Chapter 687: Turmoil of the Heart (Part 2)

This level of wisteria, he has painted countless times since April.

By now, he might need to paint ten or so clusters of such small flowers just to see the progress bar for Chinese Painting reluctantly move upward a bit on the system panel.

Whether aiming to effectively replicate Tang Ning’s “Hundred Flowers Painting” or to thereby break through to the Tier Two Professional field, it still isn’t quite enough.

While reading “Heavenly Rain Flowing Fragrance,” there was a moment when he felt he had found the feeling he was looking for.

But when Gu Weijing concentrated on recalling that state, he fell into a deeper level of confusion.

In the realm of authentic Chinese painting, wisteria represents the noble aura of auspiciousness.

In Li Bai’s “Wisteria Tree,” “Wisteria climbs the cloud-topped tree, its flower vines suit the sunny spring,” it reveals the prosperous atmosphere of spring mountain flowers blooming everywhere.

In “Heavenly Rain Flowing Fragrance,” the painting technique selected by Xu Wei of “wildly throwing wild vines,” reveals a melancholic aura of pearls hidden in dust.

And on Lady Tangning’s “Hundred Flowers Painting,” the purple small flowers that adorn the few peonies and plum blossoms look like a few drops of refreshing, distant purple mist amidst the blooming flowers, difficult to fathom.

At this moment, Gu Weijing seems to stand at the crossroad of a fog-covered intersection, each road in all directions seemingly leading to the distance, with a rope extending from the end of each road and tying to him.

Any of these solutions seems justifiable.

But as he takes steps toward a certain path, it seems as though he is inexplicably pulled by resistance, various artistic conceptions intertwining.

Gu Weijing realized.

He found himself a bit unclear about what kind of floral conception would be appropriate.

It was for this reason.

He conceived the idea of coming to the botanical garden to stand under real flowering trees and experience what it feels like to have vines and flowers drop from his shoulders like purple streams.

Upon arriving, he discovered that the environment was indeed quite suitable for artistic inspiration from nature.

Springtime at the botanical garden is its most beautiful season, with vibrant flowers blooming in abundance.

Yet, there aren’t many visitors.

Myanmar’s hot season hasn’t completely passed, and there are only a scattered few international travelers.

Locals are busy with their livelihoods, and the dense primeval forest lies just outside Yangon City, leaving most residents uninterested in taking a train to specifically see plants.

Aside from the sound of the wind and the gentle lapping of the water infiltrating the gaps in the round marble embankments along the riverbank, there’s a slow-flowing sound.

Gu Weijing and Koizumi Katsuko seemed to enter a quiet little realm.

The female bodyguard and Uncle Ah Lai kindled a portable barbecue tray about ten meters away, using charcoal and solid alcohol.

The two young people are drawing and don’t appear keen on eating grilled meat.

They didn’t come to disturb Gu Weijing, just chatting here and there without knowing what about.

Since their brief conversation that day, the bodyguard lady has been both curious and respectful of this lame man, and the two have gotten along quite well.

Jasmine had barely chased Ah Wang around the lawn for a few laps before Ah Wang completely gave up resisting.

April is the season when cats shed fur.

A tabby cat isn’t like a Persian cat, which lives in high latitudes and looks like a big ball of yarn with long fur, but Ah Wang’s fur is also quite lovely.

She always thought her ginger tiger-like spots and the fat she gained from eating cat food this month made her a burden under the bright sun.

Moving made her feel hot, with sweaty, damp paws, and she lacked energy.

Ah Wang found a shady spot and slumped there, choosing to let Jasmine squish and pinch his ten pounds of soft flesh.

If you want to play, here’s a cat.

Pet as you wish, but I’m going to sleep.

In general.

This is a completely undisturbed place where one can focus wholeheartedly on artistic creation.

The only issue is Koizumi Katsuko’s striking appearance, which sometimes leads to foreign tourists, overwhelmed with affection, requesting photos when walking on Yangon’s streets.

