The Versatile Master Artist

Gu Weijing aimed to become intimately familiar with the overall story and some classic passages.

In the past couple of days, he had already completed character sketches for the three fairy tale roles: the King, the Rose, and the Alcoholic.

In the virtual task bar, the number of line sketches required for ”Heartfelt” had reached [8/20] after a weekend.

Gu Weijing was quite satisfied with the current progress of the task.

At this rate, he estimated the task could be completed at least eight or nine-tenths by the end of the week.

”Little thief?”

Gu Weijing changed the subject, looking at Koukou with confusion: ”Why do you call me that?”

”Heh, my father says that if an ordinary person suddenly becomes wealthy, they’re likely not on a righteous path.”

Koukou stared at Gu Weijing’s eyes like an experienced detective.

”Especially in a place like Myanmar.”

Just when Gu Weijing thought she might pull out a pair of handcuffs from her waist at any moment,

Koukou suddenly playfully blinked.

”Wow, hidden aristocrat! Let’s be friends!”

Gu Weijing had to admit it.

Koukou was quite popular at school for a reason.

She was expressive, cheerful, and came from a well-off family without being arrogant.

Although some jealous female classmates who were envious of Koukou’s popularity would secretly mock her as being loose in her ways,

Gu Weijing never really had any ill feelings towards Koukou.

She was simply cool.

So cool that you never knew what she was going to say next—she was an interesting girl.

”Koukou, our family just runs a small gallery.”

Gu Weijing said helplessly.

”A small gallery can afford a Bentley? That car of yours, converted to Myanmar Kyat, could pay the entire police force in Yangon for a year.”

Koukou tilted her head, as though looking at a dinosaur in human form hidden beside her.

”Being classmates for so many years, I just realized that the real aristocrat was right beside me! Compared to our discreet Young Master Gu, those rich kids at school are nothing!”

She stuck out her tongue.

Bentley?

Gu Weijing thought for a moment and knew Koukou had seen him get into that luxury car from Meiquan Palace Office’s Yangon branch that Friday.

He thought it best not to explain too much about this matter.

Gu Weijing ignored Koukou’s eager gossip-hungry expression and softly said, ”You misunderstood, it was just a coincidence.”

After finishing,

he turned and walked into the classroom.

There was still about half an hour before class started, and in the public studio, a few students were scattered around, with a stern-looking blonde professor at the back of the podium, organizing lesson notes on a computer.

”Look, it’s the top of the grade!”

”The top of the grade couldn’t even get into Professor Cruz’s advanced class, yet someone was saying he was helping Miss Sande Nu with homework—what if it’s the other way around?”

”Miss Sande Nu paired with him? A toad wanting to eat swan meat. That romantic candlelight dinner between the boss and Miss Sande Nu in a high-end restaurant is equivalent to a whole year’s income of his little gallery.”

Laughter with malicious intent came from a corner of the classroom.

Gu Weijing turned his head and saw it was Jerry with a few of his lackeys from the school team.

Their snide remarks weren’t loud, but loud enough for him to hear.

As for the students in the studio who had nothing to do with this, many of them looked on at him with a sense of watching a play.

Gu Weijing shook his head internally.

He guessed Jerry probably orchestrated their mockery of him.

The other party seemed to treat the competition for Mona’s affection as a fiercely contested sports match, doing everything to attack him.

This was probably the equivalent of trash-talking an opponent on the basketball court.

He found it somewhat amusing.

Having been through many things, Gu Weijing wasn’t interested in playing childish games of envy and rivalry with these hormone-charged kids.

He ignored them like ignoring a group of annoying flies, walked to a chair in the corner of the teaching area, and sat down.

Seeing how Gu Weijing seemed to have chickened out in response to their taunts,

the ridicule on their faces intensified, and many idle spectators nearby joined in their discussions with interest.

”Silence! If you want to chat, go outside.”

The noisy chatter in the classroom was affecting the professor behind the podium as he prepared lesson notes, so he raised his hand and tapped the table.

The whispers in the public studio immediately quieted down.

Although nowhere near as intimidating as Mrs. Sakai, the teachers assigned by Fitz International Middle School to prepare the advanced class for the important 13th-grade students were among the most senior professors in the school.

Professor Watter was a German; as a professor from this art-rich country, he not only excelled in sketching but also possessed the characteristic stern personality of the Germanic people.

Unlike those lively American or Canadian foreign teachers full of jokes and laughter, this elderly gentleman who taught sketching was quite strict.

Students generally dared not act recklessly in his classes.

Professor Watter surveyed the classroom with his gaze, seeing the students all behaving obediently like quails, and he nodded in satisfaction.

His eyes finally settled on Gu Weijing in the corner, hesitated for a moment, and spoke.

”Mr. Gu, come over here.”

Gu Weijing looked up. In international schools, teachers usually call students by name, using Mr. or Miss is a very formal way of addressing.

It’s generally not a good thing, usually indicating you made a mistake or it’s a serious occasion.

He bookmarked ”The Little Prince” in his hand and, placing it along with his textbook into the desk drawer, walked to the podium.

Professor Watter stared at Gu Weijing for a moment, then sighed softly.

He had a deep impression of this local boy; originally, his painting skills were among the top in the class, and he was always very serious and diligent.

Professor Watter had always quite liked this child.

Not just because Gu Weijing painted better than his classmates, but because he had a dedication to art that was rare among his peers.

Coming from a developed art country and graduating from a well-known art academy, Professor Watter knew how challenging it was for an art student from a small Southeast Asian place.

What a pity.

Professor Watter didn’t know why Mrs. Sakai hadn’t taken a liking to Gu Weijing.

Maybe the great artist had her unique understanding of art?

”Gu Weijing, don’t be discouraged; there’s still a few months until the admissions meeting, you still have a chance to get into a good university.”

The professor paused for a moment, then spoke softly.

”I looked at your holiday homework, that realistic depiction of the ’Mercedes-Benz S220 antique car’ was well done, the lines and colors were quite good.”

His voice was not small; everyone in the classroom could hear it.

Professor Watter knew this student wasn’t chosen by Mrs. Sakai, and heard he was also dumped by his girlfriend, so his mood must be down.

He was worried that Gu Weijing wouldn’t be able to handle the setback.

”Even if you don’t have the chance to become Mrs. Sakai’s student, in history, students from my advanced class have successfully applied to Kwantlen Art College or Zurich University of the Arts, which are ranked around the 80s and 90s in the world. If all else fails, you can also try Erasmus University Rotterdam, which we have a good relationship with at Fitz.”

Professor Watter spoke with a hint of pride.

Fitz is a prestigious international education group known for its private international middle schools, with branches not only in Yangon but also in Bangkok, Cairo, London, Cape Town, and other places.

Yangon is among the Fitz branches with relatively underdeveloped educational resources, so being able to mentor students who get accepted into art schools ranked in the world’s top hundred not only earns him a corresponding bonus from the school but also gives Professor Watter a sense of achievement.

While tuition fees at private art schools are high, academic performance is also paramount.

Much like in Dongxia, where many high school teachers receive substantial bonuses if they mentor a provincial champion.

If a student from his class were admitted to one of the world’s top art schools,

he might even get a bonus equivalent to a year’s salary and possibly be promoted to a regional vice-principal or something.

Of course, Watter himself wouldn’t harbor such outlandish expectations.

”Keep striving, even if you can’t match those who ascend the Cyan Cloud Ladder, you must work hard for yourself, Mr. Gu Weijing.”

The teacher patted Gu Weijing’s shoulder.