Unbelievably beautiful!
If not for the paint on the canvas still being slightly wet, Jiang Ye would have suspected it was a print from a famous artist.
Jiang Senlin was still holding his brush, making the final touches with movements as delicate as a dragonfly touching water, so focused that he didn't notice his parents staring in amazement from behind him, appearing like seasoned master painters.
Jiang Ye examined his son's masterpiece closely. Honestly, he had almost no artistic talent and could barely understand it.
He could tell it seemed to be a city, but the city's structure appeared folded, and the lines were quite chaotic.
What was even more astonishing was the color, a blend of gradient pink and grassy green. It seemed haphazard, yet possessed immense aesthetic appeal.
Cen Yemeng gently tugged Jiang Ye's sleeve. The couple left the studio, closing the door softly behind them.
"I think our son has some artistic talent," Cen Yemeng whispered into his ear. "Most kids just draw turtles."
"I don't understand his painting, but I'm deeply impressed. Even if I lived another two hundred years, I wouldn't have this talent," Jiang Ye said. "From my understanding of the art market, the more inexplicable the painting, the more astronomically high the price it will fetch."
"Should we have an expert take a look?" Cen Yemeng asked.
"Definitely. I'll arrange it in a few days," Jiang Ye replied, his expression moved. "Art is more than half about talent. Who knows, our son might become an artist."
The door suddenly opened.
Jiang Senlin stumbled out, still smudged with colorful oil paint.
"Painting, Mom look, Dad look," Jiang Senlin said, reaching out to his parents.
Cen Yemeng immediately picked him up with affection and entered the studio, squatting before the canvas.
"It's so beautiful!" Cen Yemeng praised.
"It's too beautiful, better than what I can paint," Jiang Ye chimed in, also squatting beside them.
Jiang Senlin giggled. Children are simple; they might fold money into paper airplanes, but they are delighted by their parents' praise.
"Son, what is this you've painted?" Cen Yemeng asked carefully. "Mommy doesn't quite understand."
"Cat City," Jiang Senlin said indistinctly. "Cat City, Cat City."
"Cat City?" Cen Yemeng looked at the large painting carefully twice. "I see houses in the city, but where are the cats? I don't see any cats."
"The cats are in the houses, you can't see them," Jiang Senlin said, a little nervously.
"Oh, I see!" Cen Yemeng exclaimed, enlightened. "Shall we have Daddy frame your painting and hang it on the wall? That way, guests will see your painting and praise how well you've drawn it."
"Okay!" Jiang Senlin beamed.
Jiang Ye carefully lifted the canvas. The paint on the edges stuck to the floor, making soft crackling sounds.
Jiang Senlin wriggled out of his mother's arms and pulled a blank white canvas from a cardboard box, spreading it flat on the floor.
"Painting another one?" Cen Yemeng reached out and stroked his son's head. "Go down for dinner if you're hungry. There's no rush with painting."
Jiang Senlin nodded and was already rummaging through the paint boxes. His tiny face, usually old and wizened, now held a look of fierce determination, like an assassin selecting a suitable weapon in an arsenal.
Cen Yemeng quietly got up and retreated outside with Jiang Ye, gently closing the door.
An hour later, Jiang Ye was pulled back into the studio by his wife.
If the previous painting could still be considered somewhat of a doodle, this one truly proved Jiang Senlin's artistic talent.
Because he had painted a person.
Although slightly distorted, with some messy colors, Jiang Ye still recognized it. After all, the facial features and body shape captured a certain spirit.
"Is this Aunt Isabel you've painted?" Jiang Ye asked in surprise.
Jiang Senlin nodded.
"What do these colored embellishments mean?" Cen Yemeng also asked curiously.
"Whale Valley," Jiang Senlin whispered. "Whale Valley."
The couple exchanged glances.
Indeed, with Jiang Senlin's explanation, it did have a certain feel to it.
"Hungry," Jiang Senlin hugged his mother.
"If you're hungry, let's go eat. Mommy will take you to eat," Cen Yemeng picked him up and left the studio for the dining room.
Jiang Ye took out his phone and took a picture of the large painting.
He searched his contacts for "Isabel" and tapped share.
Isabel had gone quite far this time. Jiang Ye's phone camera had two hundred megapixels, and the photos were too large to send without compression, so the signal transfer took a long time. It took a full five minutes before it was sent.
Estimating that a reply would take a while, Jiang Ye went to eat in the dining room.
After a few bites, his phone vibrated.
Isabel: "!!!"
Jiang Ye was speechless. After such a long time to send a message, instead of saying something useful, she sent an exclamation mark.
The phone lay on the dining table. Jiang Ye ate slowly, engaging in a conversation with Isabel with long intervals between messages, each requiring a long wait, feeling like sending a telegram in ancient times.
Isabel: "I feel... this painting looks like me."
Jiang Ye: "It's you."
Isabel: "I didn't know you had artistic talent! I really like this painting, can you give it to me!"
Jiang Ye: "I didn't paint this. Guess who did, you'd never guess."
Isabel: "Xu Yan, Cen Yemeng, Feng Zhi, Shuang Che, Zhen Shao, Wan Su, Yue Ming, Tian Rao, Ju Lan, Lan Tang, Han Liu..."
Isabel sent a list of at least a hundred names.
Jiang Ye read through them one by one, a smile appearing on his face.
"Old Yi, your shotgun approach is useless, you still haven't guessed. Jiang Senlin painted this. The embellishments mean Whale Valley. I don't understand the specifics, but the colors suggest something like whales and something like valleys and forests."
Isabel sent about sixty to seventy exclamation marks, followed by twenty to thirty question marks.
Isabel: "Jiang Senlin is a genius! I love this child to death! Ask him if he can give me the painting?"
Jiang Senlin had finished eating and was taken to the bedroom by his mother to sleep. Jiang Ye went upstairs to the bedroom. Jiang Senlin wasn't asleep yet; he was lying on his small bed playing with a small plastic spaceship.
"I showed your painting to Aunt Isabel. She really likes it and wants that painting. She asked if you could give it to her," Jiang Ye said, leaning over the small bed.
"Daddy's paintbrush, Daddy's paint," Jiang Senlin repeated twice.
It took Jiang Ye a while to realize what he meant. The son probably felt that since the paintbrush and paints were bought by his father, the painting produced with them also belonged to his father.
"No, no, no. Once it's painted, the painting is yours, not mine," Jiang Ye said seriously. "You have to decide for yourself whether to give it to Aunt Isabel."
Jiang Senlin nodded. "To Auntie."
Jiang Ye said "Okay" and left with his phone.
"Senlin agreed to give you the painting," Jiang Ye messaged. "I'll frame it and send it to your office later."
"No need, no need. Keep it at your place, I'll pick it up when I'm back from vacation," Isabel replied. "Senlin is truly a genius, you must cultivate him well. I'll also look around for suitable art schools while I'm out."