22. Starry Sky
At precisely 1:30 in the afternoon, He Mian appeared at the classroom door right on time.
A wave of astonishment swept through the room.
Su Yun glanced over; even though it had only been five hours since their last meeting, she still found He Mian strikingly handsome—so beautiful it was almost unreal.
The Italian bespoke suit he wore added to his allure. She had picked it for him herself that morning, her taste proving impeccable—though she’d never admit it was He Mian’s own sense of style that truly shone.
He Mian walked straight toward her. Su Yun smiled and greeted him, “Hello, I’m Su Yun, the interpreter for today’s lecture.”
He Mian nodded in response. Suddenly, he leaned in for a French greeting, his cheek brushing hers, and whispered by her ear, “Looking at me like that—are you planning to devour me?”
There was a collective gasp from the audience below. Xiao Bao maintained a calm facade, but inwardly cursed: damn it, yet another helping of public affection.
Dog of a man!
Su Yun’s ears flushed red, but she did her best to remain composed. She was admiring the suit, not him!
After the department instructor introduced them, the lecture officially began.
Most of the students in the department were from Paris, so He Mian spoke in English and Su Yun interpreted in French.
The lecture’s theme was “The Brilliance of the Starry Sky: The Next Dazzling You.”
He Mian had no prepared speech; he spoke freely, sharing whatever came to mind.
Su Yun provided consecutive interpretation, swiftly jotting down notes to ensure accurate delivery.
He Mian’s pauses were natural, and Su Yun translated promptly, their coordination seamless.
In the final five minutes, they opened the floor for questions, and students eagerly participated.
The first to speak was a curly-haired young man: “Hello, Master He, my question is, for someone without talent who still wants to make a living as an artist, do you think it’s worth persisting?”
After Su Yun finished translating, He Mian turned to the audience. “I believe many people struggle with this dilemma—how to choose between life and dreams. In my opinion, life should be about doing what you love. If you persist, hope remains, and one day you may achieve your goal. Perhaps you’ll live your entire life in poverty, but so what? We pursue our own dreams and do what brings us joy; that alone makes life fulfilling.”
The speech won rousing applause.
This was the effect of celebrity—when the words came from an idol, their weight increased tenfold.
The second question: “Hello, Master He, I deeply admire your work. ‘Starry Sky’ is your iconic masterpiece, also known as ‘Longing.’ What inspired you to paint it?”
He Mian replied with humor, “If I say I had no inspiration, would that betray the romantic atmosphere of Paris?”
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
“I spent an entire night on that painting. The sky was beautiful, and I thought of someone from the past. I wondered if she was also gazing at that same sky, and so I began to paint.”
Someone jokingly asked who that person was—his first love, perhaps?
He Mian just smiled, offering no answer.
Gradually, the tone shifted; the art seminar turned into a survey of He Mian’s personal preferences.
For the final question, He Mian singled out a young lady: “Master He, do you have a girlfriend? Even if you do, I’d still be willing to be your lover.”
A bold confession in a public setting; Su Yun translated with an impassive tone, but inwardly felt nervous, worried He Mian might say something inappropriate.
He Mian smiled calmly. “It’s an honor to have your affection. But I do have a girlfriend, and I don’t intend to change that. Besides, she’s quite jealous, and I wouldn’t dare stray. If I ever become single, perhaps you’ll be the first I consider.”
His reply was witty yet dignified, prompting waves of laughter.
Xiao Bao’s fists clenched and relaxed again—another unexpected dose of public affection.
“Do you have another class later?” He Mian quietly asked Su Yun as he walked to her side.
“No.”
“Su Yun, do you have any more work after this?” As everyone dispersed, Li Ruocheng approached and asked.
She probably didn’t; Su Yun instinctively glanced at He Mian.
“And who might you be?” He Mian inquired.
“Hello, I’m Li Ruocheng, Su Yun’s classmate. I’m a fan of yours and especially admire your paintings,” Li Ruocheng replied, though his claim of fandom felt slightly perfunctory.
He had witnessed He Mian embracing Su Yun in a greeting, and that moment inexplicably unsettled him. It was within the bounds of etiquette, but still pierced his heart—perhaps because He Mian was simply too dazzling.
“It’s my honor,” He Mian said with a polite but distant smile. “By the way, I am Su Yun’s boy…”