134 Painting of a Masterpiece [II]

As he sat on the small stool, Zhao Wei intensely gazed at the blank canvas. From that white canvas with vast possibilities, he could already visualize the image he wanted to capture.

Standing amidst the exquisite blooms, Yun Yao set her body free. She didn't want to act or try to think of different poses. She wanted to be herself in that moment, free from inhibitions, pressure, or responsibilities. Only by letting her inner spirit guide her could she give Zhao Wei the chance to capture her as a whole. Even though she was an alchemist, Yun Yao had little knowledge of the Dao of Painting. 

Zhao Wei smiled softly as he looked at the only mature flower in the vicinity. With his paintbrush suspended over the canvas, he resembled a painter who had suddenly encountered a creative block. Zhao Wei's vision had no hurdle; what he was doing was only drinking in an image that was going to forever be part of his memories.

Yun Yao was simply a delight to the eye.

Noticing his intense gaze and lack of movements, Yun Yao chuckled, her melodious voice syncing with the sun-kissed petals dancing in the breeze.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

A small smile played on his lips. "What else can a painter do but observe what they wish to capture on their canvas?"

"Your eyes and expression didn't feel that way," Yun Yao retorted with a playful smirk.

"Oh, what did they seem like then?" He questioned with interest, leaning back to look at her directly.

"Enamored, or perhaps even smitten... I'm not sure." She tapped on her chin, her face gazing upwards in thought before she answered with uncertainty laced in her voice.

Zhao Wei twirled the painting brush between his fingers, not missing a beat as he suppressed a laugh.

"That was the part of the plan anyway. You are stunningly beautiful. At this moment, your beauty shines more even than the morning sun," he shamelessly spoke with a straight face.

"That's cliche, you know that. You need to work on your cheesy lines, young man," Yun Yao pouted her lips whilst lightly shaking her head in pity. However, her cheeks reddened as she tried to mask her transient shyness with false bravado.

His words, as cheesy as they were, made her heart go into overdrive, beating with an intensity that terrified her. She subconsciously let those feelings guide her actions as she gracefully walked around the mid-sized garden. Her delicate fingers traced the soft contours of the chrysanthemum petals, finding them the perfect distraction from Zhao Wei's eyes.

"Stop acting cute, Yao'er. That's not the image I am looking for, from you," Zhao Wei said nonchalantly, his hand returning to the blank canvas.

"I-I am not trying to be cute, damn it." Yun Yao balled both of her hands in anger and embarrassment. She stared at Zhao Wei with undisguised venom in her eyes, as if looks could poison, Zhao Wei would have been long dead.

But here was the problem: Zhao Wei was impervious to most poisons.

"Yes, yes. That's what I am looking for. The raw, unfiltered emotions stemming from the depths of your emotions. However, this is not what I am looking for." Zhao Wei spoke in a low voice but his eyes held a manic glint.

Yun Yao breathed out softly and reined in her temper.

"Now that you have calmed down, I want you to remember that moment that you have ever felt truly happy, beyond excited after success or just a past memory..." Zhao Wei shared what he was looking for by explaining his thoughts to her.

Yun Yao silently nodded.

"You can do whatever you like, let it all out. This time I am doing this for real... I won't interfere with you." Zhao Wei rubbed his nose.

"Okay. Alright." Seeing him quite embarrassed by his past actions, put a refreshing grin on her face. Noticing his lax but serious expression, she softly chuckled.

'He won't be causing trouble anytime soon.'

Yun Yao then began to sift through her memories, of the moment where she had been truly excited, thrilled, and high beyond measure. What was that moment? She thought.

Her hazel eyes shone brightly as she remembered. It was something that was connected to her journey as an Alchemist. It was when she had been a mere beginner, with no technical knowledge about the boundless Dao of Alchemy. It was a time when she had been a mere youngster, still wet behind the ears. That moment had been her first-ever success in creating her first pill. With a nostalgic look plastered on her beautiful face, Yun Yao found herself recounting the details of that moment. She felt Zhao Wei could listen to any of her ramblings without throwing any judgments around.

"I haven't always been a genius, you could say, I never was born a genius. Others will term it as a late awakening. Just know in my earlier years when I had been a clueless young girl yearning for the mysterious alchemical practices, I had been, hmph, a hardcore struggler." She talked with carefree energy, her tone amused as she shared some of her past.

