Chapter 54: If You Want to Learn, Just Come and Ask Me
“Brother Li, I’m here to return your books—oh! Brother Li, you’re painting. What kind of painting is it? Let me have a look, let me study it,” said Zhang Xiaolan, lightly knocking at the door before entering the room. She had come to return the books, but upon seeing Li Rui painting, her curiosity was piqued, and she stepped forward eagerly to catch a glimpse.
“It’s just a few casual strokes, nothing finished yet,” Li Rui replied, somewhat flustered as he hurried over, trying to stop Zhang Xiaolan from approaching.
“You won’t let me see?” Zhang Xiaolan could clearly tell Li Rui was trying to prevent her, but her curiosity had been awakened and she was determined to see for herself.
“I haven’t finished it yet... Lanlan, perhaps you can see it another time...” Li Rui’s face was troubled as he watched Zhang Xiaolan persist, unwilling to physically block her, until she finally saw his painting. Her reaction, however, left Li Rui disappointed.
“Is this a painting of me?” Zhang Xiaolan immediately recognized herself in the portrait, picked it up and examined it for a moment before setting it down.
“Yes, it’s from the first time I met you. Your attire then was—unforgettable,” Li Rui explained, his eyes glancing furtively at Zhang Xiaolan, watching her apparent indifference toward the painting.
“You must think it’s strange, but you’ve painted me more beautifully than I really am. Thank you, Brother Li, for your exquisite brushwork. And your landscape paintings are truly remarkable—each piece is vivid, lifelike, and full of spirit,” Zhang Xiaolan praised him, but her gaze was already wandering to other paintings. She picked up brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone from the table, examining each in turn.
“Lanlan, you flatter me. It’s just something I do when I have nothing else to occupy me, nothing particularly skilled,” Li Rui said, feeling a touch of disappointment. He had hoped Zhang Xiaolan would be delighted, but her indifference made him wonder if his paintings weren’t good enough.
“Brother Li, you are far too modest. I studied painting for a few years as a child, and you’re no lesser than many ancient masters—your works are first-rate,” Zhang Xiaolan said, restoring his confidence. Her words were sincere.
“Lanlan, you understand painting!” Li Rui exclaimed, excited as if he had found a kindred spirit, never expecting that Zhang Xiaolan also knew the art.
“I wouldn’t say I’m skilled, but I do enjoy it. If Brother Li could teach me more in the future, I’m sure I could learn your true techniques,” she replied. Zhang Xiaolan had indeed learned a little in her childhood, which later benefited her archaeological work. Though she studied modern sketching rather than traditional painting, she often saw such works—her former mentor was also a lover of painting.
“Lanlan, if you want to learn, just come and ask me anytime,” Li Rui said, feeling their shared interests and conversation would bring them closer in the future.
That evening, Zhang Xiaolan sat in the courtyard enjoying the cool air. Xiao Lian had sliced some fruit for her to taste, and as Zhang Xiaolan looked up at the moon, she asked,
“Xiao Lian, the moon seems quite round tonight.”
“Yes, in a few days it’ll be the fifteenth of August, so the moon is naturally round,” Xiao Lian replied, recalling that the full moon was approaching. In August, the moon was always at its largest and roundest.
“So it’s almost the Mid-Autumn Festival,” Zhang Xiaolan murmured, suddenly feeling a pang of sorrow. The full moon and Mid-Autumn were days of reunion.
“Mid-Autumn Festival? What kind of festival is that? We have a moon worship ceremony here,” Xiao Lian said, unfamiliar with the Mid-Autumn Festival but aware of the autumn traditions.
“That’s right, in your dynasty the Mid-Autumn Festival doesn’t exist yet. In my era, it’s a day when families gather together,” Zhang Xiaolan explained, realizing the festival would not become a fixed tradition for several centuries, and knowing Xiao Lian would not understand her words.