class. They crowded around her. “Wow, Ruan Mian, you’re really amazing!”

“I heard all the art students in our school entered, but most of them had mediocre results, and they’re the professionals. Besides, there’s only one Special Prize in the entire city…”

The girls discussed the news excitedly. Ruan Mian walked among them, feeling like an outsider.

Along the way, most people’s gazes lingered on her for a few extra seconds. The topics surrounding her lately had simply been too concentrated.

The influential figures of the school, the campus belles and heartthrobs, were always the same few people. They had lost their sense of novelty.

Instead, there was this girl who was once first in her grade, then saw her grades plummet to the bottom of the class. First, the arrogant Little Tyrant gave her an uncharacteristic apology. Then, there was that handsome, young man who attended her parents’ meeting. And now, she had defeated so many art students to win the Special Prize.

As she reached the floor where her classroom was located, Ruan Mian immediately saw the man standing at the office door. Linking this to the previous events, a premonition suddenly arose in her heart.

Teacher Zhao saw her as well and walked over with a smile. He likely hadn’t slept well, as there were heavy dark circles under his eyes, but his spirit seemed quite high.

“Ruan Mian, congratulations.”

The thought in Ruan Mian’s heart settled, and her voice carried a bit more weight as she spoke. “Was it you who sent my painting to the competition?”

“I apologize.” Teacher Zhao adjusted his glasses. “I did this without your prior consent. But Ruan Mian, don’t you think it would be too much of a pity if you never painted again?”

These words touched a hidden part of Ruan Mian’s heart. She stared at the warm morning sun behind him and blinked softly.

Teacher Zhao continued, “Do you know why the committee decided to add a Special Prize at the last minute? It’s because it is a highly controversial work. It breaks the traditional definition of oil painting. After many consultations, they decided to give it a unique honor.”

“Ruan Mian, listen to the truest voice in your heart. A teacher cannot believe that a girl capable of such a painting would be willing to put down her brush, or let the thing she treasures most gather dust.”

Of course I am unwilling.

But no matter how much she couldn’t bear to let go of the brush, she didn’t seem to have a way to pick it up again.

“The school hopes you will seriously consider transferring to the art department. I hope…”

Teacher Zhao was no longer in front of her, and Ruan Mian had returned to her seat, but his final words kept spinning in her head.

“What are you thinking about now?” Pan Tingting turned around, clutching a novel. “I was talking to you just now and you didn’t even hear me.”

“Huh?” Ruan Mian looked blank. “What did you say?”

“Soft Cotton, why are you so cute?” Pan Tingting giggled and reached out to touch her hand. “I’m teasing you; I didn’t say anything just now.”

Ah, her hand is so smooth and tender. Let me touch it a few more times. These beautiful little hands created a Special Prize work; touching them counts as sharing some of the glory.

“Handsome Tree,” she called out to Zeng Yushu, winking at him triumphantly. “Do you feel jealous of me right now?”

Zeng Yushu gave a cold snort. “Boring.”

Ruan Mian didn’t understand the riddles these two were playing. She was about to reach for her phone in her drawer when Pan Tingting spoke again. “The award ceremony is at the City Center next Saturday, right? I heard a TV station will be there filming the whole thing. You have to dress up beautifully. I’ll ask Old Chen for leave so I can go cheer for you and take pictures.”

Forget it, I won’t send a message. I’ll ask him when I go to the hospital this afternoon.

The award ceremony?

Teacher Zhao hadn’t mentioned it. He was likely focused solely on convincing her to transfer to his art department.

Ruan Mian’s entire body stiffened. Her breathing became long and difficult; she could feel a heavy sense of suffocation in her lungs.

The last time she went to receive a painting award was nine years ago in Linshan City. The teacher leading the group then was Teacher Zhao’s father. He was a serious old man who rarely smiled. She remembered that at the celebratory banquet, he had uncharacteristically had a bit of wine. He was unusually gentle as he said, Ruan Mian, seeing you youngsters so successful makes me truly happy.

