Yingqu Liuzi was pampered by her wealthy daddy.

After moving into the mansion, Shen Yu'an spent more time painting than before.

The studio on the third floor has good lighting and a large space. Paints and brushes are all prepared for him, so he doesn't have to worry about anything and can just focus on painting.

But after drawing for a while, Shen Yu'an encountered a problem.

He felt that his paintings were too conventional. The composition was neat, the colors were stable, and there was nothing wrong with them, but there were also nothing particularly outstanding.

The professor had previously told him he was too conservative and encouraged him to be bolder, but he never knew how to break through that barrier.

One evening, he was staring blankly at a half-finished painting in his studio when Xize came up.

Xize stood behind him for a while, without saying whether the drawing was good or bad, and asked what he was thinking when he drew this.

Shen Yu'an thought for a moment and said that he was thinking about how to make it look good.

Xize said, "Don't think about how to make it look good. Just draw whatever you want."

"Draw whatever you think of?"

"Okay. Draw whatever you think looks good, don't worry about what others think."

Shen Yu'an listened and thought for a while. The next day, he laid out a new canvas without thinking about the composition or color scheme.

He recalled that evening by the Thames, the color of the river, the silhouette of Big Ben, and Caesar sitting beside him. Without thinking much, he began to write.

He spent two days painting this picture.

Unlike his previous meticulous works, his lines are looser and his colors are bolder.

He was shocked when he saw the finished painting, feeling it was completely different from his previous style. But it did look much better, with a vibrant feel to it.

When Nishizawa saw this painting in his studio, he stood in front of it and looked at it for a long time.

"From now on, draw in this style."

"Is it really good-looking?"

"Really." Caesar turned to look at him. "You're suited to this style of drawing."

Shen Yu'an felt a little embarrassed by the praise, but was happy inside.

He painted several more later, all in this more relaxed style.

When I get into a rhythm, inspiration strikes. Sometimes, if a scene comes to mind in the middle of the night, I get up and go to the studio, painting until the early hours of the morning before going to sleep.

Xize never stopped him. He would just put a cup of hot milk on the studio table when he went upstairs in the middle of the night, tell him not to paint too late, and then leave.

When Shen Yu'an woke up the next morning, the milk cup had been taken away, and there was a note on the table with only the word "Good morning" written on it.

Shen Yu'an felt that Xize was his best audience.

No matter what he drew, Xize would look at it very carefully and then point out what was good and what room for improvement.

It wasn't the kind of perfunctory praise; it was serious and meaningful.

Once, Shen Yu'an painted a very small piece of art, but he was not satisfied with it and wanted to throw it away.

Xize saw it, picked it up and examined it for a while, then said to keep it and hang it at the end of the corridor.

Shen Yu'an said the painting was crooked and ugly. Xize said no, that crooked one had its own unique charm.

Shen Yu'an felt warm inside for a long time after hearing this.

Nishizawa's birthday is coming soon.

When Shen Yu'an saw that date on the calendar, he started thinking about what to give her.

Xize has everything and is not lacking in anything. Shen Yu'an thought about it for a long time and finally decided to paint a portrait.

He secretly found a photo of Xize, taken with that old camera.

This photo was taken by Shen Yu'an in the car on the way back from the market that day, showing the moment Xize looked up at the camera.

The expression in that photo was relaxed, with the corners of his mouth slightly upturned and his eyes looking straight ahead, much more natural than his usual deliberately posed portraits.

Shen Yu'an printed out the photos and put them in his studio, painting them every day when Xize was not around.

He painted slowly, trying to capture every detail accurately: the color of the eyes, the curve of the brow bone, the line of the nose, and the outline of the lips.

While he was painting, he kept thinking about Xize, the way he looked at him, the sound of him calling him "baby," and the warmth of him holding him in front of the fireplace.

He spent nearly two weeks painting this picture.

I paint for several hours every day, and sometimes if I don't paint well, I scrape it off and start over.

On the day he finished painting, he took the painting down from the easel and looked at it. He felt that he could tell it was Nishizawa, but there was something different about it compared to the photo.

Shen Yu'an himself couldn't explain it. Perhaps he was thinking too much while painting, and those thoughts unconsciously seeped into his brushstrokes.

On the morning of her birthday, when Shen Yu'an got up, Xize had already gone to the study.

He quietly wrapped the painting in its frame, took it down, and placed it on the dining table. When it was time for breakfast, he pushed the wrapped painting in front of Xize.

"Happy birthday."

Xize looked at the rectangular picture frame wrapped in kraft paper, then glanced at Shen Yu'an. Shen Yu'an's ears were red, and she was fidgeting with her fingers on her knees, not daring to look at him.

Nishizawa unwrapped the packaging paper.

He paused for a moment when the painting was revealed.

Shen Yu'an watched his expression nervously, waiting for him to say something. Xize stared at the painting for a long time, so long that Shen Yu'an's heart was pounding so hard it was almost deafening.

"Did you draw this?"

"Um."

Xize didn't speak, his hand resting on the edge of the frame, his thumb gently rubbing the surface of the canvas. He looked at his own eyes in the painting, then glanced up at Shen Yu'an.

"How long did it take to draw?"

"More than two weeks."

Xize turned the picture frame around and looked at it again in the light.

Shen Yu'an saw his Adam's apple move, as if he were swallowing some emotion. He became even more nervous and whispered, "Is it not good?"

Xize put down the picture frame, stood up, and walked around to Shen Yu'an's chair.

He bent down and kissed Shen Yu'an on the top of her head, a deep kiss filled with suppressed emotion.

"Great, that's a wonderful drawing."

Shen Yu'an breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at him.

There was a light in Xize's eyes, not the usual restrained gentleness, but an undisguised, slightly moist brightness.

"You drew me so well," Caesar said.

"No, you've always been like this."

Xize didn't say anything, but lowered his head and kissed his forehead again. Then he picked up the painting, turned around, left the restaurant, and went straight to his study.

Shen Yu'an followed him and saw him standing in front of the desk, hanging the portrait on the wall directly opposite the chair.

That spot was the best location in the study, where he could usually see it just by looking up.

There used to be an old oil painting hanging there, but it was taken down and placed next to it.

"Hang it here," Xize stepped back two paces to look at it, then stepped forward and adjusted the angle of the frame, "so you can see it every day."

Shen Yu'an stood at the door of the study, watching Xize's back as he carefully adjusted the picture frame, and her nose tingled with emotion.

He walked over and hugged Xize from behind, pressing his face against Xize's back.

"I'm glad you like it."

Xize's hand covered his hand that was wrapped around his waist and gently held it.

"Draw me a picture every year on my birthday from now on."

"Then you must live to be a hundred years old, and I'll paint many of them."

"OK."

Shen Yu'an smiled slightly against his back and then remained silent.

The study was quiet, and sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on the newly hung portrait.

In the painting, Xize has his head slightly raised, a slight smile on his lips, and his gray-blue eyes looking ahead.

The brushstrokes in that painting were much looser than Shen Yu'an's previous style, but the emotions conveyed within were still very clear.

I love every single stroke.