Chapter 8
Author: Mr. Big Horn
Yan Zhen raised an eyebrow. “What do you think I am? Some pampered young master who can’t lift a finger? I went to a boarding school at twelve and completed a seven-day wilderness survival challenge without any supplies at sixteen.”
Su Jinxin’s eyes widened. “Wow! Really? In the wilderness?”
Yan Zhen flicked his forehead. “Why would I lie to you?” Seeing Su Jinxin’s eyes sparkle, he added, “Why? Do you want to try it?”
“A little,” Su Jinxin admitted honestly. “I want to do some sketching in a natural setting, but I’ve never had the chance.”
“I’ll take you next time,” Yan Zhen said immediately, then added, “Just the two of us.”
Su Jinxin nodded, his smile spreading to his eyes as his face flushed. He looked away, placed the dorm key in Yan Zhen’s open palm, and then listed out the items he needed, explaining where each one was located.
Yan Zhen, of course, had ulterior motives.
Since he had decided he wanted to keep Su Jinxin for the long term, he needed to understand his competitors. Waiting in the office for a report was one way, but a report is just a third-party’s perspective. If he had the chance, Yan Zhen preferred to enter Su Jinxin’s personal space and see for himself what Su Jinxin’s “boyfriend” was like from his perspective.
To Yan Zhen’s surprise, Su Jinxin’s dorm had no trace of a “boyfriend.”
No photos, no matching couple items, no rings or name pendants—nothing.
At first, Yan Zhen thought he might have the wrong room. But with only four people in the dorm, two of whom had graduated and left their areas clean, and the last spot covered with photo strips of a guy and his girlfriend, there was no room for error.
Standing there, Yan Zhen suddenly realized: a same-sex relationship wouldn’t be displayed openly like a heterosexual one in a dorm. In fact, keeping it private was the wiser choice. Su Jinxin was always meticulous. Once he decided to keep something hidden, he did it perfectly.
Thinking this, Yan Zhen pressed his brow and smiled self-deprecatingly. He thought, “They say love lowers your IQ, and I guess I’m no exception. One fleeting thought and here I am, rushing over without considering the strategy or feasibility.” If he brought this mindset into work, he’d be either impeached by the board or bankrupt in three months.
But Yan Zhen was good at accepting criticism and correcting mistakes.
Since he couldn’t find the information he wanted, he decided to observe Su Jinxin’s daily life instead.
This was a simple task.
Su Jinxin’s dorm, like him, was simple, clean, and organized.
His small space was clearly divided into “living” and “studying.”
Living-related items were minimal to the point of being pitiful by Yan Zhen’s standards, just enough for basic survival. Study-related items, however, were abundant and varied: professional books marked with colored notes, sketchbooks neatly arranged on shelves with two or three in use on the desk, and various other types of books and reading notes. One of the books open on the desk was “The History of Western Aesthetics” by Zhu Guangqian, marked as being read for the second time. The notes had many self-made symbols, not all understandable, but enough to show the owner’s diligence and dedication.
Su Jinxin was a good student.
Yan Zhen knew this from Su Jinxin’s “interview” materials but hadn’t taken it seriously. As a science major who excelled academically, Yan Zhen had a subtle, irrational sense of superiority over students of other disciplines. He believed those in humanities were less capable in science, and art students even more so. Though polite enough not to show it, he inwardly scoffed at the combination of “art major” and “good student.”
But Su Jinxin changed that prejudice.
Not all at once, but gradually—almost every time Yan Zhen noticed Su Jinxin’s dedication to his studies, he found Su Jinxin to be more diligent, hardworking, and talented than he had imagined.
Every day, Su Jinxin did basic exercises, even when staying at the villa. No matter how much fun he had, he never slacked off. One thematic exercise and two sketches daily, without fail.
Besides painting, he also enjoyed sculpture—especially clay sculpture and installation art, often making small experimental pieces. He attended good exhibitions whenever possible and read extensively in literature, science, philosophy, and various other subjects. Once, Yan Zhen found him reading “The Second Sex” and was surprised, asking why he was reading such a book.
Su Jinxin, puzzled, asked, “What’s wrong with it?”
Yan Zhen scratched his head. “There’s nothing wrong… I just thought only people like my sister would read it.”
Yan Zhen’s sister was the epitome of a modern independent woman, a staunch feminist.
Su Jinxin thought for a moment and said, “Art is a projection of the real world. To make my work richer, I need to understand the world from various perspectives. I’m not particularly sensitive or profound, and I haven’t seen much, so I can only read more to compensate.”
He genuinely seemed to believe he lacked talent.
Whenever the topic came up, he was always bashful and uneasy.
But Yan Zhen didn’t think so. He had seen Su Jinxin quickly sketch a cute portrait for the housekeeper’s daughter, accurately choose colors for morning flowers, and silently shed tears beside the Louvre and the Roman Colosseum. Yan Zhen believed Su Jinxin was more blessed by the Muses than he realized.
If not, Yan Zhen, a busy executive, wouldn’t be taking half a day off amid a stressful merger just to help him pack.
There wasn’t much to pack.
A couple of sketchbooks, a worn human anatomy book, a few unfinished drafts, and some other daily exercises.
Yan Zhen quickly gathered everything and was about to pack it when a few sketches on top caught his eye.
They were male nudes.
Broad shoulders, narrow waist, six-pack abs.
Even as sketches, the lines exuded a powerful, masculine beauty.
Yan Zhen raised an eyebrow.
On Su Jinxin’s desk, under the glass, and on the wall in front of it, were more male drawings. They showed torsos, arms, legs, or other parts, mostly black and white sketches with a few light-colored ones.
At first, Yan Zhen thought it was just normal art student work. But now, looking closely, he realized these bodies were all the same person.
Yan Zhen suddenly felt a pang of jealousy.
Standing there, fuming for a while, he thought of a way to comfort himself: “With a body like that, maybe it’s a professional model from school.”