Later, his body was found in the ruins. He had been protecting a student in his arms. A steel bar had pierced through his curved back and into the student’s heart.

The Linshan earthquake had destroyed too many things. It was a terrifying memory that even the longest passage of time could not wash away.

The bell for class rang. Ruan Mian took out the books needed for the lesson. She glimpsed her phone screen lighting up and paused.

A new message had arrived, the content very simple: Discharged from hospital.

She read those three words silently three times. Did being discharged mean his health was fine now? The joy in her heart couldn’t be contained and flickered in her eyes. Just as she was about to reply, the homeroom teacher walked onto the podium. “A quick announcement: we will have our midterm exams next Thursday…”

After a wave of groans from the students, they returned to their wooden expressions.

In the third year of high school, these endless exams were like drinking soda. You peel back a “Thank you for participating” only to find another “Thank you for participating” underneath. They were merely a formality of youth.

This exam seemed particularly important. Nearly every subject teacher emphasized it. Even Pan Tingting, who read novels in class, could recite the dates by heart. When school finally let out, she gathered the mountain of seed shells from her drawer, wrapped them in paper, and threw them accurately into the back trash can.

“Soft Cotton, do you want to go out for a walk later?” Exams made her irritable, and her stash of sunflower seeds was running low.

Ruan Mian had already shouldered her bag. She gave her a slightly guilty look. “Next time. I have some business to take care of today.”

“Oh, alright. I’ll find someone from the dorm to go with me.”

Ruan Mian hurried away from the school, pedaling her bike through one intersection after another. She felt as if this road were longer than usual.

But no matter how long it was, she reached the end.

The old man was bent over watering the flowers. Ruan Mian greeted him and pushed open the door to the main house.

Besides Qi Yan, his assistant was also there. One was sitting, one was standing.

Neither seemed surprised by her appearance. Qi Yan glanced at her and signaled for her to come in and sit.

Ruan Mian sat on the sofa and looked the man over from head to toe. His features were as cold as ever, but his complexion looked good. She felt somewhat relieved. Just as she was about to look away, he suddenly turned his head toward her.

That gaze held warmth.

Ruan Mian quickly lowered her head and inserted the small bunch of light purple flowers she had picked by the lake into the narrow neck of the crystal vase on the table. The wind blew in through the window, spreading a faint fragrance through the living room.

The assistant’s voice drifted into her warm ears.

“Mr. Qi, you have a meeting with the Smiths this Saturday…”

“Is it this Saturday?”

Ruan Mian saw them both look over and realized she had blurted out the question she was holding back.

“Yes,” the assistant nodded. “It is this Saturday.”

Qi Yan asked, “Do you have supplementary classes this Saturday?”

Ruan Mian nodded haphazardly. She reached out and plucked a leaf that had strayed from the vase, unconsciously rubbing it into a ball in her palm.

The assistant returned to the subject. “Several major banks in Europe have taken corresponding measures, but…”

Their conversation became increasingly difficult to understand.

Slowly, outside the green mountains, only a half-circle of the setting sun remained.

“Ruan Mian,” the familiar deep voice called out. “It’s getting late.”

“Oh.” Ruan Mian stood up with her bag. “Then I’ll be going back first.”

Qi Yan watched her hurried departure, looking thoughtful.

The assistant’s report didn’t end until eight in the evening. Qi Yan rubbed his brow tiredly. Just as he was about to go upstairs to shower, his phone on the coffee table rang again.

It was an unknown local number.

The phone stopped, then rang again.

Qi Yan frowned and answered.

“Hello, may I ask if this is Ruan Mian’s guardian?”

His tone paused for a second. “I am.”

“Hello,” the voice on the other end continued quickly. “I am Ruan Mian’s art teacher.”

