It was one o'clock in the morning in the public studio of the Art Department. There was only a lone lamp left, casting a warm yellow halo in the empty room.
Lin Zhixia had been working alone in the empty studio for three hours, but at this critical moment, she discovered that the cobalt blue color, which was most important for painting night scenes, had bottomed out.
When I was at a loss, a girl who claimed to be from the Chinese Department came in carrying a paint box that looked new.
But how could a girl from the Chinese Department carry a paint box and know how to paint?
When leaving, she suddenly remembered that the girl hadn't told her her name yet. She, who had always been arrogant, felt a sense of inexplicable loss in her heart. She shook her head again, feeling that she was really weird. She just borrowed some paint, so why should she care about the name.
The evening breeze was slightly cool, and she looked up at the night sky.
The stars are very bright, like the girl's eyes.
Many years later... Lin Zhixia's field of vision was filled with that girl, and she could vaguely feel the strangeness coming from her skin.
"Zhi Xia, I seem to be... Getting greedy."
Concept: The little painter in the story fell in love with a writer who loved her deeply.