"Mmm hmm." Zhao Wei observed her enthusiasm, her poise, and the tension gradually leaving her body. She was at her most powerful state as she introduced him into her muddled past, of a gem yet to be polished. Simultaneously and effortlessly, Zhao Wei began making strokes on the canvas with the painting brush. At that moment, he embodied her emotions, her past frustrations when she struggled to make beginner-level pills, her frustrations when her late teacher sternly corrected her mistakes but still with patience...

It was a cosmic, artistic, empathetic link, something that could only be born when a painter embodied their subject's emotions across time and space. Yun Yao's silhouette cast a shadow over the flowers surrounding her. Her laughter became unfettered when she reached that point in the narration where she used to explode many cauldrons.

Her long red hair cascading wildly in waves, down her shoulders, got blown by the winter wind and she instinctively swept them into place with her fingers.

Zhao Wei continued painting, his strokes filled with intent and perfect precision. He poured his admiration for untamed, mature beauty. Of ambitions and a youthful past. He was capturing the essence of the moment that entailed Yun Yao who stood at the crux of it all. The morning sun, the garden of words and flowers, the beautiful woman...

Before long, Zhao Wei gracefully made the final stroke of the yet-to-be-unveiled masterpiece.

Yun Yao, whose mind had begun to return to the present, sensed Zhao Wei's finality. She couldn't wait to see how he had drawn her.

'This is going to be his present to me.' She thought as she brusquely walked over and settled behind his back. She didn't give any thought to her act of impatience and lack of physical boundaries.

What mattered most at that moment was the painting. However, the moment her eyes fell on the now masterfully filled canvas, the words that were about to come off her lips, quickly evaporated. Her small mouth widened and then closed again due to the shock, surprise, and disbelief.

Unconsciously, she gently palmed her mouth as a lone tear left her eye, slowly trickling down her smooth cheek.

"You-You... what have you done?" Yun Yao stammered, her voice slightly trembling.

Zhao Wei changed his posture and turned his head to face Yun Yao when he heard the choke in her voice. When Zhao Wei saw her cry, his brows arched in complete surprise.

"Why are you crying?"

Yun Yao didn't answer him and dramatically pointed her trembling finger at the painting. A painting that perfectly blended various aspects of aesthetics and beauty, perfection and imperfection, happiness and sorrow... the emotions of the past and the present coinciding that it felt contradictory.

"It's the most beautiful thing I have ever set my eyes on."

"It feels so unreal that I fear if I blink even once, everything I have seen so far will disappear like an illusion." Yun Yao inhaled and exhaled soundly before she spoke with utmost sincerity. The evaluation came from her heart, mind, and instincts.

Zhao Wei just smiled as he gazed back at the painting. Is it weird that he didn't feel any connection to his creation? As if he was a mere third-person observer?

Truthfully, he had no over-the-top evaluation of his own painting, but rather appreciated the gesture behind it. It was meant to be a gift. That's the problem with most artists. Even though their creations are nearly perfect, they will never see the perfection that others see in them.

'I think the beauty of painting is within perfection but the thoughts, emotions, essence, intent captured in the portrait.' Zhao Wei reflected on his own simplistic views.

"You can take it, Yun Yao. It's now yours. Forever." Zhao Wei gave the painting a last look before giving it to Yun Yao. However, she kept on refusing, saying that it was too precious.

"Then I am going to..." Zhao Wei pretended to throw it but swiftly, Yun Yao restrained his arm and shamelessly glued herself to him. If it were not for Zhao Wei's unprecedented reflexes and body control, then they would have fallen to the ground. Just like a typical romance novel, right?

Zhao Wei blatantly defied that troupe.

"You have no shame gluing your body to me like that, Miss Yun," Zhao Wei spoke in a mocking tone, a knowing smirk tugging the corners of his lips.

"I don't give a f***! Aren't you enjoying it, Mister Zhao?" Yun Yao spat out with equal mockery.

"No, no. You aren't supposed to say that. I am the one to say that."

"You are being misogynistic."

"And you are being unreasonable."

"More like... being honest."

"..."

"..."

Under the golden brilliance of the sun, an intermix of deep and soft bursts of laughter echoed in the large courtyard, and the winds of change carried with them the scent of an evolving relationship.

It was a heartwarming moment for troublesome individuals!

***

enjoy!