The antique girlfriend of a chaebol heir

After the instructor finished his demonstration, the students returned to their seats, still wanting more.

A short while later, the master craftsman's apprentice brought over a large cardboard box containing a kit of materials for the inner painting experience, prepared for the club members.

Shen Ci opened her own share.

Inside were three smooth, frosted glass jars of various shapes, some round and some square. There were also several special brushes of different sizes, and a small box of exquisite traditional Chinese painting pigments.

In addition, the master craftsman thoughtfully prepared a thick stack of Xuan paper for each student to practice their brushwork before officially putting the teapot into the pot.

"Frosted teapots are for beginners," the master craftsman's voice came from the front of the classroom. He had already packed up his sandalwood box and was leaning against the window, basking in the sun. "The inner surface is rough, so it's easy for the color to adhere, and it's more forgiving. Once you students have a steady hand, then you can try the crystal ones."

Of the fifteen members of the club, the majority are art students.

For them, who were used to wielding their brushes on canvas and rice paper, this novel way of creating art was simply irresistibly attractive.

As soon as the materials were distributed, many people eagerly picked up their pens, ready to show off their skills.

Shen Ci did not rush to dip her brush in paint. Instead, she picked up a medium-sized brush and gently rubbed the handle with her fingertips, carefully feeling the hardness and elasticity of the wolf hair at the tip.

After confirming the feel of the ink, she held her breath, dipped her brush in light ink, and made the first stroke in the center of the rice paper.

The moment the brush touches the paper, the stiffness of the wolf hair is clearly transmitted to the fingertips—

It's not the gentle softness of a calligraphy brush, but a stubbornness with joints that requires you to adapt.

She tried to draw a horizontal line, twisting her wrist inward, and the pen tip dragged a crooked ink mark on the paper, uneven in thickness, with a blurry ink stain at the end.

"My God, this is so hard!" she heard someone in the row in front of her complain quietly. "My hands, which I've used to draw all my life, are like they're crippled now."

Shen Ci pushed the scrap of paper aside, laid out a new one, and began to write again.

This time she slowed down, moving her wrist almost by the millimeter, feeling the angle of friction between the wolf hair brush and the paper as it moved in the opposite direction.

The ink line is still not straight enough, but the ink stain at the end is much smaller.

Sunlight streamed in from the side window, casting a small, bright patch of light near her hand.

Shen Ci turned slightly to the side, allowing the light to illuminate the paper just right, and then continued drawing—horizontal, vertical, left-falling, and right-falling strokes, all in reverse, all awkward, requiring a struggle against the instincts of her fingers.

Her brows furrowed unconsciously, her lips tightened slightly, and her gaze was fixed on the wandering ink line, as if the whole world had shrunk to just this piece of paper and this pen.

Everyone else had already started experimenting with painting in the frosted teapot, but Shen Ci was still repeatedly practicing on the rice paper with her brush.

After repeated exploration and practice, Shen Ci finally gained some control over the strength of her wrist.

She put down her pen and pushed a thick stack of paper covered with reverse lines to the corner of the table. The corners of the paper were already slightly curled up, and it was densely covered with the traces of horizontal, vertical, diagonal, and diagonal strokes.

After stretching her slightly sore wrists, Shen Ci selected a frosted glass flask with a relatively wide opening from the materials kit.

In her previous life, she loved calligraphy and painting, especially painting orchids.

She turned her head slightly and, using the bright natural light in the lecture hall, carefully observed the subtle curves of the inner wall of the frosted teapot.

The curved surface of glass can create a unique sense of depth in a flat composition.

She quickly conceived a minimalist orchid design in her mind.

With the idea in mind, Shen Ci no longer hesitated.

She held the pot steadily with her left hand, and with her right hand, she held the wolf-hair brush and gently inserted the tip of the brush into the pot along the mouth of the bottle.

Through the frosted glass wall, she precisely locked onto the starting point on the inner wall, then held her breath and gently rotated and paused her wrist on the outside of the pot.

As the brush tip moved silently across the inner wall, a faint trace of ink slowly spread inside the pot.

That was the first stroke of the painting on the orchid leaf. Although she was painting inside the pot in reverse, her solid painting skills made the lines long and resilient, like silkworms spinning silk.

Shen Ci was completely immersed in her own world. The surrounding noise seemed to have faded away, and all she could see was the orchid in the pot that was slowly unfurling.

Before we knew it, the clock had quietly struck ten, and the door to the lecture hall was gently pushed open.

As soon as Lin Ruochen entered, his gaze involuntarily swept past the crowd and settled on Shen Ci's quiet and focused back.

When Teacher Du warmly greeted him, he casually looked away and turned to ask, "How's it going?"

Teacher Du smiled and shook his head, patiently explaining, "The art of inside painting emphasizes 'a thousand miles in an inch,' requiring years of study and skill development. You students have only just begun, and haven't even mastered the brushstrokes yet, so your finished products are definitely not presentable."

At this point, Teacher Du changed the subject.

"However, in our club's plan, the focus of inner painting is also on 'understanding' and 'experience'."

"Once the students have gained a basic understanding, we plan to hold another exhibition. At that time, on the one hand, we will exhibit some classic works by masters to broaden the horizons of all teachers and students; on the other hand, we will also allow students to create some simple cartoon inside-painted works on the spot."

"This kind of exhibition that combines tradition and modernity can both lower the threshold and achieve a good publicity effect."

As she spoke, she glanced at the old man sunbathing by the window, and her voice lowered even further.

"I've also spoken with the master craftsmen. They understand and say that young people should first be interested before discussing passing on the tradition; it can't be rushed. They will also do their best to cooperate with the later exhibitions."

Lin Ruochen gave a faint "hmm" and said nothing more, walking down the corridor into the depths of the classroom.

As Teacher Du said, looking around, the students' work on their desks was indeed "appalling".

The inner walls of most of the frosted glass teapots were completely blackened, with paint and ink smeared together haphazardly, making it impossible to piece together a complete shape. It was a real waste of the good materials prepared by the master craftsman.

Lin Ruochen paused slightly as he saw a boy using the handle of a crimping pen to scrape the inner wall of the paper. The ink shavings that came off fell onto the table like a small pile of burnt paper ash.

"Stop shaving," he couldn't help but say, "it'll only make it dirtier."

The boy was startled, nearly plunging his pen into the kettle. He looked up and saw it was him, his face turning bright red: "Professor Lin..."

Lin Ruochen didn't say anything more and continued walking forward.

In contrast, the art students still had a solid foundation. Although their lines were a bit rough and stiff, upon closer inspection, one could at least make out the outlines of flowers, plants, insects, and fish.

However, when Lin Ruochen stopped beside Shen Ci, his gaze froze instantly.

turn out to be--

There are indeed differences between people.