The Versatile Master Artist

When Gu Weijing put down the brush, Uncle Ah Lai was still staring blankly at the sketch paper.

Artworks are bridges that connect the lonely souls.

Art and music classes have always been part of the rehabilitation therapy for autistic children.

Some psychologists also suggest that patients with depression or bipolar disorder, accompanied by family members, should participate in more art exhibitions, art shows.

”Do you like this painting, Uncle?”

Gu Weijing noticed the watchman’s gaze.

”I really like it. I’m starting to understand now why some tycoons are willing to spend a fortune on certain paintings. The emotional comfort brought by this kind of artwork is truly priceless.”

Uncle Ah Lai leaned slightly forward, furrowed his brows, nodding his chin lightly, as if searching for something in the painting.

”That’s the feeling, yes, that’s the feeling...”

”I really like it.”

He pondered for a moment, pulled open a drawer under the table, and from a slightly chipped metal cookie tin, took out a large bundle of colorful Myanmar Kyat.

The watchman, using his finger that was missing a part of the pinky, counted and recounted the bills, calculated an amount, and handed it to Gu Weijing.

”Hm?” Gu Weijing was puzzled.

”Look, it’s not according to Brother Gu’s rules, right? 30,000 Kyat, that’s about fifteen dollars for a painting, or should I just give this money directly to the head of the orphanage?”

Uncle Ah Lai countered.

Gu Weijing smiled wryly.

”What’s the matter, too little? If I were a billionaire like Boss Chen, for this painting, I’d part with a mountain of gold without batting an eyelid. Sadly, I’m just the watchman of an orphanage, earning an honest living. I’m quite poor, and fifteen dollars already takes me a long time to save up.”

The uncle chuckled, his expression even somewhat cunning.

”If you want more, you can take all the money in the cookie tin. But besides these worthless Kyat, I have no other conditions to exchange for this painting, nor will I offer other conditions.”

Uncle Ah Lai’s face had returned to calm.

He stared into Gu Weijing’s eyes, his tone slightly playful: ”What, Brother Gu, you weren’t really expecting that with just a painting, I’d be willing to work myself to the bone for you, right? That price is a bit too black-hearted, isn’t it?”

Gu Weijing continued to smile wryly.

Uncle Ah Lai was indeed a bit moved and sentimental about the sketch, but it was limited to just being moved and sentimental.

The painting is indeed worthy of being called a masterpiece,

For a middle schooler to produce such work, it’s not just a masterpiece, it’s practically a miracle.

However,

if one assumes that a single drawing could overturn someone’s worldview,

that with a pen sketch, someone as experienced in the vicissitudes of life as Uncle Ah Lai, whose heart has been tempered like a reclusive monk, would rise with new thoughts.

Expecting someone to quake in awe and prostrate themselves at the mere sight of it,

is perhaps too far-fetched, naively laughable.

If there are paintings capable of such effects, Gu Weijing doesn’t know.

But a pen sketch reaching the level of an entry-level professional painter’s ”Heartfelt”, surely wouldn’t do it, even the perfect heartfelt doesn’t have such magic power.

He wasn’t that conceited, he didn’t plan on it from the start.

Gu Weijing had other tricks up his sleeve.

He shook his head and handed the sketch paper to the watchman: ”Uncle Ah Lai is joking, I never intended for you to pay, I originally meant to give you this painting.”

”For me? Actually, I think still accepting money would be better... but, if Brother Gu insists on not accepting payment.”

Uncle Ah Lai thought for a moment, and respectfully accepted the sketch paper with both hands.

Then he actually stood up, took a small step back, and bowed seriously to Gu Weijing.

The narrow gatehouse, combined with the watchman’s towering frame, made the respectful bow feel like a small mountain tipping over toward you, overwhelmingly oppressive.

”Thank you, Mr. Gu Weijing, I’m truly honored to receive your work, thank you.”

Gu Weijing hesitated for a moment, but didn’t avoid it.

He knew that if he didn’t let Ah Lai bow, the man would, by no means, accept the painting.

Gu Weijing understood this psychological state, having once harbored such guarded thoughts himself.

After the Spring Festival, when the bald subordinates visited, he handled it the same way.

Receiving a fruit platter meant seeing them off with an equivalent pack of cigarettes.

If one could pay, they’d pay; if not, then a respectful and sincere thanks was in order.

And then there’d be no debts, no entanglements,

leaving no chance for others to latch onto you.

Perhaps aside from the little girl Jasmine, Uncle Ah Lai treats everyone, including Gu Weijing and this disappointing world, with such a distanced attitude.

Think about it.

Even without explicitly saying so, the reason the uncle initially went through the trouble of finding the ”Preaching Journal” for him, was evidently as payment for Gu Weijing being willing to play with little girl Jasmine.

Keeps everything crystal clear, any goodwill is immediately repaid,

not wanting to owe anyone, nor be compelled by favors to do anything he doesn’t want to do, just wishing to live as a watchman.

Gu Weijing looked at Uncle Ah Lai’s pockmarked face, sighing again and again.

How desolate must such a strong man feel toward this world? To build such a hardened shell in social interactions, protecting himself with layers upon layers of armor.

”My story ends here. Brother Gu, you’re always welcome for tea here, or to play with Jasmine. As for other things... let’s not say too much, lest we embarrass each other. I don’t wish to coldly reject you, because Jasmine truly likes you.”