The girl proudly presented her painting to her mother, eager to share her achievement. The woman, absorbed in selecting jewelry to wear, stole a fleeting glance at the artwork. "Impressive, Zhezhi," she murmured with a brief smile. Delighted by the praise, the girl inched closer. "The people in this one are—" Her words faltered as her mother turned, absorbed in wardrobe choices, oblivious to her daughter's attempt at connection. "Well done. Now, why don't you paint a few more before the guests arrive?" Zhezhi blinked, at a loss for words. Her mother grew impatient, sighing as she marched Zhezhi to the door. "Buy whatever supplies you need, dear. The price doesn't matter, we can afford it. Now, I need to dress. Be a good girl. Off you go.” As the door closed, Zhezhi stared at it, wanting to say more but unable to find the courage to voice the sinking feeling in her chest.
Later that evening, Zhezhi, dressed to impress, nervously clutched her skirt in the corner seat, silent amidst the bustling room of guests. The woman noted Zhezhi's unease, the sight of it triggering memories of their family's past struggles and humble beginnings. She strode forward, taking Zhezhi's hand and leading her into the center of attention. "Didn't you know? Zhezhi was gifted from the day she was born. Her paintings were chosen for exhibitions even before we hired a tutor." With a painted smile, she mimicked the grace of the upper class. "Would you care for a painting too? Zhezhi can finish one in a day." Zhezhi shrank inwardly, wishing to disappear, only to be thrust forward. "Show everyone your skills, Zhezhi." All eyes turned to her, leaving Zhezhi trembling, unable to paint a single stroke.
Later, as the mansion fell silent, Zhezhi gathered her courage again. Holding the day's painting, she approached her parents' bedroom door. Just before knocking, she overheard their conversation inside.
"Did you know? That painting sold for 400,000 Credits today. With this money, we can fulfill the paused order."
"Right. Are the paintings for the guests ready for this weekend?"
"Not yet. Zhezhi mentioned wanting to go to the theater. That girl, always seeking diversions, never thinking about what's best for this family..."
Zhezhi looked down at the happy family in the painting, her grip tightening until it crumpled, distorting her mother and father's faces.
"...I'm sorry."
Zhezhi realized something was amiss in her painting only after heading out for a sketch. As she took in the idyllic countryside, a new idea struck her like a ray of sunlight. Glancing around to make sure she was alone, she stretched her arms, and for a moment, let go of her parents' demands.
As her bare feet met the grass, its prickly, cool softness awakened a sense of nature's healing vitality. She broke into an impulsive run, shedding worries about upholding the refined image her family demanded. A distant voice abruptly interrupted her frolic.
"Hey, who are you? What are you doing in our field?"
Startled, Zhezhi immediately looked down at her feet in embarrassment. Realizing she was trespassing on private property, she apologized as she tried to leave. "I'm so sorry! I came here to paint. I didn't know this was someone's field..."
The girl laughed, seeing the panic on Zhezhi's face. "Don't worry! These veggies are tough. You don't need to run!" She laughed as she continued gathering the vegetables with her sickle. "A painter, huh? That's different..." Zhezhi hesitated for a moment, seeing the girl hard at work. "Let me help you with that..." The girl met Zhezhi's eyes with a twinkle. "Sure! Thanks for offerin'! Here, use this sickle, I'll go grab another one!"
Zhezhi stared in confusion at the sickle promptly shoved into her hands. But she soon squatted down among the tall vegetables, mimicking the farm girl's movements. "Wait, wait. You won't get anywhere doin' it like that. Here, lemme show ya!"
Under the hot sun, the two girls worked together to harvest the field until they reached its end. Exhausted, they lay under a tree to rest. Zhezhi forgot about the mud on her shoes and the dirt on her expensive dress, lost in the joy of spending time with her new friend. The carefree laughter between them filled her heart with ease and brought a true smile to her lips.
The mood was suddenly cut by a sharp voice. Zhezhi turned to see her mother watching, her eyes squinted in anger. Zhezhi could see her disdain for her new friend. Sprinting to her feet, she ran to explain and apologize, transforming back into the child her parents demanded she be.
A few days later, the girl received a scroll. She unrolled it carefully, gasping softly at the sight. The painting showed her and Zhezhi in the sprawling fields of her home, picking vegetables together.
A letter fell from the painting.