A Moment Too Late (GL) - Chapter 31

Shu Yubai’s painting was scheduled to be auctioned at 9:00 PM.

“Aunt Zhang?”

Nan Xue got out of bed and went downstairs, where she saw Aunt Zhang tidying up some clutter. She asked softly, “What’s your ID number?”

She lowered her voice, seemingly afraid her father might hear—he had gone to the third floor to work, and when he was working, he was completely oblivious to everything. There was no real need for Nan Xue to be so cautious. What was she up to?

“What’s the matter, young lady?”

Aunt Zhang set down her broom and sat on a small stool nearby, noticing Nan Xue’s anxious expression.

Usually, Nan Xue was a quiet child, even somewhat indifferent, rarely showing any urgency or emotion.

“What do you need it for?”

“I need to register an account.”

Aunt Zhang didn’t understand these things but trusted that Nan Xue wouldn’t use it for anything bad, so she gave her the number.

Nan Xue entered the number on the screen, and they checked it again together. With a sigh of relief, Nan Xue went back upstairs.

“Take it slow.”

Aunt Zhang watched her tall figure and smiled.

Nan Xue opened her laptop, sat down, and began typing furiously with her slender fingers, registering an account using her own ID number. She opened two identical web pages and logged into different accounts, then sat quietly waiting.

A cold breeze blew in, carrying the chill from outside, making it quite cold.

Nan Xue got up and pushed the door to the terrace shut.

Outside was an observation deck with a thin layer of circulating water, which hadn’t yet frozen in the winter. Snow covered a small glass table with a few books on it, likely left by her father.

Nan Xue refocused on the screen.

The auction had started.

••••

Elsewhere.

“Mom, what’s going on?”

Shu Yubai was sitting on the living room sofa with her laptop. Her mother, who was watching TV, turned her head upon hearing the question. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s a bit strange.”

Shu Yubai turned the screen towards her mother and said, “My painting shouldn’t be worth this much.”

She had her long hair pinned up, with a white and slender neck slightly bent as she stared at the rising numbers on the screen, full of confusion—there were two people bidding against each other.

The bidding interval was five minutes. If no new bids were placed within that time, the price would be finalized.

Initially, there were four or five people bidding, but after a while, the price was raised so high that only three bidders remained. Later, the price reached an incredible level, leaving only two bidders.

Shu Yubai furrowed her brow and asked, “What should I do? The final price is higher than my mentor’s.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Li Nian looked at the numbers on the screen and said, “Could it be because you just won a silver award and people think it has investment potential?”

“That’s unlikely.”

Shu Yubai sighed, thinking maybe it was just two wealthy people competing with each other.

Half an hour later, the bidding finally stopped.

Shu Yubai’s tense back relaxed slowly.

She returned to her room, still feeling uneasy, and contacted customer service.

It was common for artists to auction their own works, and some even hired people to artificially inflate the prices to mislead outsiders. But she couldn’t do that.

Shu Yubai: Hello, may I have the buyer’s contact information?

Shu Yubai: There seems to be an issue with the price, and I need to contact the buyer directly.

After a while, customer service replied: Sorry, miss, buyer information is confidential to protect their privacy.

Confidential?

Shu Yubai leaned back in her chair, thinking it was impossible to have the platform lower the price since they charged a commission based on the auction price. The higher the price, the higher the commission, and they wouldn’t easily give up the chance to earn money.

She thought for a moment and asked customer service again: If the buyer is willing to provide contact information, can I get it?

Customer service: That situation is allowed.

A minute later, customer service sent the buyer’s information.

It was an elderly lady in her fifties.

Shu Yubai hesitated for a moment, then added the number to her WeChat.

The profile picture was a blank white, offering no clues.

After a while, the friend request was accepted.

Shu Yubai looked at the chat window, her fingertips trembling slightly, and sent a cute emoji.

After a long time, there was no reply.

Shu Yubai thought that perhaps older people weren’t very adept with smartphones, so she decided to go to bed.

She needed to be well-rested for her meeting with her mentor the next day.

Meanwhile, Nan Xue looked at the newly added friend on her secondary account.

— When she registered the account, she used Aunt Zhang’s ID but a different, less frequently used phone number of her own.

Resting her chin on her hand, she stared at the screen, pondering over the cute kitten emoji.

••••

The next morning.

“Teacher?”

Shu Yubai gently knocked on the door of the studio.

The studio was located on the roadside, lined with tall plane trees. In winter, there were no green leaves, only the pale trunks and branches reaching towards the blue sky. The black asphalt road seemed slightly damp. This area was close to several scenic spots by the lake, making it very clean.

Shu Yubai looked at the sign hanging on the door, with copper-green lettering.

Since it was still early, there weren’t many people on the road.

She had arranged to meet her mentor at this time.

“Good morning, Xiao Shu.”

A woman opened the door and smiled at her.

The mentor, Su Hanting, was relatively young and had two children who were still in elementary school.

She wore a light moon-white qipao, was not very tall, and had gold-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Her voice was soft and gentle.

“Teacher, it’s been a while.”

Shu Yubai smiled lightly and handed over a basket of fruit she had brought. The mentor thanked her repeatedly upon seeing it.

Su Hanting’s studio was meticulously arranged. The entrance had a small pond with flowing water, shallow and home to a few green fish swimming slowly. The walls were adorned with her collection of paintings and works she was proud of, making it feel more like a small exhibition space than just a studio.

The first floor was filled with paintings, and Su Hanting led her upstairs.

“Please, sit.”

A large, elegant table was covered with rice paper and paint palettes piled in front.

