I Became an All-round Artist

Chapter 84: Stroke of Genius



Lin Yuan dialed the number and asked, "Are you free right now?"

Zhong Yu, balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder, replied, "I’m in the cafeteria having lunch. What can I do for you, Master?"

Lin Yuan said, "After you finish eating, could you bring all your gouache painting supplies to classroom 52 in the East Building?"

"What for?"

"We need to make a blackboard mural."

Zhong Yu was momentarily stunned but quickly responded, "On my way."

Without another word, Zhong Yu abandoned his meal, standing up abruptly. "You guys, come with me."

"Huh?" A few classmates sitting nearby asked curiously, "What’s going on?"

"Master Lin needs help with a blackboard mural," Zhong Yu explained.

The others paused, then broke into laughter. "Isn't the mural for the second-year students? The judging’s this afternoon! Isn’t it a bit late for that?"

Zhong Yu retorted, "What do you think you’re here for?"

Suddenly, everyone realized. "Oh, right! With so many of us art geeks together, no blackboard mural can be that hard! Is Master Lin planning a gouache painting?"

"Yep, grab your stuff!"

As Zhong Yu set off, he quickly sent a message to their group chat: Master Lin's class needs a blackboard mural. Anyone good with gouache, come to classroom 52 in the East Building.

Immediately, responses poured in:

"On my way!"

"How could I not come when the Master calls?"

"Does Master Lin really need us amateurs for this?"

"Are you dumb? Lin Yuan is a master of sketching, not gouache. They're not the same thing!"

Indeed, gouache and sketching were entirely different disciplines, with no guaranteed overlap in skill.

"True! Never thought I'd see the day when Master Lin needed my help."

"It’s time to show Master Lin what I can do with gouache and reclaim the dignity I lost when we were sketching!"

"Calm down, folks, the mural doesn’t need that many people."

"Alright, maybe just a few of the best gouache painters will go."

"With only a few hours left before judging, seven or eight people should be more than enough."

The group chat buzzed with excitement as a bunch of students left the cafeteria, following Zhong Yu. They were all students in Lin Yuan’s sketching classes.

Back in the composition classroom, class leader Cao Bin looked dumbfounded as Lin Yuan hung up the phone. "Who did you call?"

"Friends from the art department," Lin Yuan replied.

"What year?"

"Third year."

Cao Bin’s eyes widened, his expression turning from shock to joy. "Of course! If anyone can pull this off in such a short time, it’s the art students, especially experienced third-years! You should call a few more of them—there’s still hope!"

Lin Yuan shook his head. "I only called one."

"One isn’t enough!" Cao Bin became anxious. "We need more people, or we won’t make it in time. Could you call your friend back and ask them to bring more upperclassmen? This is serious. Yan Mengjia, who’s been organizing this mural, took a leave of absence last semester due to health reasons, so she’s short on credits. A good result on this mural would give her a credit boost, and you know the rules—if she doesn’t earn enough credits, she won’t graduate. She’s really stressed, even though she hasn’t blamed the classmate who forgot to close the window…"

The more Cao Bin talked, the more worked up he became, until suddenly his voice trailed off. He stared, slack-jawed, at the scene outside the window.

A massive crowd surged through the corridor and into the classroom, so large that the doorway could barely accommodate them all.

"You call this one person?" Cao Bin gaped at Lin Yuan.

Even Lin Yuan was taken aback. Leading the group was Zhong Yu, but behind him was a crowd of students, most of whom were from Lin Yuan’s sketching classes in the art club.

Zhong Yu grinned, "Master."

Lin Yuan nodded, wasting no time. "We're short on time. Can you help me organize the paints?"

Zhong Yu was already thinking about the mural’s layout and barely heard Lin Yuan’s words. He quickly barked orders, "We're pressed for time. You, start organizing the paints. Someone else fetch some water. Everyone, get into your positions!"

As he spoke, Zhong Yu pulled out his phone to look up mural designs online. Blackboard murals were all about copying established art, and once a design was chosen, it could be transferred onto the board.

A few minutes later, Zhong Yu found a design he liked, but when he turned back to the room, he noticed something strange. Everyone was staring, frozen, as if in shock, their eyes locked on the blackboard.

“What’s going on?” Zhong Yu followed their gaze and then saw it—a breathtaking sight:

Lin Yuan stood atop a perfectly aligned row of chairs, holding a large brush. With incredible speed, he applied the base colors directly onto the board, completely skipping the chalk sketching phase. Then, using bold strokes, he swiftly outlined a misty, grey-blue mountain range, its majestic presence emerging before everyone’s eyes.

Two students stood nearby, holding paint trays. Lin Yuan, with effortless precision, switched brushes and dipped them into various hues, flawlessly blending shades. As layer upon layer of color was applied, the mountains came to life with a vivid three-dimensional depth.

Three minutes...
Seven minutes...
Fifteen minutes...
Thirty-two minutes...

Time passed in silence. No one spoke. All eyes were glued to Lin Yuan as he worked. The art department’s best gouache painters had been relegated to mere assistants, holding paint trays and brushes, but no one minded. Their eyes shone with admiration.

"Swish, swish."
Lin Yuan painted rapidly, each stroke executed with a deliberate yet effortless confidence. It was as if he instinctively knew how to mix each color, skipping the need for any preliminary sketches. His accuracy was uncanny, as if the outline had already been laid out invisibly before him.

"Swap the palette!"
"Got it!"

Students switched out the paint trays as others brought new supplies, but no one could keep up with Lin Yuan's speed. His focus was unbreakable.

As the larger brushes were replaced with smaller ones, the mural’s details began to emerge:
A raft floated on the water; a tiny figure with a straw hat stood atop it. The dynamic interplay of light and shadow made the scene almost lifelike:
Emerald mountains shrouded in mist,
A waterfall cascading into the river,
Raging currents,
Resilient pines,
And a sky filled with soaring clouds.

Lin Yuan was in a state of intense concentration, wielding multiple brushes simultaneously—three tucked into his belt, one in his mouth, and two in his hands, swapping them out as he painted. His gaze never left the blackboard.

The shore featured mysterious buildings.
The waters teemed with unseen fish.
Crabs scuttled across the beach,
While white sails billowed in the distant horizon.

When Lin Yuan finished the final strokes with his smallest brush, his neck and wrists were aching from exhaustion. But the mural on the blackboard was complete.

The scene connected mountains and seas seamlessly: pine trees nestled in mist, radiant hues of sunset, seagulls soaring freely—an awe-inspiring landscape.

A stroke of genius!

At that moment, the students who had helped Lin Yuan—those holding the paint trays, fetching brushes, and cleaning palettes—were overwhelmed by two emotions:

Pride, and humility.

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