Recalling the past, Nathan Moore beca lost in thought, the once lively sparkle in his eyes now absent, and the smile that once graced his handso face no longer there.
Suddenly, Titus Zane reprimanded, "Nathan Moore, stay focused, I’m painting here!"
Startled back to reality, Nathan Moore regained his composure, looked towards the ferocious-looking woman, and effortlessly regained his smile before speaking leisurely.
"Titus Zane, I co at a high price. You probably can’t afford as a life model."
"Pssh!" With a scoff, Titus Zane glanced at Nathan Moore and continued to paint diligently, "This master also cos with a hefty price tag. The fact that you have the honor of having paint your portrait personally is sothing you should be secretly thrilled about."
As Titus Zane finished speaking, Nathan Moore fell silent.
Once, in an uncle’s ho, he had seen a painting hanging on the living room wall. Although he did not understand it and had no knowledge of oil painting, he found the technique strangely familiar, as if encountering an old acquaintance.
Seeing him staring intently at the oil painting for a long ti, his relative said with a smile, "It’s not a masterpiece, but the work of a young artist. I like it very much. It’s not hard to see from this painting that the artist has talent. I believe it won’t be long before he becos a legend in the contemporary oil painting world..."
At the ti, he didn’t think much of it and only noticed the signature beneath the oil painting was a series of letters, seemingly starting with a C.
"Titus Zane, have you painted a lot in the past?"
"Nonsense, what else would a professional artist do if not paint?"
Titus Zane continued to sketch without lifting his head, casually replying.
"Is the signature below your paintings your na?"
"It’s my surna in English spelling."
Nathan Moore...
His heart felt as though it had been struck by sothing heavy and sudden, for it was still trembling from the impact.
If he recalled correctly, the signature at the bottom of the oil painting he had seen in that relative’s house said Ceng!
The surna Zane, when translated into English, would be spelled like that.
His brows involuntarily furrowed, "Why didn’t you continue pursuing a career as an artist?"
"Nathan Moore, it’s easy for you to say. Being an artist burns money. If you keep painting and no one appreciates or collects your work, they’ll all end up as waste paper. An ordinary family just can’t afford it."
Nathan Moore finally understood why Titus Zane no longer painted. It wasn’t because of a trembling hand, but rather... without the support of her family, penniless as she was, even her own survival was a struggle, let alone finding extra money to buy those luxurious paints, brushes...
"Don’t you find it a pity?" His voice was low, a lant for the talent of a gifted artist being stifled.
"What’s there to regret? Just bored and tired of it, so I switched to a new industry. Otherwise, life would just be monotonous, sitting in front of a canvas."
Whether Titus Zane’s words were genuine or against her heart, Nathan Moore couldn’t tell, as she spoke with an indifferent tone that seed to harbor no regret.
However, anyone who has ever had a dream knows that being forced to give it up and enter a disliked profession is a truly painful decision.
Wanting to say sothing comforting, yet not knowing how to start. If she truly had given up her dream under duress, then he, Nathan Moore, would be the one to bla for forcing her into that corner.
The atmosphere grew heavy, or at least that’s how Nathan Moore felt since he was almost suffocating.
Maybe it was the gloomy mood or perhaps his arms had been in the sa position for too long, but Nathan Moore wanted to change posture. Just as he was about to ask, he saw Titus Zane sigh with relief, looking at her work contentedly with a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
"That’s enough, you can get up now."
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