Chapter 16 Autumn Colors

Chapter 16 Autumn Colors

Xie Fengshi and Kevin had scheduled their sketching session for Tuesday, and at seven in the morning, Kevin's message popped up right on time.

"I'm downstairs at your place. No rush. If you haven't had breakfast, we can grab something on the way."

Xie Fengshi bounced out of bed, nearly tripping over the blanket. He had gotten back from work last night and fallen asleep at two in the morning. His phone alarm had gone off three times, and it was only on the third that he finally woke up.

While washing up, Xie Fengshi frowned at his pale reflection in the mirror. The face was about seventy to eighty percent similar to his own, just that the original body's face was more delicate. But good looks couldn't fill his stomach, nor could they help him survive Professor Johnson's devilish curriculum.

Xie Fengshi splashed two handfuls of cold water on his face, ran his fingers through his hair, then threw on his coat and headed out.

A dark blue SUV was parked downstairs. Kevin was leaning against the door, looking down at his phone. Hearing footsteps, he looked up.

Kevin was half a head taller than Xie Fengshi, wearing black-rimmed glasses, with light brown hair tied into a small bun at the back of his head. Xie Fengshi had heard from Lu Shiyan that Kevin was a proper oil painting department standout, with works that had already been featured in two group exhibitions. He was the kind of talent that professors would proactively ask for contact information.

Kevin put away his phone. "Morning. Have you eaten yet?"

"Not yet."

Kevin pulled open the car door. "Perfect timing. There's a bagel shop on the way. Their smoked salmon bagel is pretty good. Hop in."

Xie Fengshi settled into the passenger seat. The car was even tidier than he had imagined—no extra decorations, just a massive painting case and a few canvas boards in the back.

Kevin started the engine, and jazz music flowed from the car's speakers. The saxophone's lazy notes unfurled, unexpectedly matching the autumn scenery outside.

As the car left the city, the buildings on both sides gradually thinned out, replaced by vast stretches of woods and fields. Xie Fengshi leaned back in his seat, sunlight pouring through the windshield, warm on his knees, making him squint.

Kevin glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "Didn't sleep well last night?"

"Yeah, I was doing quick sketches. Professor Johnson's class next week requires twenty submissions, and I've only done eight."

Kevin let out a chuckle. "That's just how Professor Johnson is. The first semester of his class is the toughest. Get through it, and it gets better. He's actually a decent person, just very strict."

"You took his class too?"

"It was a required course for freshmen. I failed it twice."

Xie Fengshi turned his head in shock to look at Kevin. If his memory was correct, this guy was supposed to be a genius in Lu Shiyan's words. He actually failed?!

Noticing Xie Fengshi's expression, Kevin said calmly, "His class isn't about how well you paint; it's about whether you've thought things through. You can paint badly, but you can't paint carelessly. When I was a freshman, I was all about showing off my skills, and he chewed me out."

Xie Fengshi nodded thoughtfully. This was actually quite different from what he had imagined art education to be like.

The bagel shop was at a fork in the country road, a white-painted wooden house with a few picnic tables out front. Sparrows hopped between the table legs. Kevin was a regular here; as soon as he pushed the door open, the staff called out, "Hey, Kevin. The usual?"

"Two smoked salmon bagels, one Americano, and one..." Kevin turned back to look at Xie Fengshi.

"Hot cocoa, please. Thank you."

The bagels were freshly baked, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, with a thick layer of smoked salmon, topped with capers and chopped red onions. The cream cheese was spread just right. Xie Fengshi took a bite and his eyes lit up.

Kevin asked, "How is it?"

Xie Fengshi said indistinctly, "Delicious. Way better than I expected."

They sat by the window, sunlight splitting the table into two halves—one half falling on Kevin's coffee cup, the other on Xie Fengshi's hot cocoa. Outside the window was a harvested wheat field, golden stubble swaying in the wind.

Kevin said, "What do you usually like to paint?"

Xie Fengshi had already prepared an answer on the way here: "Scenery, I guess. Not really into painting people."

The original body was indeed better at landscapes; from what he remembered, most of the practice sketches were still lifes and landscapes, with very few figure studies.

Kevin nodded. "Then you'll probably like the place today."

The car hit the road again. The road grew narrower, the trees on both sides denser, sunlight filtering through the gaps in the leaves and falling on them. Xie Fengshi stared at these scattered specks of light for a while. Actually, the original body's aesthetic sense had influenced him to some extent.

He found these light and shadows beautiful now—beautiful enough that he wanted to paint them.

Of course, wanting was one thing; being able to paint them was another.

