Chapter 740

The young girl's features were as exquisite as a doll meticulously carved by the most demanding craftsman.

She had an indifferent expression and a cold, distant temperament; even dressed in everyday casual clothes, she could not hide that unquestionable nobility and sense of distance that permeated from her very bones.

And the young man walking side-by-side with her, trailing only slightly behind...

The moment Kusamura Hokusai's gaze touched the young man, it was as if he had been struck by an invisible bolt of lightning, his breath stalling because of it.

How should one describe this impact?

Words like "handsome" or "cool" seemed poor and pale at this moment.

It was a kind of near-perfect visual harmony.

The afternoon sunlight happened to diffuse from behind him, plating his tall, straight figure with a hazy and sacred golden edge, a few strands of hair appearing almost transparent in the light.

The young man seemed not to care much about the surrounding environment, merely turning his head slightly, his gaze calmly cast toward a bamboo thicket rustling in the breeze in a corner of the courtyard, his side profile lines as perfect as a classical sculpture in the light and shadow.

Then, perhaps noticing the gaze, he turned his head back naturally, his eyes, clear as autumn water and deep as the night sky, looking calmly at Kusamura Hokusai waiting at the door.

It was just such a plain and unremarkable glance.

Yet Kusamura Hokusai felt that a glance lasted ten thousand years...

In this instant, Kusamura Hokusai's soul as an artist was fiercely seized, and a violent, trembling creative desire surged from the deepest part of his heart.

He could almost not hold back, wanting to rush back into the studio, grab a brush and canvas, and immediately paint this beautiful young man who appeared so unreal in the afternoon light, as if he had fluttered down from a lost myth or a peerless masterpiece.

The man in black guided the two to the door and then, like a shadow, left swiftly and respectfully without saying a word.

Konoe Tong raised her eyes, looked at Kusamura Hokusai, who was somewhat distracted, and asked in her characteristic, flat, and waveless tone:

"Are you Kusamura Hokusai?"

Kusamura Hokusai snapped back to reality, suppressing the artistic impulse churning in his heart, not daring to be the least bit negligent, and bowed respectfully in response:

"That is indeed me. Welcome, both of you."

Konoe Tong stated expressionlessly, as if reading out a schedule that had long been determined.

"Your goal is to raise his drawing skills to a level that is 'passable to the eye' within this month."

"Do you understand?"

Kusamura Hokusai hurriedly straightened his body, nodded heavily, his tone firm and decisive.

"I will definitely do my best! Please rest assured!"

Natsume Chikage, hearing this, revealed a slightly confused expression.

"Improve drawing skills?"

"I think... there doesn't seem to be any need for that. After two days of self-study, I am already drawing quite well in terms of sketching."

Once these words were spoken.

Even with Konoe Tong's expressionless face, her left eyelid twitched uncontrollably and imperceptibly at this moment.

"Two days of self-study? Drawing 'quite well'?"

"Do you want to... listen to what you are saying first?"

Kusamura Hokusai, standing to the side, was completely unable to hold it together upon hearing these "startling words."

He let out a hearty but helpless and teasing laugh, shook his head, his beard trembling along with it.

"Hahaha! It seems this young 'boy' has that 'cute arrogance' unique to us art people!"

He stroked his beard, his eyes carrying the tolerance of a senior looking at a newborn calf and a hint of amusement.

"Not bad, with this spirit, you might really be able to go far on the artistic path."

As he spoke, he restrained some of his laughter and instead asked in a more formal tone:

"Excuse me, how should I address the two of you? In the upcoming teaching time, there always needs to be a suitable form of address."

Konoe Tong's answer was concise and direct, blocking any possibility of social pleasantries.

"You do not need to address me."

Her fair fingers pointed at Natsume Chikage.

"As for him, calling him 'A-kun' will suffice."

Regarding the title A-kun, Natsume Chikage didn't want to complain anymore; whatever she wanted was fine.

Kusamura Hokusai nodded along.

"Okay, understood."

He turned to Natsume Chikage, a professional, inquisitive smile hanging on his face again.

"Then, A-kun, since you are confident that your drawing art is 'not bad,' why not come in with me first, and we will test your drawing foundation on the spot, how about that?"

