Chapter 809 - This Is Life (2/2)

It was certain that arable lands could be found in the mountains. This mountain village had a nice location as the soil here was quite fertile, sufficient for them to create a bunch of stepped fields that were strewn randomly around the mountains.

Currently, old farmers could be seen working in the fields. This village used to be a large village, but due to transportation issues, most of the young blood of the village had left for a better life elsewhere. Only the old parents and the children of the younger generation working outside were left in the village.

Therefore, only the upper half of the stepped fields was still lush while the lower half was already abandoned.

Wu Hai was drawing his inspiration from the view. Maintaining the same posture, he started painting, and this lasted for three whole hours.

The time he took was sufficient for the kids to go back for their meals and return here. As for Zheng Jiawei, he went to the house that had invited Wu Hai for a meal to explain what was going on and returned to Wu Hai with several Box Fried Breads.

After three hours, Wu Hai was so tired he laid on the ground weakly. His painting had been completed in a single seating.

Zheng Jiawei walked over, about to pass Wu Hai some warm water. But when his gaze landed on the newly completed painting, he blanked out.

The painting was very beautiful.

What attracted Zheng Jiawei the most when he first laid eyes on the painting were the stepped fields, the blue sky, and the beautiful landscape. Every single line drawn by Wu Hai was as smooth as the breeze rustling on the grassland, creating a perfectly harmonious wave of green.

The more he looked at the painting, the prettier it looked. It was not the landscape that was beautiful, but the old farmer on the field that was beautiful. The bland colors used for his simple attire and the spring water flowing down the mountain made one feel as if one could hear the sound of the flowing spring water from the painting itself.

This was the beauty of honest hard work.

Zheng Jiawei had been Wu Hai’s manager for quite a while. He had attended many art exhibitions and had seen many legendary and famous paintings. But paintings this beautiful were very, very, rare.

“What is the name of this painting?” Zheng Jiawei asked, forgetting that he was here to give Wu Hai some water.

“This Is Life,” Wu Hai answered weakly, slumped on the tree roots.

What a weird name. Was he trying to say that living in such a beautiful place was how life should best be lived?

Based on Zheng Jiawei’s understanding of Wu Hai, that was definitely not the case. Compared to beautiful scenery, Wu Hai much preferred good food. The only way that could be his reason for this name was if Yuan Zhou was kidnapped and brought here.

Zheng Jiawei continued studying the painting and suddenly, he felt like a lightning bolt struck him once he noticed one particular aspect of the painting.

“It’s not hard work, its tiring work,” Zheng Jiawei said.

Many paintings featuring farmers would depict the farmer hard at work. Although hard work and tiring work had only a one-word difference, the meaning behind it was entirely different.

If one carefully looked at this painting, one would find that the farmer was doing tiring work. Wu Hai was very good in the details of the painting. The farmer’s hair was in disarray like a field of withered grass, while his expression was dark, as if he was bearing the weight of a mountain on his back. The simple clothing he wore was, in fact, cheap and old clothing, and if one only looked at this old farmer alone, the only thought one would have was the saying: “Who knows of the tiring journey of work that had been traversed by every single grain of rice on this bowl?”

The old man was doing a tiring work at an exceptionally beautiful location. Both of these were the opposite of each other, yet were perfectly joined by Wu Hai in a single painting. If one did not study the painting properly, one wouldn’t even notice the actual meaning of it.

What was life? Regardless of how beautiful the environment was, it could not be a substitute for a meal. That was life. An environment might be beautiful for a tourist, but for those residing in the mountain village, a bountiful harvest was much more important than a beautiful environment.

“The praise for nature, the solace of the mountain villagers,” Zheng Jiawei lamented. Then, he evaluated, “Ah Hai, this is your best painting ever since you have arrived here.”

“To be precise, in your over 20 years of painting career, this is one of your best paintings.” Based on Zheng Jiawei’s professional opinion, the value of this painting was definitely not lower than the People Passing By a Small Restaurant painting. One ought to know that that was a painting that was being offered high prices by tycoons, setting a new price record for modern paintings in the country.

Of course, People Passing By a Small Restaurant was still being hung in Yuan Zhou’s restaurant.