Gradually, the development of many things was beyond Gu Xingqiao's control.
From one day on, Tianyuan no longer deliberately stayed close to Gu Xingqiao's body like before, making his possessiveness undoubtedly manifest in daily life.
On the contrary, his behavior returned to its previous level of restraint and courtesy, and he developed the habit of giving portraits as gifts.
Gu Xingqiao picked up the first one from the thin and crisp paper of the copperplate printing. The fine black ink and soft carbon particles were transformed into cold and sharp lines by the painter. The mechanical life didn't care about any skills or styles. He just used precise brushstrokes to repeat Gu Xingqiao's profile like taking a photo.
The light of the battleship was cold. The young man in the painting was looking at an unknown front with a relaxed expression and slightly parted lips. He was calm with a habitual awe-inspiring manner, and his hair cast a vague shadow on his skin.
Portraits are very special gifts. If the giver is a stranger, such as a painter who suddenly appears on the street and paints with your image, or an artist you don’t know in a gallery, then the recipient will not feel embarrassed but will feel very honored. However, if the giver is an acquaintance, and an acquaintance who tries to develop an ambiguous relationship with you...
Such a gift is tantamount to a self-evident confession.
Gu Xingqiao was a little confused.
"Creation is the projection of subjective consciousness onto the objective world, and it is also the embodiment of the emotional feelings of intelligent life," Tianyuan said, "and it is also my attempt to get closer to the human side. Although this seems more like a waste of time for me, when I think of you, the pen in my hand seems to move spontaneously."
—However, Tianyuan used his straightforward tone and calm attitude to make the ambiguous feelings of giving the painting as a natural thing.
Gu Xingqiao thought about it for a while. He could not see the harm of this matter, nor could he find any reason to object, so he decided to go with Tianyuan.
With his tacit permission, the endless stream of paintings flowed around him like a river without source or end.
Sometimes, it is painted on precious marble-textured paper, meticulously crafted with gold foil patterns, richly and passionately decorating the eyes and eyebrows of the people in the painting; sometimes its carrier is an old film paper, which simulates the characters in every detail like a real photo; sometimes Gu Xingqiao smiles in the painting, sometimes he is thinking, eating, drinking water and sleeping in the painting, and sometimes he holds a weapon and casually brushes off the dog hair stuck on his sleeves...
As the paintings were sent to him one by one and he looked at them one by one, he realized that there were some things that made him feel uneasy.
…too many.
Not only are there too many, but they are also too thin.
Tianyuan's gift of paintings was completely random, unlike gifts with a fixed delivery time. They would appear at his hand in the morning of two days later or in the evening of three days later, and no later than a week.
This is terrible, Gu Xingqiao thought.
People often joke that people who know how to be self-disciplined are the most terrifying. But what about a mechanical intelligence that abandons plans and procedures and gradually "follows its heart"
Everything in their daily life went on as usual. On the surface, they were still partners, but Gu Xingqiao's intuition told him that something was wrong.