He made a "please enter" gesture, his posture still respectful, but his words carried an imperceptible challenge.

"If your level is indeed as good as you say, then naturally there is no need to waste each other's time learning. As for the relevant prepaid fees, I will also return them in full."

He added, appearing reasonable.

Natsume Chikage had no objection to this and nodded frankly.

"Mm, okay."

Konoe Tong stood quietly to the side, watching all of this silently.

She knew for a fact that Natsume Chikage had only been in "serious" contact with drawing for two days, counting everything.

As for those "art assignments" or casual doodles left over from his middle school or even elementary school days, she had already obtained video materials through certain channels.

The level of those works... was truly unbearable to look at.

To put it more bluntly, most of them were far worse than the rectangular block he drew yesterday.

However, geometric sketches like rectangular blocks were, after all, just the most basic and formulaic practice topics in art.

Even she could easily reach Natsume Chikage's level from yesterday; there was nothing strange about it.

However, that he could self-study to that level in just two days did indeed prove that he possessed good drawing talent.

It stood to reason that, like his genius younger sister, he belonged to the type with quite a bit of aptitude in visual arts.

But being only good at depicting those geometric shapes that could be completed step-by-step was meaningless.

Drawing was a profound art that required years of accumulation and repeated tempering of eye and hand feel.

In two days, it was absolutely impossible to accumulate any truly valuable substantive content.

Therefore, in her view, Natsume Chikage's drawing level was still far from the "qualified" standard required by the Yutang young lady.

At this moment.

The three walked into this spacious and professional studio one after another.

The studio had plenty of light.

On the solid wood shelves against the wall, many classic plaster statues of the human body were displayed solemnly and neatly—the head of the thinking David, the armless Venus, and a muscular anatomical torso with clear structure.

On the long workbench on the other side, various still-life objects were placed seemingly casually but actually meticulously: ceramic jars with warm glazes, glassware refracting rainbow light, bouquets intertwined with blooming and withered flowers, and lining cloths with rough or delicate textures.

Even in the corner, there was a small ecological area with lush greenery, and—

A tabby cat with mottled fur.

It was currently curled up extremely lazily under the window, on an oak floor warmed by the afternoon sun, immersed in a deep dream, emitting a faint and rhythmic purring sound.

Kusamura Hokusai signaled for the two to sit down in the center of the studio.

"A-kun, and this lord, please sit here for a moment. I will prepare drawing tools for A-kun right away."

His attitude remained respectful.

Natsume Chikage nodded slightly and sat down on a dark wooden round stool that looked frequently used.

Konoe Tong chose to sit next to him, her hands naturally folded and placed on her lap.

Kusamura Hokusai nimbly pushed over a solid wood easel, placing it steadily in front of Natsume Chikage.

Then, he moved a heavy old elm square table with some effort, placed it directly in front of the easel, and adjusted the angle.

He took a piece of off-white linen lining cloth with natural weave and meticulously created folds from a material shelf nearby, spreading it on the tabletop in a posture that seemed casual but was actually full of compositional beauty.

Then, he fetched a simple, plain white ceramic narrow-necked vase, inserted a few half-blooming white roses and a few wisps of eucalyptus leaves, and placed it in the natural fold depression of the lining cloth, forming a stable triangular composition.

Finally, he lightened his steps, walked to the window, and extremely gently picked up the tabby cat that was sleeping soundly.

The cat only let out a vague "meow" of dissatisfaction when moved, rubbed against his arm, found a more comfortable position, and sank back into its dream.

Kusamura Hokusai also gently placed this warm "living still life" on the table covered with the lining cloth, letting it snuggle next to the vase.

After the arrangement was complete, he stepped back two paces, narrowed his eyes, and examined this "test question" he had meticulously set with a painter's gaze, a hint of a teacher's, slightly cunning smile appearing at the corner of his mouth imperceptibly.

He turned to Natsume Chikage, his tone gentle but carrying an undeniable meaning.

"A-kun, now, please depict this table, all the still-life objects on the table, and this cat completely. Is that okay?"

He maintained his smile, as if he were just making the most basic of requests.

Kusamura Hokusai had his own calculations in mind. ===== CHAPTER 741 =====