Kevin parked the car in front of an iron gate. On the gatepost hung a hand-painted wooden sign. The gate wasn't locked; Kevin pushed it open, got back in, and drove through.

Xie Fengshi sat up straight in the passenger seat. On both sides of the road were large apple orchards, branches laden with bright red fruit. Some had ripened and fallen to the ground, their round shapes peeking out from the grass. Behind the orchard was a low hill, and on its slope was a forest that had started to change color, like a palette that someone had knocked over.

The car stopped in front of a barn at the edge of the orchard. The barn was red, its paint peeling, with a string of dried chilies hanging on the door. A few chickens wandered in the yard and didn't flinch at the car's arrival.

A woman with graying hair came out of the barn, wearing muddy rubber boots and holding a chicken-feeding iron basin. Seeing Kevin, she broke into a bright smile. "Kevin! Perfect timing. The apple pie just came out of the oven."

Kevin introduced her. "This is Marg, the lady of the farm. And this is Xie, my classmate."

Marg warmly hugged Kevin, then turned to look at Xie Fengshi. "Another skinny kid. Kevin, do you only bring skinny ones?"

Kevin said helplessly, "Marg, Xie is different from the ones I've brought before."

Marg grabbed Xie Fengshi's wrist and enthusiastically pulled him inside, seemingly not paying attention to what Kevin said. "Come, come, come. Have some pie first, then get to work. You kids never eat properly."

Xie Fengshi stumbled as he was dragged along, casting a pleading look back at Kevin, only to get a helpless shrug from him.

The inside of the barn had been converted into a spacious studio. The walls were covered with paintings in various styles, clearly not by the same person. In the corner stood a few easels, and in the middle was a huge wooden table covered with a tablecloth. At the far end was a small kitchen area, with an oven running and the air filled with the aroma of butter.

Marg turned to pour tea. "Black tea or coffee?"

"Black tea, please. Thank you."

"Milk and sugar?"

"Just a little milk, please."

Marg deftly brewed the tea, then took the apple pie out of the oven, cut a large slice, and placed it in front of Xie Fengshi. The crust was golden and crispy, the edges slightly browned, and the apple filling was still steaming.

"Eat up, dear."

Kevin had already cut himself a slice and was eating with gusto. Seeing this, Xie Fengshi didn't hold back either. He used the fork to cut off a corner and put it in his mouth.

The crust crumbled in his mouth, the apple filling was soft and sweet with a hint of tartness, and the best part was the thin layer of almond paste between the crust and the filling. Xie Fengshi couldn't help but cut another piece.

Marg watched with satisfaction. "This one's good. Knows how to appreciate."

Kevin rolled his eyes. "I come here every time and you make pie. I always say it's delicious. Why don't you ever compliment me?"

"Get out of here," Marg said unceremoniously, but when she turned to Xie Fengshi, her tone instantly became gentle. "Take your time, no rush. The weather is good today. You have all the time to paint."

Xie Fengshi finished his pie and tea, then followed Kevin out of the barn.

The sunlight outside was just right, at its best. Kevin set up his easel and pointed to the slope behind the orchard. "That side has a better view. You can see the whole forest. Take a walk for now. Don't rush to paint. Look around first and see what you want to paint."

Xie Fengshi nodded, slung his sketchboard over his shoulder, and walked slowly along the path through the orchard. His feet crunched on fallen leaves, and the air was sweet with the scent of fermenting apples. He stopped when he reached the edge of the orchard.

From here, the woods on the hillside spread out before him. In the front stood a row of tall oak trees, their leaves already a deep brown. Behind them were maples, and further back, birches. The wind blew down from the hillside.

Xie Fengshi stood there for a while, watching. He had seen autumn leaves turn yellow before—day by day, yellower and sparser, until only bare branches remained. Back then, he thought that when he got better, he would go to a place with many trees and really take in the autumn leaves.

But he never got better, and he never made it.

Now, standing here, the autumn colors of the entire mountain spread before his eyes, sunlight falling on him, and fallen leaves drifting at his feet.

…

On the way back, Xie Fengshi was completely drained.

He slumped in the passenger seat, his head tilted toward the window, forehead pressed against the cold glass, curling himself into a ball. The autumn scenery outside was just as beautiful as on the way there—even more vivid in the afternoon light—but now he was in no mood to enjoy it.

His sketchbook lay open on his knees. He flipped through the pages he had drawn earlier, then immediately snapped it shut. The movement was too quick, and the edge of the paper grazed his finger, nearly cutting him. Xie Fengshi stared at the faint white line on his hand, feeling even more defeated.

