I Became an All-round Artist

Very soon, Han Jimei realized how far off her assumptions had been. Of course, Chu Kuang wouldn’t write such cynical plot twists just for the sake of being shocking.

“In this poor household, there were two things of utmost value: one was Mr. A's gold watch, passed down for three generations, and the other was Mrs. A's hair. If there were a wealthy and beautiful woman living in the apartment across the courtyard, Mrs. A would surely hang her hair out the window to dry one day, making that woman's jewels and gifts pale in comparison. If a rich man piled all his wealth in his basement, Mr. A would surely take out his gold watch every time he passed by, just to make the man burn with envy."

This style of expression was quite unique. Since there’s no direct English-to-Chinese translation style on this world, Han Jimei initially found the language a bit awkward, but she also sensed a certain charm in its strangeness.

By this point, Han Jimei realized that Mrs. A intended to sell her hair. It was a difficult decision, as her hair was something she loved and took great pride in.

“Her beautiful hair cascaded over her shoulders, like a shiny black waterfall. It flowed all the way down to her knees, as if it were a gown made just for her. Nervously, she brushed it quickly, hesitated for a moment, and then stood there quietly. A few tears fell onto the worn red carpet.”

The more the story described the beauty of Mrs. A's hair, the more Han Jimei could feel the woman’s reluctance and heartache. But in the end, Mrs. A sold her hair and managed to get twenty dollars. With that, she bought a white watch chain for twenty-three dollars, her reward after half an hour of haggling.

Returning home with just eighty cents left, Mrs. A was thrilled. It turns out...

“Even though Mr. A's watch was elegant, he only glanced at it secretly now and then because he was using an old leather strap in place of a proper chain.”

At home, she looked in the mirror repeatedly. With her short hair tied back, she looked like a schoolgirl who had skipped class. Suddenly, anxiety set in.

Would he be angry? Would he scold her harshly? After all, he had complimented her hair so many times. Without her long hair, would he still find her as beautiful?

She hesitated, nervous. Seeing this, Han Jimei couldn’t help but feel sympathy for this woman. If there were a Tang Dynasty in this world, Han Jimei might have thought of the phrase, “For poor couples, every little thing causes sorrow,” and worried for them.

But the moment of truth was inevitable. The story continued from Mrs. A's perspective:

“The door opened, and her husband walked in, casually closing it behind him. He was thin and looked very serious. Poor fellow, only twenty-two years old, and already carrying the weight of a family! He needed a new coat and didn’t even have gloves.”

She truly loved her husband. Chu Kuang didn’t spend much time explicitly describing her love, but it was evident in the small details woven throughout the story.

Would he be angry? Like Mrs. A, Han Jimei was curious about what Mr. A was thinking at that moment. She wondered if a slap might be coming next—

Only a scumbag would do something like that! If that happened, Han Jimei decided she would never read another one of Chu Kuang's novels.

“You cut your hair?” Mr. A asked, as if it took all his mental energy to comprehend this simple fact.

Was he angry? Like Mrs. A, Han Jimei wondered about Mr. A's emotions. She wasn’t sure if the next moment would reveal anger.

“Yes, I sold it,” Mrs. A replied. “Do you still love me the same way? I’m still me, even without my hair, right?”

She asked with such caution, almost as if she were begging for reassurance. By this point, the story was drawing to a close, and Han Jimei still couldn’t predict how it would end. Then, she read the following lines:

“Mr. A took a package out of his coat pocket and placed it on the table. ‘Don’t get me wrong, my dear,’ he said. ‘No amount of cutting or trimming will make me love you any less. But open that package, and you’ll understand why I was so shocked.’”

Mrs. A quickly tore open the package, and there came a joyful shout, quickly followed by nervous tears. The apartment’s landlord would have had to use all his comforting skills to calm her down.

It was a set of combs! The items Mr. A had bought were those hair combs she had longed for—the full set, including ones for the sides and back of her hair. They had been displayed in the window of the most luxurious shop in town, and Mrs. A had desired them for a long time but never had the money to buy them.

They were made of pure tortoiseshell, decorated with jewels. They would have matched her now-gone hair perfectly.

Mrs. A knew how valuable those combs were. She had admired them for so long but never imagined she’d actually own them one day. Yet now they were hers, even though the hair they were meant for was gone.

"..."

Han Jimei's mouth dropped open. She couldn’t describe her emotions. The story had perfectly captured Mrs. A's feelings: “She clutched the combs to her chest and held them for a long time before she could look up with tear-filled eyes and smile at her husband. ‘My hair grows fast,’ she said.”

Then, Mrs. A took out the watch chain. Eagerly, she asked her husband: “Do you like it? I searched the whole city for it. Now you'll be able to check your watch a hundred times a day. Let me see how it looks on your watch.”

At this point, Han Jimei began to relax, and a knowing smile spread across her face.

Although Mrs. A had sold her hair, her husband wasn’t angry. He simply sighed, knowing the combs would go unused for a while.

What a lovely ending. The story was filled with such a beautiful sentiment, it made Han Jimei almost want to fall in love—despite already being married.

She took a sip of tea, expecting the final paragraph to offer a neat conclusion. Something like, “This is a tale of true love,” perhaps?

But the next lines made her nearly spit her tea all over the magazine:

“Mr. A didn’t follow her request. He just lay down on the couch, arms behind his head, and started laughing. ‘We’ll save the Christmas gifts for now. They’re too nice to use just yet—we’re going to wait. I sold the gold watch to buy your combs.’”

And with that, the story abruptly ended.

In that moment, Han Jimei sat there, dumbfounded.

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