Sketching was quick, but the touch-ups took a lot of time. Qin Guanglin spent the whole afternoon in the studio and only breathed a sigh of relief by evening when he put down his brush, admiring his finally completed work.
The person in the painting wore a floral apron, her hair tied into a bun at the back, with a small strand of hair hanging over her forehead. She held a spatula in one hand and a pot in the other, her side profile showing a hint of a smile, looking relaxed and joyful as she cooked.
Qin Guanglin had once imagined what his future partner would be like, perhaps with blonde waves or long legs and a curvy figure—fantasies young people often have. He also thought about finding someone like that.
Staring at the canvas now, Qin Guanglin suddenly realized what was best—it wasn't glamour and allure but a steady, flowing life.
External appearances were mere illusions. Even if she turned into a two-hundred-pound heavyweight, she would still be the best.
He couldn't let such a good person slip away; missing her meant it was impossible to meet another like her... Qin Guanglin suddenly felt the progress between them was a bit slow and had an impulse to keep her tightly by his side.
"Time for dinner," Qin's Mom knocked on the door.
"Coming."
Qin Guanglin put down his brush and walked out of the studio. Dinner was fried dough sticks that Qin's Mom bought, along with watermelon.
He took a bite of a dough stick, hesitated for a moment, then spoke, "Mom."
"Hmm?"
"I want to marry He Fang," Qin Guanglin looked at Qin's Mom.
Qin's Mom, holding a dough stick, doubted she heard right, "What?"
"I want to marry He Fang," Qin Guanglin repeated.
"..."
"..."
"Then you need to tell He Fang," Qin's Mom frowned, not understanding what he was thinking, "What's the use of telling me?"
"Well, don't you have to agree?" Qin Guanglin was baffled by Qin's Mom's response. Surely, such a matter should be mentioned to family, right?
"What if I don't agree?" Qin's Mom bit into the watermelon and leaned back in her chair, adopting a bystander's attitude.
"..." Qin Guanglin scratched his head, "I'll marry her regardless of whether you agree or not."
"Then why tell me at all," Qin's Mom rolled her eyes, "You want to marry her, but she might not agree."
"I don't care, you have to help me," Qin Guanglin took a big bite of the dough stick; he had already thrown caution to the wind, "She's your future daughter-in-law."
"Are you sure it's her?"
"I'm sure."
"No regrets?"
"No regrets."
"If you like her, then pursue her. I won't interfere," Qin's Mom sighed, "He Fang is a good girl. If you want to marry her, you have to treat her well."
"You noticed too?" Qin Guanglin grinned, biting into the dough stick, "I don't think there's anyone better."
"I noticed from the first sight," Qin's Mom said dismissively, "I've tasted more salt than you've eaten rice; don't you think my judgment is better?"
"Then give me some advice," Qin Guanglin felt he couldn't handle it alone, "How do I marry her?"
"She's still in school, so have some patience," Qin's Mom didn't know what got into him, suddenly becoming so anxious, "I warn you, don't do anything reckless, or I won't let you off."
"What reckless things could I do?" Qin Guanglin took a bite of watermelon, then thought for a moment, "Should I meet her family first?"
"That's obvious, not only meet them but also get their consent to marry their daughter."
Qin Guanglin was worried; it seemed difficult to marry He Fang anytime soon. What should he do?
"You better think it through," Qin's Mom cautioned, "Marriage isn't a game; it's about forming a new family, and when the time comes, even I'll be an outsider. It's a lifelong matter; don't regret it later."
"How could I? We'll all be one big family, including her parents," Qin Guanglin felt he had everything figured out, putting down the half-eaten dough stick to wash his hands, then brought out the freshly painted picture for Qin's Mom to see.
"Yesterday, watching her cook, I was especially fond of her. Look, this is what I want; missing her means I won't find another like her."
Qin's Mom smirked, "So you just want her to cook for you for the rest of your life?"
"No!"
Qin Guanglin didn't know how to describe that feeling; he thought for a while but couldn't find the words. He simply put the picture back in the bedroom, then came out to continue eating, "Anyway, I just like her; this is love, you wouldn't understand."
"Tsk, what do you know about love?" Qin's Mom found his demeanor amusing, "You just crave her cooking."
"I don't care. She cooks, and I'll wash the dishes; she eats eggs, and I'll peel them; she washes her feet, and I'll fetch water... I just like her!"
"You try peeling one first; it's easy to say. Your dad used to say he would wash dishes every day, and then what happened?" Qin's Mom remained unimpressed; the boy seemed bewitched.
Saying he'll marry her, as if marrying someone is so easy. They've been together for only a few days; what if they quarrel and break up one day? Youngsters are impulsive, acting on a whim.
"I've decided. In a few days, I'm going to start working, starting with making money."
"Found a job?"
"Yes, I passed the interview today. I'll start work in a few days."
"What job?"
"A studio that does comic illustrations; it seems pretty good," Qin Guanglin made a gesture, "After the probation period, it's a seven-thousand base salary plus performance pay per month."
Qin's Mom slightly frowned at the mention of the salary, "About the same as staying at home."
"I can still freelance in my spare time; this is called increasing income and reducing expenses," Qin Guanglin explained, "Right now, most of my time is spent idly. Going to work means earning an additional salary."
Dedicating himself to drawing for clients, even the most complex ones could be completed in a day or two. The fee for a piece mainly depended on purpose and volume, along with the artist's level. This industry was, truth be told, a mental labor.
If he could sign his name, he could take orders for a few hundred each. If not, the price was higher—earning from two or three jobs equaled studio wages. Currently, he only took two or three unnamed commissions per month.
"Alright, alright, just be careful not to overwork yourself," Qin's Mom couldn't really understand his art business and didn't want to deal with it.
"It's all small stuff."
After eating, Qin Guanglin cleaned up the watermelon rinds, threw them in the kitchen trash can, and returned to his room.
He chatted a bit with He Fang but didn't dare reveal his eagerness to marry her; he feared scaring her and was too timid, only daring to think about it himself, at most consulting Qin's Mom for advice.
Looking at the picture Chef He drew again, Qin Guanglin placed it under the glass on the desk. Also pressed underneath was the photo of them on the roller coaster from last time. Whether using the computer or reading at the desk, he could see it with just a glance.
Without being able to see her in person, looking at photos and drawings was the next best thing.