Who would study psychology unless they had some issues?!
Chapter 211 - 209: Warm Home

Chapter 211: Chapter 209: Warm Home

Li Minglu stood in his studio, his eyes unfocused.

In front of him was his desk, with his digital drawing tablet placed on it at an angle.

The lights in the room were off, and the tablet’s screen cast a dim glow, illuminating only a small part of Li Minglu’s face.

The subject of the work before him seemed to be an abandoned rural factory wasteland. The protagonist, a boyish figure with his head raised, stood in the center, surrounded by scattered deep blue tarpaulins, rusty zinc boxes, and murky puddles.

In the farthest distance was the indistinct outline of a small house, blurred and seemingly ready to vanish into the darkness at any moment.

The composition of the painting was exceptionally precise, almost reaching the level of "standard"; the overall color was dominated by dark tones such as brown and gray-black, with only a hint of brightness in the sky the boy was gazing at.

Li Minglu stared blankly at his work before him, and after a long time, as if suddenly awakened, his eyes moved.

He slowly lifted his pen like a puppet, hovering it over the canvas; yet for a long time, he didn’t put the pen down, as if hesitating over something he was extremely unwilling to do.

But eventually, the tip of the pen did touch down.

After about ten minutes, the originally dark-themed canvas gained some vivid and soothing colors, looking noticeably more "complete."

Li Minglu pressed his lips together, his chest slightly sinking, as he let out a long sigh.

[Another painting like this.]

He thought indifferently to himself.

An artist’s work should be about imagination, uninhibited and free; but the current piece felt more like an unravelled high school geometry problem, where every composition and line was as standard and rigid as a problem-solving formula.

This was not "art," but very much "work."

Like he couldn’t bear to look at his own work for another second, Li Minglu mechanically and quickly saved it, changed the file name, compressed it, selected the recipient, and sent the email.

After finishing all this, he turned his head and stared blankly at something in the corner of the studio covered by a dust sheet. From the protruding outline, it seemed to be an easel.

But he only glanced at it before quickly turning back to face the computer screen and falling into a daze.

Knock, knock, knock—

The sound of knocking echoed in the studio. Li Minglu didn’t respond, as if cut off from the outside world.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang—

The noise grew slightly louder and more urgent, escalating from knuckles rapping to fists pounding.

Li Minglu remained oblivious.

Boom—clatter—thud—

It wasn’t until the sound became that of a kicking door that Li Minglu seemed to awaken.

The studio door clicked open, revealing Wang Sui’s sullen face finally at the doorway.

Upon seeing Li Minglu, she immediately and unhesitatingly scolded, "Why did it take so long to open the door again? Why lock it again? Don’t you know your current situation? Do you know how worried I am about you?"

Li Minglu lowered his eyes and slowly said, "...I’m sorry."

Wang Sui raised her chin and pushed past Li Minglu to the desk.

"The deadline is tomorrow, right? Is the painting finished?"

"Yes."

"Can I take a look?"

Although it was phrased as a question, the tone brooked no disobedience.

Li Minglu blinked. Wang Sui rarely made such requests because she generally couldn’t understand his paintings and eventually stopped looking.

Sure enough, after opening it.

"Isn’t this painting similar to yesterday’s? Didn’t you work today?"

"I did, finished it and sent it over."

Wang Sui couldn’t understand the painting, nor did she dwell too long on the topic.

"The son and daughter have been picked up, and I bought some snacks on the way home."

The dining table was set. The contents of disposable paper boxes were served on porcelain plates, paired with their home’s bowls, chopsticks, and spoons, creating a semblance of homey warmth.

Li Minglu looked at his son and daughter sitting by his side, his eyes unusually animated, and a stiff smile formed on his equally stiff face.

He felt he should be happy at this moment, so he ought to smile.

But he didn’t realize the expression he was making was worse than not smiling at all.

As a father, Li Minglu asked with concern, "How were classes today?"

"...Very tiring. The teacher doesn’t seem to like me, nor do the classmates..."

The younger daughter immediately complained, "Dad, when will you take us to the amusement park again?"

The older son nudged his sister with his shoulder as if intending to say something, but it was evidently too late.

Wang Sui had already smacked the table, her scolding following swiftly, "How can you be so thoughtless? Dad is sick and you constantly want him to take you out to play?"

"Hurry up and eat, then go back to study, and sleep!"

The daughter and the caught-in-the-crossfire son became sullen, and their supper quickly ended up tasting as bland as Li Minglu’s.

[Home shouldn’t be like this...]

[The home I want is not like this.]

This thought abruptly flashed in Li Minglu’s mind.

[Why is it like this?]

[Is it because of me?]

Wang Sui, on the other hand, was eating happily. After sending the children to their rooms, she began cleaning up the table.

"A Lu."

"Mm... mm?"

Wang Sui started the water in the sink, "I met another friend today and talked to them about your situation. They seem to know someone in psychology and gave me a lot of suggestions."

"Mhm."

"The snacks were good, weren’t they?" Wang Sui licked her lips as if savoring, while starting to wash the dishes, "Eating delicious food cheers you up. Although eating these things at night might cause weight gain, you can always lose it later. First focus on improving your situation."

"...Mm."

"Also, your paintings—I don’t understand them, but they all seem so gloomy. We should use brighter colors, like red or yellow, to brighten our mood. What is it called... color psychology? You could consider this when painting next time."

"...Mm."

"And."

Wang Sui started rinsing the soap-sudded dishes with clean water, "You need to control yourself in front of the kids."

"...Mm?"

"I heard today that depression might be contagious. It sounds like nonsense, doesn’t it? But then I thought, better safe than sorry. I’m fine, I’d have caught it long ago if it were contagious, but the kids are young and clueless. They seem to be talking less lately."

"I know you’re in pain, but can you hold back when around the kids?"

Li Minglu’s chest seemed to stop moving, and his whole body turned rigid.

"Okay," he said.

"Mm, and A Lu, there’s one more thing I need to tell you..."

Suddenly, both Li Minglu and Wang Sui heard the sound of a phone ringing.

Interrupting Wang Sui’s words.