I Woke Up And My Girlfriend Was Gone - Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The wind swept through the window into the empty classroom, carrying the woman’s cool, soft voice directly to Zuo Yin.

The broad expanse of warm sunlight hitting the windowpane made Zuo Yin daze for a moment. For a split second, she couldn’t distinguish between a dream and reality.

“What did you say?” Zuo Yin asked back, her heart pounding so hard she dared not believe her ears.

“My studio happens to be short an assistant painter. You can work part-time,” Shen Qingzi told her calmly.

This building had some design flaws; Shen Qingzi had heard everything Sun Yuqing and Zuo Yin had said in the hallway. She heard it clearly, and she felt a deep sense of pity for the girl on the other side of the wall.

Shen Qingzi remembered the dark, damp environment of Zuo Yin’s home, the empty beer cans Zuo Lan had carelessly tossed on the floor, and the cheap, low-grade oil paints. It was beyond “harsh conditions.” A cynical mother, a broken home, and grinding poverty—any one of these could suffocate a person, yet Zuo Yin bore far more than just those three.

The bright classroom lights reflected off Shen Qingzi’s phone on the podium. Framed within that square screen was the very painting by Zuo Yin that she couldn’t bear to part with.

After weighing it over and over, Shen Qingzi had only one answer in her heart. She wanted to keep Zuo Yin.

“I… might not be a qualified assistant,” Zuo Yin said, her eyes downcast, speaking words that contradicted her heart.

To study alongside her favorite artist and receive her guidance had been Zuo Yin’s dream—one of the few things she truly looked forward to. But now that the day had arrived, Zuo Yin felt a genuine fear.

The distance between her and Shen Qingzi was the distance between heaven and earth; they were simply too far apart. When a goddess reaches out her elegant hand to a commoner, the commoner fears that her rough calluses might hurt the goddess’s palm. Even for someone as defiant as Zuo Yin, the pain of her family background would always stab her at her happiest moments, reminding her of the unspoken burdens she carried.

Heavy clouds cut through the light at the horizon, casting a gloom over the room. The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees. Shen Qingzi watched Zuo Yin across the room, noting her fingers twisted together in the shadows and the deep creases where she gripped her canvas bag.

She knew the girl was unwilling to let go.

Shen Qingzi stepped down from the podium and walked toward Zuo Yin. In her calmest, most gentle voice, she said, “It’s okay. I will teach you everything.”

Though Zuo Yin was as gloomy and fierce as a lone wolf in the desert, Shen Qingzi felt through her art that they were of the same kind—travelers abandoned in the river of time, walking a difficult path alone. Since they were of the same kind, she had to lend a hand.

The wind blew the heavy clouds away. A gold line left by the sun rested on the distant mountains, and the mist in the woods painted the world in a vast, hazy teal. Zuo Yin looked up at Shen Qingzi. The light fell on her face with the same tenderness she had shown during those countless embraces that night. Her gaze held an indescribable softness that melted the vast frozen fields of Zuo Yin’s insecurity, turning them into a gurgling stream flowing toward the unknown.

This was the second time she had said “it’s okay.”

Zuo Yin’s clenched hands slowly relaxed. The stream carried small bits of ice, making a pleasant clinking sound. Suppressing this joy that was as sweet as cream, she replied with her usual calm: “Thank you. I won’t let your expectations down.”

Shen Qingzi smiled. She reached out, just as she had at the exhibition, and placed her hand on Zuo Yin’s head. While gently stroking her hair, she said, “Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. You are already very good. Just don’t let yourself down.”

Under Shen Qingzi’s sudden intimacy, Zuo Yin’s head bowed slightly. Her hair fell from behind her ear, hiding her flushing face. Whether from nerves or something else, the faint floral scent from Shen Qingzi drifted into her nose, making her heart beat even faster.

“I understand. I’m not a child,” Zuo Yin said, stiffly moving herself out from under Shen Qingzi’s hand.

Shen Qingzi’s smile widened, resembling a champagne-colored rose blooming by a lake, petals layered upon petals. She withdrew her hand without a hint of awkwardness. The half-butterfly on her finger flashed through Zuo Yin’s sight once more. “Good.”

Zuo Yin felt unsettled and changed the subject. “When do I start work?”

Shen Qingzi leaned slightly against a nearby easel. “Shouldn’t you ask when we start classes?”

“It’s the same thing,” Zuo Yin replied. As long as she was with Shen Qingzi, she would find a way to learn.

Shen Qingzi pursed her lips. “Go back and rest first. I’ll think about it and contact you once I’ve decided.”

“Okay, I’m leaving then.” With her bag slung over her shoulder, Zuo Yin stepped over the iron threshold under Shen Qingzi’s gaze.

Just as Shen Qingzi turned back to the podium to pack her things, Zuo Yin’s hands gripped the doorframe again. The girl’s pale face looked more spirited in the light, her dark eyes containing a spark of youthful vigor. She parted her lips, and from the deep red came a sentence of profound connection:

“Goodbye, Teacher.”

