294 Priorities of the Artist

Inadvertently, a face and name suddenly appeared in Yujia's mind. It was the same face as Yu Zixu, but his name was different. Wu Hao: her high school crush 

She thought things had changed. She thought that she had improved. But maybe she really hadn't, since it was that unrequited love all over again. She was still the same as before, never speaking up about her true feelings.

When had she started liking Yu Zixu? 

Not when they first met, that was for sure. It wasn't love at first sight, even when he shared the same face as her old crush. Perhaps it was after he saved her from drowning, and when she caught a cold, he bought medicine for her. Perhaps it was after the two of them drank wine under the stars. Perhaps it was after they were lost in the woods for a night. Perhaps it was after she took care of him when he was ill. 

She couldn't name an exact moment. All she knew was that she liked him, that it hurt to do so, and that she didn't want to feel these messy emotions anymore.

It was stupid to cry over this, out of all things.

Yujia let out a deep sigh, then stood up. She went to fetch a towel and basin in her room, wiped her face with that cool water, and stopped her tears from continuing to fall. 

The world was big and beautiful, and she had plenty of things to do. Twenty-four years of her life before had zero romance, and things didn't need to be different now. If anything, she should continue focusing on her career and paintings.

She wanted to continue to improve in her art. In the past, she hadn't cared for her skill level at all too much— as long as it earned her money— but now, her passion for art which had died so long ago was finally beginning to be rekindled. Ruining her excitement for painting from crying and heartbreak all day long was not what she wanted. 

Yujia was positive that Zixu didn't like her romantically, but besides that, Yu Zixu was the son of an old man she was supposed to be married to. Even if they mutually liked each other, the two had no chance. Love was irrational, so she hadn't considered this in the past. But now, she could look through things with a logical lens. In this day and age, they were never fated to be together to begin with.

This was the reality that she faced, and she wasn't one to continue pointless delusions forever. And if there was one thing Yujia had always been good at, it would be cutting her feelings off and moving on that way. It wasn't the most ideal coping method in life overall, but in this case, it was the best and easiest. 

She would try to do that for now.

Yujia took a walk to her store, Three Inks Shop. It had been a long time since she last paid a visit, but when she stepped into the store, with its traditional but cozy wooden walls and the scent of art supplies in the air, it felt as familiar as home. 

Gao Yi, the employee who the co-owner of the store, Third Young Master Bo Zhizhong hired, greeted Yujia with a look of surprise. "Boss! Long time no see," he called out. 

Yujia greeted him politely. "It's really been a while, Gao Yi. How has the store been?"

Reaching behind the counter, Gao Yi pulled out the records. He laid them open on the table and showed her, reporting the sales and profits made during her absence. Looking through them, Yujia nodded thoughtfully with his explanations. Things were going well.

The trend for pencils did begin to die down a little. Especially after the Emperor's orders to mass produce and distribute the pencils around, pencils were slowly beginning to be seen as a common object. At this rate, the business wouldn't be able to rake in the tremendous amount of profit for much longer, especially when Yujia had seen a few other vendors and smaller brands beginning to make their own cheaper pencils as well. 

When naming Three Inks Shop, she had intended for three different kinds of "ink": traditional ink, pencils, and lastly, oil paint.

After receiving the gift from her master of oil paint created by his late wife, Yujia begged him to pass her the formula, yet she had been brutally denied. His reasoning for not telling her was simple: he wanted her to figure out how to make it herself. 

Thus, Yujia definitely needed a while to experiment with different materials to see how to create oil paint that would be good enough to sell. In a time like this, where her life had finally cleared up, it seemed like the best thing to do. She would work hard to figure out how to create oil paint, and then introduce it as the new art trend for the empire. Sales for her store would be boosted yet again that way. 

The thought of earning more money brought a small smile to Yujia, her mood finally improving. It wasn't even that she needed extra taels. Lingxin Pavilion provided her with all the resources she would ever need. Yujia just liked the idea of earning lots of money.

She was really too materialistic.

As Yujia laughed on the inside at her own greed, the beaded drape that divided the storage room of the shop to the main area was lifted. The rustling sound caught Yujia's attention, and she glanced over to see none other than her co-owner and good friend, Bo Zhizhong.

She smiled brightly and turned around, bowing. "Hello, Zhizhong."

"You finally paid a visit to your store?" Zhizhong replied, his usual scowl plastered across his face. "I visit it at least a few times a week, but you didn't even visit for weeks."

