Autumn rain tapped patteringly against the floor-to-ceiling windows. Standing in my twenty-eighth-floor office and gazing at the bustling traffic below, I suddenly remembered that the day Qin Kemo left three years ago had been just like this.
We had just graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts back then. I was holding my hastily finished graduation piece to go find her, only to see a red honour roll posted downstairs at her dormitory bearing the notice: "Admitted to the Royal Art Academy in Country D." She was standing beneath a parasol tree, fine droplets of rain clinging to the ends of her hair, her eyes shining as though they concealed stars. "Shen Yan, I'm going to Country D for further studies. This has always been my dream."
My hand clutching the sketches trembled slightly, my throat feeling as though something had choked it. The day before, my father had just told me that my grandfather was critically ill and I had to return to take over the family business. Those blueprints for our future—opening a art studio together and holding joint exhibitions—shattered into fine dust in the face of reality.
Chapter 165