The girl’s unique blend of coldness and tenderness wrapped around Shen Qingzi. For a moment, she felt as though her soft, lonely soul had been touched by something, producing a clear, resonant echo.

“Goodbye, Zuo Yin,” Shen Qingzi added in her heart as she watched the empty doorway.

…

The midday sun shone brilliantly over the lush green campus. The metallic taste of blood in her throat from sprinting was gone; bathed in the sun, Zuo Yin felt immensely refreshed. The wind brushed past the roses in the flowerbeds along the street, carrying a hint of fragrance to her shoulders.

She walked out of the studio toward the bus stop on the right, but after one step, she turned toward the orange electric scooters on the left. Perhaps the prospect of a job gave her some confidence; she pulled out her phone and scanned the QR code. With a twist of the throttle, she sped into the busy street.

The scooter went up a slope and glided down another. Gusts of wind ducked into her collar, bringing the unique, cool refreshment of autumn. Although she didn’t know how much she would earn as an assistant or when she would start, Zuo Yin couldn’t help but feel happy. Her self-deprecating words hadn’t pushed Shen Qingzi away; instead, they had earned her comfort.

She is so good. Truly good.

Zuo Yin couldn’t help it; her lips curled upward. She twisted the throttle again. The scooter sped through a short, sunlit tunnel and bumped across the speed bumps at the Academy of Fine Arts gate. After parking and paying five yuan, she took the elevator to the 4th floor.

Dim yellow lights lit the dorm hallway. Passing under various pipes and listening to the chatter from different rooms, Zuo Yin arrived at her door.

“She’s honestly too much. I don’t know what she was thinking, showing up with two minutes left.” “Who knows? At least she didn’t miss it.” “I think she was just attention-seeking. Everyone was looking at her. Even Shen Qingzi talked to her.” “Alright, not even this much watermelon can shut your mouth. Xiao Yin was just late. Is it worth repeating the same thing over and over since we walked in?”

Zuo Yin easily identified the voices: the aggressive one was Zhang Zhang, the neutral one was Xu Xu, and the one defending her was Yuan Yuan.

Zuo Yin didn’t stay to listen. She pushed the door open and walked in as if nothing had happened. Zhang Zhang stopped her complaining, rolled her eyes, and turned back to her phone. Zuo Yin glanced at Zhang Zhang—who only dared to talk behind her back—and walked past her into the bathroom to wash her hands. She knew Zhang Zhang had disliked her unconventional ways and sharp tongue since the start of the semester; it wasn’t worth wasting words over.

“Xiao Yin, how was the assessment?” Yuan Yuan hurried over to ask as soon as she saw her.

“It was okay,” Zuo Yin replied.

“What does ‘okay’ mean? I heard Yuqing-xuejie kept you back. Were you hand-picked by a teacher?” Xu Xu was equally curious.

Zuo Yin wasn’t one to brag. She watched the bubbles wash off the back of her hands, remaining silent for a long time.

Zhang Zhang saw her chance and leaned back in her chair, asking with half-sarcasm and half-speculation, “Did Yuqing-xuejie keep you for a lecture? If you can’t get your act together, don’t come. Don’t waste everyone’s time. Don’t you have a job to go to anyway?”

Zuo Yin’s brow furrowed. She looked at her clean hands and gave an ambiguous “Mm.”

“Were you really criticized? It’s okay, we can—” Yuan Yuan thought Zuo Yin was confirming Zhang Zhang’s suspicion and tried to comfort her, but Zuo Yin cut her off.

While drying her hands, she said calmly to Yuan Yuan and Xu Xu: “My teacher is Shen Qingzi.”

She was answering Xu Xu.

“What?!” Both Xu Xu and Yuan Yuan’s eyes widened in the outer room.

“You were chosen by Shen Qingzi!” Yuan Yuan was ecstatic, her voice rising with every word until she was practically shouting.

Zuo Yin: “Yeah.”

Zhang Zhang, who hadn’t been wearing headphones, heard everything. She turned around in disbelief. “Didn’t Sun Yuqing call you out? How did it become Shen Qingzi?”

Zuo Yin had no desire to explain the story, especially to Zhang Zhang. No matter what she said, Zhang Zhang would find a way to argue. She only glanced at her and dropped one sentence: “Believe it or not.”

Zhang Zhang was furious again, but Yuan Yuan patted her down before she could speak. “Xiao Yin, let’s go out and celebrate!”

Zuo Yin wasn’t good at handling these scenes. In fact, she felt a bit uneasy for revealing it so early. Many things hadn’t been finalized with Shen Qingzi. If it fell through, Zhang Zhang would have more ammunition to mock her. Feeling a surge of regret for acting too quickly, Zuo Yin declined the celebration: “No, I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

With that, she climbed into her small world enclosed by bed curtains. Her battered phone vibrated in her pocket. An avatar of a round white bunny popped up.

It was a friend request.

[[Rabbit]: I am Shen Qingzi.]