Even the paper was against him.

He closed his eyes, his mind filled with everything he had drawn today. At first, it had been fine—the muscle memory from the original body allowed him to get the proportions right without any issue. But when it came to details, everything fell apart. His hands had a mind of their own, but his brain was completely blank.

The original body had over a decade of training, like a computer with all the software installed. The mouse and keyboard were there, but he, the user, couldn't even type properly. He knew how to draw, but he couldn't actually do it.

It was incredibly frustrating—knowing the answer but being unable to write out the process.

Xie Fengshi stuffed the sketchbook back into his backpack. The zipper got caught as he pulled it, and after two tugs that didn't work, he just gave up.

Kevin couldn't help but speak up. "Drawings not going well?"

Xie Fengshi nodded. "Mm."

Kevin said, "That's normal. Everyone has that problem their first time there. The light at Marg's place is different from the city—too open. First timers always struggle to find a focal point."

Xie Fengshi didn't respond, because he didn't know how to draw at all.

That thought had surfaced the first time he messed up this afternoon. He pushed it down, but it kept coming back. Now, in the quiet car on the way home, the thought was finally unstoppable, crashing down on him like a weight.

The original body had been raised as the heir of the Xie family. Drawing was a hobby he started in elementary school with the best private tutors. Over a decade of skill was etched into the muscle memory of this body, but he wasn't the original body. The original could do it; he couldn't.

Xie Fengshi buried his face in the collar of his jacket, leaving only half his face and one eye staring blankly out the window.

Kevin thought for a moment, then said, "I glanced at the ones you drew. The details were a bit rough, but that's normal. You haven't really painted outside much, have you?"

Xie Fengshi played along. "Yeah, not much practice."

"That explains it. When there's too much visual information, your hand gets confused. I had the same problem when I first started."

Xie Fengshi knew Kevin was trying to comfort him, but he also knew exactly what his skill level was.

By the time they entered the city, it was getting dark. When they reached the apartment building, it was nearly pitch black. Xie Fengshi unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to Kevin. "Thanks for today. I appreciate you making the trip."

Kevin shrugged. "No need to be formal. Going again next week? Marg said there'll be apples to pick, and she wants you to take some."

Xie Fengshi remembered the way Marg had held his hand when they said goodbye, and the corner of his mouth finally curled up. "Yeah."

"Then it's settled. Same time next Tuesday."

"Alright. Thanks, Kevin."

"Sure. Get some rest."

The car door closed, and the taillights of the SUV flickered at the corner before disappearing into the night.

Xie Fengshi stood outside the apartment building, looking up at his dark window. He didn't know why he was being so dramatic. It wasn't like messing up a few drawings was the end of the world. But he just felt tired.

Ever since he crossed over, he had been running. Finding a job, paying off debts, making friends, dealing with troublemakers. He had done well—so well that he almost believed it himself. Believed that he could keep running, keep running until he could fully take over the original body's life.

"What are you standing there for?"

The sudden voice startled Xie Fengshi. He turned around to see Isaac holding two grocery bags a few steps away.

Xie Fengshi said, "Nothing. Just getting some air. What did you buy?"

Isaac lifted the bags. "Meat. And sauce."

Xie Fengshi stepped closer and reached out to help carry one, but Isaac was faster and pulled his hand away.

"What's wrong?" Xie Fengshi asked, puzzled.

"I'll carry it myself." Isaac stared at Xie Fengshi for a long moment. "Are you tired?"

Meeting Isaac's intense stare, Xie Fengshi said, "A little."

Isaac said, "Come on."

"Where?"

"Upstairs. I'll cook you dinner."

Xie Fengshi thought he had misheard. "What did you say?"

"I'll cook for you," Isaac repeated.

Xie Fengshi gave him a once-over. "You can cook?"

Isaac paused for two seconds. "I can make instant noodles."

"That's it?"

"And heat up canned soup."

"..."

"If heating up frozen pizza counts."

Xie Fengshi couldn't help but laugh at Isaac's serious expression. "Alright, alright. Shut up."

Isaac shut up, picked up the bags, and headed into the hallway. Halfway there, he noticed Xie Fengshi wasn't following, so he turned around to look at him.

Xie Fengshi quickly caught up and snatched a bag from Isaac. "Come on, I'll cook for you. If I wait for you to make instant noodles, I'll starve to death."

"I can make them," Isaac insisted.

"The kind you make—can you even call that instant noodles?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Then make me a bowl sometime. Let me have a taste."

"Okay."