Chapter 742

Kusamura Hokusai's voice carried undisguised astonishment and trembling as he looked at Natsume Chikage.

"This... no matter how you look at it, this cannot be the level of someone who has only studied for two days!"

"A-kun... you must have received very systematic, very long-term strict drawing training in the past, right? It's just... perhaps it was abandoned in the middle, and you only recently picked it back up, is that it?"

Natsume Chikage thought for a moment and answered truthfully:

"In school art classes in the past, I did 'come into contact' with it, but I didn't really take it seriously at that time."

"However, I did indeed start seriously self-studying sketching basics only yesterday."

Kusamura Hokusai suddenly cast a look of verification toward Konoe Tong.

"This lord from the Yutang family... this... is what he said true?"

Konoe Tong also couldn't help but fall into a longer silence.

For a long time.

She nodded imperceptibly, with a very small amplitude.

A cold voice sounded in the quiet studio, giving an answer that even she felt was absurd.

"... It is true."

Kusamura Hokusai stood completely frozen on the spot, like a statue that had instantly weathered.

His gaze moved back and forth between Natsume Chikage's calm, waveless, and extraordinarily handsome face and the sketch on the easel that looked like a miracle had descended.

In his ears, he could almost hear his worldview, which he had built for decades as an artist and an educator, making clear and harsh sounds of shattering and collapsing.

Two days?

Forty-eight hours to reach such a realm?

Does this world... really contain such... monster-level geniuses that are like loopholes in the rules?

The blood color on Kusamura Hokusai's face gradually faded, replaced by a paleness mixed with bitterness, self-mockery, and deep powerlessness.

He turned to Konoe Tong, his voice dry, carrying unprecedented humility and helplessness.

"Lord of the Yutang family... this A-kun, I... I cannot teach him."

He paused, using almost all his strength to say the following words.

"Regarding the remuneration already paid... I will return it to the account designated by your side later."

Konoe Tong did not respond to this immediately, just falling into a brief silence again.

She stood up, walked to the easel, and took down the sketch with gentle but decisive movements, rolling it up carefully.

Then, she looked at Natsume Chikage.

"Let's go."

Natsume Chikage nodded without saying much and stood up to follow behind her.

The two left one after the other.

Until the figures of the two completely disappeared.

Kusamura Hokusai, known as one of the masters of sketching in Japan, was silent for a long time, then sat down on the round stool Natsume Chikage had just sat on.

He spread out a brand-new piece of sketching paper, clamped it, and picked up the pencil he was accustomed to and had accompanied him for many years.

His gaze was locked tightly on the sleeping cat in front, that perfect, vital posture, wanting to prove that he could do it too!

The pencil fell.

The lines were still sharp, the structure was still accurate, and the light and dark relationships were still rich.

However...

No matter how he observed, how he mobilized everything he had learned in his life, how he poured in his emotions.

The cat on the drawing paper was always missing the "soul" and "vibration of life" that Natsume Chikage's painting possessed, which seemed to be able to jump off the paper and breathe with people.

It was more like an exquisite sculpture, a superb photograph, rather than a "living" moment.

As Kusamura Hokusai drew, his arm gradually stiffened, and in the end, the pencil made a "clatter" sound and rolled to the ground powerlessly.

He stared blankly at his unfinished sketch, which could already be called a masterpiece, and then looked up at the real cat sleeping soundly in the sun in front.

An unprecedented complex emotion, mixed with huge shock, deep powerlessness, and the challenge to his artistic faith, finally completely submerged him.

Kusamura Hokusai's expression was bitter.

"Since I was born, why was he born..." ===== CHAPTER 743 =====