“First of all, congratulations… Also, there is something I would like to discuss with you…”

“This Saturday?” Qi Yan caught the key point in the teacher’s previous words.

“Yes, the award ceremony for the painting competition will be held this Saturday.”

No wonder she had looked as if she wanted to say something earlier. Qi Yan gave a soft laugh. “Please give me the address.”

After Teacher Zhao recited the address, he returned to the original topic. “Ruan Mian is the most talented child I have ever seen in painting. I truly hope…”

He could tell she loved painting, but for some reason, she had stopped. Fearing he might lose such a promising talent, he had obtained her guardian’s contact information from the homeroom teacher to have a discussion.

After ending the call, Qi Yan sighed. He reached for the cigarette case on the coffee table, took one out, and lit it. The small crimson glow flickered between his fingers. He narrowed his eyes and slowly exhaled a cloud of white smoke.

Time passed like a white horse galloping across a gap, and Saturday arrived as scheduled.

Ruan Mian arrived at the City Cultural Center half an hour early. As soon as she entered the main gate, she saw a news van from the TV station parked nearby. Staff members were getting out one by one.

She went to the meeting point to find Teacher Zhao. There were several school leaders beside him, and the group was chatting and laughing.

She walked over with the other winning students, stood and listened for a while, and then prepared to enter.

The venue was large, the lighting bright, and the seats were almost entirely filled.

Ruan Mian searched for Pan Tingting’s figure everywhere but couldn’t find her.

Once everyone was seated, the host began the award ceremony according to the agenda after the standard opening remarks. This was followed by an hour of leaders taking turns to speak.

Finally, they reached the part most people were interested in: the awards.

There were many recipients for the Honorable Mention. To save time, the host asked each school to send a student representative to collect them backstage after the meeting. They began presenting from the Third Prize upward.

Camera flashes went off continuously.

Soon, even the Second Prize awards were finished.

Then came the First Prize.

Three students stood on stage, each having five minutes to give an acceptance speech. The host was eloquent, making the atmosphere very lively and concluding this part smoothly.

Just as everyone thought this was the final part of the ceremony and prepared to leave with a sigh of relief, the host’s excited voice came through the microphone. “The next award to be presented is the Special Prize.”

There was a murmur of discussion from below. “How come we didn’t hear about a Special Prize before?”

On the large screen, a sheet of deep blue flowed down like a waterfall, and after a moment, the full image was revealed.

“The Special Prize-winning work: Starry Night.” The host seemed unable to suppress the excitement in his heart; his volume increased significantly. “Congratulations to the winner of the Special Prize, Ruan Mian of Z High, Class 17.”

The leaders of Z High stood up together and led the applause.

Amidst the warm applause, there were many voices of doubt. “Is this a painting? You must be joking, right?”

“Yeah!” someone agreed loudly. “This is clearly a photograph!”

“This is a painting competition, right? Using a photo to pad the numbers; do they think everyone is blind?”

As the doubts continued, Ruan Mian’s palms grew sweaty.

No one had ever painted an oil painting this way before, and she didn’t know if this method was right.

Suddenly, someone sat down in the empty seat beside her. She kept her head lowered.

Her hand was suddenly touched lightly, and then a cool sensation seeped into her palm. She looked in shock at the hand holding hers. It was slender and pale, the joints distinct.

She widened her eyes to look at his face, completely stunned, not knowing how to react.

The man smiled slightly and leaned in, lowering his voice. “Don’t worry. Once they know this is a painting, a real painting, all the doubts will vanish.”

A girl in the back row was still protesting unhappily. “This is unfair! Getting a Special Prize just by bringing any old photo to the competition is ridiculous. I won’t stand for it!”

“Exactly!” Many voices echoed her, surging forward like a tide.

But Ruan Mian could no longer hear them. She could only hear the voice of the man beside her. She could only hear the deafening sound of her own heartbeat.

He always brought her so many surprises when she least expected it.

Her nervous heart instantly grew still.

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