It was a bit messier than downstairs, with practice sketches scattered around. The faint scent of paint and rice paper in the air was calming.

Su Hanting also had a student working quietly on a painting. She introduced the student as her niece, still young and also aspiring to enter the art academy.

The little girl looked up and gave Shu Yubai a shy smile when she saw her.

“Come.”

The mentor helped her set up the drawing paper and said directly, “Show me what you can do.”

Impromptu creation?

Shu Yubai had intended to show her previously submitted works, but now she didn’t know what to do.

She worried that her occasionally sharp wrist pain might act up, and if the mentor knew about her hand issues, she might think she was ruined for good.

Shu Yubai felt a bit nervous, her heart racing, and her back breaking out in a cold sweat.

She picked up her brush and turned to ask softly, “What should I draw?”

Su Hanting thought for a moment and said, “Don’t make it too complicated, just draw a wild duck.”

This request was simply to see how her student’s basic skills had developed. In the past, when she mentored Shu Yubai, she really liked this student, staying up late to paint with her, and she had participated in many prestigious exhibitions that even older artists couldn’t get into.

She had also won many gold awards.

After graduation, news of her became scarce.

Su Hanting was puzzled, thinking she might have married and had children—many women do this, and their careers often suffer.

After graduation, she no longer had as much time for painting as she did during her student years.

Many people experience a decline in their basic skills.

She focused intently on Shu Yubai’s brush tip.

Shu Yubai’s fingertips trembled, but the sudden sharp pain hadn’t yet struck.

She began to paint; a small black dot appeared on the soft rice paper, followed by smooth, elastic lines. The wolf hair brush, dampened by the thin paper, glided gently backward. The brushwork was already quite good.

The duck’s beak, eyes, and feathers.

Fluffy feathers and stiff black tail feathers.

Then the broad feet.

Su Hanting observed closely, and the young girl painting beside her also leaned over to look.

Shu Yubai’s hand trembled violently, causing the brush to fall again.

A dark blotch ruined the entire painting.

“What’s wrong?”

Su Hanting frowned. “Are you not feeling well?”

Shu Yubai had put in her utmost effort to perfect the lines, and this performance was already the peak state of these days.

She had brought out her best skills.

“The brushwork is a bit erratic, and the pressure of the strokes is not evident. The feathers should be fluffy, not so solid; you pressed too hard. And what’s with that last dot?”

Su Hanting was like this.

She appeared gentle, but she was ruthless in critiquing her students.

She continued, quickly pointing out all the faults in Shu Yubai’s work.

Shu Yubai kept her head down, her face pale, her right hand trembling constantly.

“What’s wrong with your hand?”

Su Hanting looked at her.

“It’s nothing.”

Shu Yubai tried to hide it, gently pinching it with her left hand.

Su Hanting came over, bent down, and examined her right hand, smiling. “If it’s uncomfortable, just say so. Why be so nervous? I’m not going to eat you.”

Unable to hide it any longer, Shu Yubai decided to be straightforward. Su Hanting showed little expression, only a small amount of surprise before understanding. She thought, so that’s why she went silent after graduation—her hand was injured.

That’s still manageable.

As long as her spirit was intact, things could be handled.

The trouble was if the spirit was lost.

“How about this?”

Su Hanting looked at her and said softly, “Since you’ve also studied Western painting, you don’t have to be so fixated. The previous advantage is gone, but it’s a good opportunity for you to explore new areas.”

She reached for the phone on the table, unlocked the screen, and searched for contacts.

“How about you learn from my teacher?”

“He will be more suitable for you.”

“I’ll inform him in advance, and you can visit him then.”

She made the call, spoke courteously with her teacher, and explained Shu Yubai’s situation before thanking him repeatedly and hanging up.

“I’ve arranged it for you.”

Su Hanting said, “You should visit him on Sunday. He happens to be in town right now; he might leave soon.”

Shu Yubai was somewhat flustered and repeatedly thanked her before remembering to ask.

“May I ask, what is your teacher’s teacher called?”

Su Hanting smiled. “His surname is Ying, and his name is Ying Ran. You can call him Teacher Ying.”

Shu Yubai: “…”

Su Hanting looked at her in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

••••

After leaving the studio, Shu Yubai stood by the roadside.

In the morning, the weather was clear, but there was still some snow left in the roadside grass, and the air had a chilly scent.

It was close to home, so she hadn’t driven.

A taxi passed by on the asphalt road. Shu Yubai waved, the car stopped, and she got in.

The car was warm, with fogged-up windows. Outside, everything was a white blur. She took out her phone, and a few unread messages popped up. The elderly lady who had bid the high price for the painting last night had replied.

Shu Yubai was curious and smiled slightly as she glanced at the messages.

The reply came a day later.

The message included the same soft and playful emoji.

It also said: [Hello, Miss.]

Shu Yubai shivered slightly.

Shu Yubai: [Hello.]

Shu Yubai: [The price of the painting last night was too high; my painting is not worth that much.]

Shu Yubai: [How about I refund the money, and you return the painting to me?]

This time, the reply was instantaneous: [I think it’s worth it.]

It also said: [I really like your painting; even if it’s not worth much now, it will be in the future.]

Shu Yubai’s pale fingers trembled as she wasn’t sure what to say. Her nose felt a bit sore.

After a while, she asked: [May I ask what you are called?]

The reply: [My surname is Zhang.]

Shu Yubai: According to the information from the customer service, you are 50 years old.

Shu Yubai: [Can I call you Aunt Zhang?]

There was a long silence.

After a while, the reply came: [Sorry, Miss, you made a mistake.]

The reply continued: [I am her granddaughter.]