I Became an All-round Artist

"…"

Lin Yuan's response shattered some long-held beliefs for Mr. Huang Benyu, but when he remembered that the school also had a more extraordinary talent like Gu Xi, he felt somewhat at ease again.

It’s a good thing.

It meant that their school was brimming with talented students.

In fact, without ears as finely tuned as Mr. Huang’s, it was impossible to truly appreciate how sophisticated Lin Yuan's technique was. The students in the class could only come to a general conclusion:

Lin Yuan was really good at playing the piano.

However, after Lin Yuan’s impressive performance, Mr. Huang no longer said things like, “I’m not targeting anyone, but everyone here still has a lot to learn.” His broad, indiscriminate remarks disappeared.

During the next piano class, Mr. Huang began adding a routine prefix to his comments:

"Except for Lin Yuan, everyone else should pay attention to this."

"Except for Lin Yuan, I doubt anyone else understands why this part needs to be played this way."

"Except for Lin Yuan, everyone should practice this piece after class, especially the final section."

"Except for Lin Yuan..."

By the end of the class, the phrase "except for Lin Yuan" had practically become Mr. Huang’s catchphrase.

In his heart, he probably hoped that Lin Yuan, like Gu Xi, would just stop coming to piano class.

He was more than willing to give the credits without Lin Yuan attending!

Despite showing off his piano skills, Lin Yuan’s peaceful campus life remained unchanged. If there was any noticeable shift, it was that his classmates were starting to like him more.

Well, it makes sense.

Physically weak, mild-mannered, good-looking, diligent in his studies, and exceptionally skilled at piano—such a talented and kind classmate was hard for anyone to dislike.

Actually, when Lin Yuan first transferred to the composition department, many students thought he was aloof. But after getting to know him, no one thought that anymore—being quiet and being cold are two different things. Lin Yuan just didn’t talk much.

In the days that followed, Lin Yuan continued to keep to himself and focus on his studies. He was fully caught up in his coursework and was no longer affected by the sudden switch to the composition major in his second year.

As these peaceful days passed, March quietly arrived.

In this early spring, when the chill still lingered in the air, people were reluctant to leave the warmth of their blankets.

The festive spirit of the Lunar New Year was fading away.

The latest issue of Net King was still selling well.

On March 1st, another release drew attention: Chu Kuang's new short story, The Gift of the Magi, published in Qudu magazine.

That day, Lin Yuan also received several free copies from Silver Blue Publishing.

As an author, Lin Yuan knew that the sample copies are an obligation that the publishing house must provide after a writer’s work is published.

When he received his sample issue of Qudu, he noticed that The Gift of the Magi was placed in the most prominent spot on the cover, with the words “Chu Kuang’s New Work” catching the eye immediately.

This placement reflected the editors’ high expectations for the story.

However, the promotional effect of "Chu Kuang’s New Work" was somewhat limited. The audience for Qudu magazine didn't overlap much with fans of youth fantasy novels—the genre that Chu Kuang was famous for.

After all, Chu Kuang had gained fame for writing youth fantasy.

For those who weren’t into that genre, some Qudu readers might not even know who Chu Kuang was. Still, seeing the bold cover might stir some curiosity about the story.

…

Han Ji Mei was the literary content manager of Tribe Literature, responsible for turning Tribe’s literary section into a go-to platform for casual, bite-sized reading.

As a woman who loved reading, she truly enjoyed her job and had a habit of subscribing to several magazines each month.

Qinzhou's bestselling magazines were known for their quality, filled with many excellent short stories.

It wasn’t that Han Ji Mei didn’t enjoy long-form novels, but as a busy professional, long novels demanded more time than she could afford. Short stories, with their concise length, fit her schedule perfectly.

Today was the beginning of March.

It was the time when new publications hit the shelves, and Han Ji Mei had bought six different magazines this month alone. Yet, the one that caught her eye first was the latest issue of Qudu.

It wasn’t that she was particularly fond of Qudu.

It was the fact that the magazine's cover was promoting a new work by Chu Kuang.

Just last month, Chu Kuang had published a highly praised short story on Tribe Literature.

That story, The Artificial Beauty, was incredibly clever and a rare masterpiece.

Han Ji Mei had been hoping that Chu Kuang would continue writing more short stories for Tribe’s platform, but it seemed he had shifted gears and was now serializing in Qudu.

"Let’s see what you’ve written this time."

Although she felt it was a shame Chu Kuang didn’t continue with Tribe, she was still curious to see what his new story was about.

Flipping past the first few short stories, Han Ji Mei found The Gift of the Magi.

Many people might not understand the meaning behind “The Gift of the Magi,” perhaps assuming that the story’s protagonist would be named Magi. But as a well-read individual, Han Ji Mei knew that the title had a deeper origin—it was connected to the Christmas tradition in Weizhou.

Qinzhou also celebrated Christmas, but it wasn’t a major holiday, nor did it come with a public holiday. For most, it was more of a casual celebration.

Weizhou, on the other hand, had a deep-rooted tradition of celebrating Christmas, with many people being devout Christians. According to legend, when Jesus was born, three wise men brought him gifts, which became the basis for the custom of exchanging presents during Christmas.

This was likely the inspiration for the title.

As Han Ji Mei started reading, she came across the opening line: “Tomorrow is Christmas, and Mrs. A has only three dollars and eighty cents to buy her husband a gift. She had scrimped and saved for months, but all she had was this little amount.”

Mrs. A? Chu Kuang really wasn’t putting much effort into the names this time, Han Ji Mei thought with amusement.

Still, she understood the opening.

It was about a woman living in poverty, counting her meager savings, worrying about what to give her husband for Christmas.

The story seemed set in the past, an era when money had more value.

But even then, three dollars and eighty cents wasn’t much.

“She suddenly turned from the window, stood before the mirror, and looked at herself. Her eyes were bright and sparkling, but within twenty seconds, her face turned pale. She quickly untied her hair and let it fall down.”

What was she planning?

Han Ji Mei wondered about Mrs. A’s intention.

With her experience in reading, she began imagining all sorts of dramatic possibilities, even guessing that Mrs. A might resort to selling her body to get money—only to have her first customer turn out to be her own husband.

It wasn’t that Han Ji Mei had a pessimistic view of the world.

But in tough times, stories of people making extreme sacrifices weren’t uncommon. Perhaps Chu Kuang was about to reveal the harsh realities of that era. Yet, if it was all just for a Christmas gift, wouldn’t that be too far-fetched?

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