Yujia crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. If only he knew about what she had to go through, infiltrating the Yang Villa and all. "In my defense," she protested, "I had things to do, and," she decided to joke, "this is why you earn eighty percent of the profits, no?" 

With a smile from her side along with the joke, the scowl on Zhizhong's face finally vanished, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. He waved his hand dismissively and shook his head, as if giving up, but knowing how stubborn of a person Zhizhong was, Yujia was pretty sure he was simply acting as if he gave up.

Taking a step forward, Yujia observed Zhizhong carefully. He looked different today, compared to the last time she saw him a while back. 

Was he always this skinny? Though he already had very defined features, his face looked narrower than usual. His complexion was a bit sallow. There were bags underneath his eyes.

Something was definitely off with him. 

"Have you been starving yourself?" Yuija demanded to know, worry striking her gaze.

Zhizhong stepped back, shaking his head. "No, do you think that this— I mean, I starve myself? I eat better than anyone. Feasts for dinner every day, with good meat and good wine."

Pressing her lips together, Yujia continued, "You look horrible."

"Gee, thanks." Zhizhong put on a sarcastic smile.

It was Yujia's turn to lean back. Her eyes widening, she went on, "What happened to you? The old Bo Zhizhong I knew would go, 'No way! I have the most handsome face in the capital. How could I be horrible?' But now…"

He laughed dryly. "I've just been busy. There's been lots of work, dealing with the… family business. I may have stayed up a bit… late, I suppose, on a few days, here and there."

"What's your definition of 'late?'" Yujia asked. The dark bags under his eyes made him look like he hadn't slept in ten days.

Zhizhong reached to scratch the back of his neck. "Alright, alright, I pulled a few all-nighters."

Yujia had sudden flashbacks to college and all-nighters she pulled, working on art projects or other studies. Zhizhong was eighteen— around the age of college. She supposed that even ancient times,

 people could not escape the curse of no-sleep. 

"You're getting rest now though, right?" she continued to question.

He nodded with a groan. "Yes, yes, yes." An exasperated scowl resurfaced. "I escaped… the villa to not hear my mother chide about these things, but here you are."

Yujia scoffed and raised her eyebrows. "Only because I care."

"Well, thank you for your concern." He clapped his hands once. "But now, life has pretty much cleared up for me. I will be getting rest, so no worries. Plus, I've even had time to do some studying recently."

"Studying? For what?" 

"Why, I'm glad you asked!" Zhizhong exclaimed, as if he was just waiting for her to give that question. His features lit up in his usual grin again. "A little more than a month from now, there will be an entrance exam for Lingxin Pavilion. And as great as this young master— I— am, I still have to take the test for some reason. So, I've been studying for that when I've had the time."

"You're going to try to become a student?" Yujia's eyes lit up. 

"Not try—" he corrected, "I will. You see, I am just too wonderful to fail."

"Okay," Yujia snorted.

She had flashbacks to the exams she took to get into Lingxin. The knowledge part was the most difficult for her, yet that was because she had no idea about the art principles. Zixu, who took the exam with her, said it was easy, but then again, it was Zixu. She figured that it would be leaning towards the easier side, regardless. 

The true question was if Bo Zhizhong knew how to paint. She had seen him play around with pencils and ink, but he never did any serious painting. 

Thus, she decided to ask about it. "Do you even know how to paint?"

"Of course I do!" he declared indignantly, glaring at her.

"Show me."

"Then come along with me to the back. I've been painting there." He waved his hand. While she followed him, he continued to boast, "You'll see— I think I'm good enough to become a direct disciple. You'll be calling me Senior Brother soon!"

"Junior Brother," Yujia corrected under her breath. After all, she was nineteen in this body, and he was only eighteen.

"Whatever," Zhizhong retorted, seemingly having heard what she said.

They arrived at the back of the storage. Amidst all the cramped shelves, a small space had been cleared out with a low table. Yujia wondered why he worked in such a cramped space, but perhaps Zhizhong had his reasons. 

Zhizhong sat down, turning the scroll he had been painting on to face her. "Take a good look at my masterpiece."

Yujia sat down across, staring at the monochrome painting laying on the table. She looked at it for a very long time, then looked up, at an expectant and proud Zhizhong.

He looked like he wanted praise. He looked like he wanted her to immediately burst out into amazement at his "masterpiece." He looked like he was confident that there was no way she could offer any sort of negative critique on his incredible work.

Wearing a very blank expression, Yujia glanced back down at the painting, then looked back up at him.

"Sorry to break it to you," she blurted out, "but this painting is pretty bad."

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