"Pengpeng, you're the one with the weakest basic skills in the class. During this time, you must practice the basics more," Lin Qiong said, coming to Xia Pengpeng's side and placing a hand on her shoulder.
Xia Pengpeng pulled her thoughts back and met Li Qiong's gaze.
"Mhm, I got it."
Li Qiong started the lecture, and Xia Pengpeng seemed to be listening attentively, but her mind had already wandered far away.
"Pengpeng, hold the pen like this, yes, the lines should be drawn this way, come, mom will teach you."
During those warm, sunlit afternoons, she was just over three years old.
She especially loved the drafts in her mother's studio.
To each draft, she added her masterpieces.
Her mother wasn't angry at all when she saw them; she even joined her in drawing.
The drafts she had 'ruined' ultimately became her mother's new inspiration.
Back then, she was both happy and proud.