However, now, from a distance, Gu Weijing and Koizumi Katsuko appear as a couple or siblings.

So basically, no one would bother coming over to chat them up.

Apart from some bold, flamboyant Italian backpackers approaching in the morning, trying to ask if they could have the honor of inviting them to join for beer and music.

The invitation was mainly directed at Koizumi Katsuko, with Gu Weijing as an incidental addition.

Before they could get close, they were intercepted in advance by the bodyguard lady, who politely declined.

Nonetheless.

Despite such beautiful scenery, Gu Weijing still felt somewhat interrupted and out of sorts, with his mood a bit irritated.

The most pressing question was.

Where are the flowers?

Damn it, where did those two large wisteria trees mentioned in the travel guide go?

That’s right.

They were met with a rather unwelcome piece of news upon arriving at the botanical garden.

The flowering period for wisteria in Dongxia occurs from late April to early May each year.

Yangon’s climate is more humid and warm than Dongxia, which means the blooming time is slightly earlier, making this the perfect time for viewing wisteria flowers.

The downside is.

Wisteria is an inexpensive and common flower in Asia, found in abundance in Dongxia’s Jiangnan, Seoul in South Korea, and Nara in Japan.

But in Yangon, it is not a common plant.

In neighborhoods around Gu’s Painting and Calligraphy Gallery and city parks within Yangon City, it’s hard to find even a trace of this lilac-colored flower.

Fortunately, Koizumi Katsuko specifically checked the botanical reference and discovered that when the Royal Botanical Garden was constructed, the British, keen to showcase the Sun Never Sets Empire, wanted to create a plant showcase garden that included every possible species, like a botanical exposition.

They even invited botanists from the Royal Society to introduce hundreds of common Asian plant species, with more than twenty varieties of roses alone.

That was the prevailing mindset back then.

The British wanted to claim that they not only ruled over the inhabitants of the five continents but also over all kinds of animals and plants.

Besides similar botanical museums, there were also ethnological zoos filled with racial prejudice, showcasing residents of different skin colors from Asia and Africa, treating them like monkeys for paid viewing—also a product of that era.

In a strange turn of events, the British fixation on collecting two hundred years ago surprisingly helped Gu Weijing, as wisteria was included in the official plant listings of the Yangon Royal Botanical Garden.

Excitedly, they took the train and ran over here, went around in circles, and yet saw no trace of the wisteria trees.

Uncle Ah Lai inquired with the cultivation researchers in the park and found out.

In 2019, the botanical garden was redesigned to establish a circular waterway based on the central water system to facilitate boat races during the Water Festival to attract international tourists.

The two large wisteria trees were cut down to build a boat dock, and they arrived three years too late.

“Damn, what bad luck this is!”

Gu Weijing irritably scrunched up the pieces of trimmed rice paper scattered on the table into a ball and tossed it onto a nearby lawn.

Even before lunchtime, Gu Weijing’s feet had accumulated five or six such wads of failed wisteria flower leaf drawings.

It was like heaven itself was conspiring against him.

The incident at the train station in the morning, the video at the railway station, and now at the botanical garden, it was the same everywhere.

Nothing was going his way.

If he had known there were no wisteria trees left in the botanical garden, he would never have come over in this heat!

Gu Weijing vaguely realized his current mental state wasn’t quite right.

In truth, encountering such issues while seeking inspiration isn’t a big deal, just like inviting a model to the studio who doesn’t hold still, or when you envision painting beautiful, flowing lines like those of the War God Ares of Ancient Greece with exaggerated, explosive muscular texture. Yet, the studio teacher introduces you to a gaunt old man as a model, suggesting it’s just an interpretation!

Such frustrating occurrences happen often.

There are even more uncertainties when going out for artistic exploration.

Without the wisteria trees, appreciating the beauty of this botanical garden should still offer valuable insights for painting.