With one punch, I shatter Yellow Crane Tower; with two kicks, I overturn Parrot Island.

This old lady is done playing.

——Little Monster's Diary

“Hey.”

Hey my ass, do I not have a name?

Ding Xian ignored him and strode forward, but she couldn't outpace his long legs. In a few steps, he was in front of her, grabbing her schoolbag and pulling her back.

Ding Xian was caught off guard, stumbled a few steps, and almost fell into his arms. But Zhou Siyue reacted quickly, steadying her by her shoulders, and looked down at her. “What’s wrong with you again? You’re this unhappy just doing duty?”

Idiot.

“Speak,” Zhou Siyue said impatiently. “What unnecessary misunderstanding?”

Fool.

What other unnecessary misunderstanding could there be?

“I’m afraid that classmates will spread unpleasant rumors, saying we...” She paused, not continuing, and slowly lowered her head as she glanced at him.

But she didn't expect that these words would make Zhou Siyue silent for a long moment. He looked at her with a slightly cold expression, gave a self-deprecating smile, and said, “Alright, I understand.”

The young man left with his satchel, leaving a tall, swaggering figure behind him, clearly showing some anger. The dim yellow sunset gradually blurred the young man's figure. The wide road, with its sturdy old poplars, stood unyielding against wind and rain on both sides.

His steps were steady, neither hurried nor slow. He quickly passed a few poplars; though it was only a few steps, his resolute figure already reached the end of the road, and with a turn, he vanished without a trace.

Ding Xian suddenly squatted down as if deflated, and tears welled up uncontrollably, all the grievances surfacing from the bottom of her heart.

Liking someone, huh.

You can endure a hundred kinds of grievances for him; yet you cannot bear one kind of grievance from him – that he doesn’t like you.

She silently squatted on the ground, crying. Accustomed to suppressing her emotions, even in such sorrow, she couldn't wail loudly like Kong Shadi. Tears streamed down her face, mixed with snot.

She didn't think she had done anything wrong. Kong Shadi acted without scruples, and while she admired that, she couldn't fully approve of some of her ways, yet it didn't stop her from liking her.

As for Zhou Siyue, she liked him, so she cared most about his opinion, and she was most afraid of him pitying her, giving her charity.

However, the two people she liked most at Yansan High School had both fallen out with her today.

Ding Xian squatted on the ground and cried for a long time that day, until night fell, until she couldn't stand up. Her legs trembled like old rheumatic legs in the rain, and she limped home.

She wiped away tears as she walked.

Accompanied by the dim twilight, she felt like a Wudang master returning from a duel, with a dust-shrouded iron sword, stepping on clouds.

Except, she was the one who was almost beaten to death.

At the Hutong's entrance, Ding Xian turned to a small shop to buy a few pink letter papers and envelopes, quietly tucked them into her schoolbag, and then walked home.

The house was unusually quiet today.

Even Ding Juncong, who usually made a ruckus at this time, was unusually well-behaved, sitting quietly on the sofa. Ye Wanxian emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate of apples, glanced over, and seeing her return, smiled, “You’re back?”

Ding Xian instinctively tightened her bag strap, hummed softly, and lowered her head to change her shoes.

Ye Wanxian placed the apples on the dining table and reached for her schoolbag. This unusual gesture made Ding Xian instinctively flinch backward. Ye Wanxian chuckled, “What’s wrong? I’ll help you take your schoolbag inside.” Then she noticed something was off, “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

She had just cried, so her eyes were still a bit swollen, but not obviously so.

Ding Xian rubbed them, trying to brush it off, “The wind was strong just now, probably got some sand in them.”

Ye Wanxian nodded, “Mm, your uncle is coming later.”

Uncle?

“Which one?”

Ye Wanxian smiled, “Your youngest uncle.”

Right, if it were the others, would you have that expression?

In the early years, before family planning, people of their grandparents’ generation had as many children as they could. Ye Wanxian and Father Ding both had many siblings, but most lived ordinary, uneventful lives.

Only this youngest son of the Ye family was considered a stroke of luck, like green smoke rising from the ancestral grave.

Ye Changqing loved to draw when he was little. While other children were rolling around in the mud, he would prefer to go to the mountains alone with his sketchpad for inspiration, staying there for a whole day. While other children would ask their parents for pocket money to buy sweets, he would save his money to buy paintbrushes.

Besides drawing, Ye Changqing’s other grades were average, especially in math, where he could only score twenty points. He never attended any proper university in his life. After graduating from high school, he painted quick sketches for two yuan each on the streets of Beijing.

He thought his life would pass by like this, ordinary and unremarkable.

As it turned out, after drawing sketches in Beijing for half a year, a turning point appeared: he met the first benefactor of his life, Wang Mingyi.

Wang Mingyi was a visiting professor at various universities in Beijing at the time. He was participating in a joint exhibition of oil painting and sketching departments from various universities in Beijing. The students Wang Mingyi brought that year were far less talented than before; many learned to paint not because they liked it.

They had money, couldn't get into any proper university, so they just casually picked an art major, or were stubbornly set on becoming painters, forgetting the true meaning of painting itself.

Wang Mingyi saw Ye Changqing smoking at the bridgehead.

Ye Changqing's absorbed expression while drawing completely captivated him. He was just like Wang Mingyi in his youth, engrossed yet unaware, with sparkling eyes. So, Wang Mingyi put out his cigarette, walked over, and asked him to draw a portrait as well.

Ye Changqing didn't have much business, so when he occasionally got a commission like this, he was overjoyed. He drew with exceptional care. When he handed the painting over, Wang Mingyi only took one glance before deciding that he had to take this person under his wing.

When Wang Mingyi extended the invitation, Ye Changqing was pleasantly surprised and couldn't believe it. He went home and told his mother the news, only to be mocked by his sisters, who said, “Maybe he's a fraud. If he asks you for money, don't be a fool.”

When it came to painting, Ye Changqing was truly willing to be foolish. He didn't care about anything else and simply followed Wang Mingyi to start learning art. He began traveling all over the world, meeting many famous masters in the field, and only then realized how shallow his previous understanding truly was.

With Wang Mingyi opening the door, Ye Changqing's artistic achievements advanced by leaps and bounds. He was also the fastest-improving student Wang Mingyi had ever seen. In fact, Ye Changqing often mentioned to Wang Mingyi that he had a little niece whose talent in this area was also very high.

That was when he had just started with Wang Mingyi, and he wasn't sure if this path would work out, so he never dared to bring Ding Xian to meet him. Later, the opportunity never arose.

Although Ye Wanxian was a sycophant, she had always been very fond of her younger brother, Ye Changqing, since childhood. Even after he graduated from high school and was so poor he couldn't make ends meet, she often helped him out.

Ye Changqing was one to remember kindness and was grateful to everyone who had helped him.

...

No sooner had Ding Xian stepped in the door than Ye Changqing arrived.

Ye Changqing didn't come often, so they had become a bit estranged, but Ding Xian had a very good relationship with him when she was little. She would often follow him around for inspiration, and she learned sketching from him too.

“Uncle,” Ding Xian greeted politely.

Ye Changqing reached out and patted her head, “You’re in high school now?”

Ding Xian nodded.