Nigel took a deep breath, his expression incredibly complex, "I am not the ’prodigy painter’ they tout. I am a despicable human being who lives by selling my dreams and passion... a complete hypocrite."
"I resolved then that I would no longer rely on Paper Princess to sell or deal with my scrap drafts, just as I had decided not to rely on my parents’ financial support to live. This decision made my previously comfortable life imdiately difficult. It wasn’t until I really had to earn my own living that I finally realized... relying solely on my own abilities, I would never have been able to reach this level."
"Even though my family was willing to provide with money for food and accommodation, even though I could practice as hard at ho as I did living outside... the cost of buying canvases and paints, the essentials for practice, was also a very large amount."
"When I truly couldn’t produce any paintings, I was forced to start selling scrap drafts. People said my talent had been exhausted, and masters publicly criticized my painting attitude as wrong and perfunctory."
"Countless people cursed , and even those who had bought my paintings wrote to express their disappointnt. However, only I knew that these scrap drafts were my true level; later on, the works I painted with care, which even moved , were directly regarded as perfunctory by them."
"But every single painting of mine was done with all my effort... I really didn’t... didn’t do it casually..."
Having said that, he sighed deeply, "It’s just that I am too incompetent... that’s all."
This is not a story worth listening to.
Soaked with tears and dust.
Just recalling it already drained him.
"And then?"
After a brief silence, Annan asked gently, "How did you break free from that and beco a famous painter?"
"It’s a long story," Nigel began slowly, "At my lowest point, I found an old book. It contained the ritual for summoning the Bone Duke..."
Upon hearing this, Annan and Lin Yiyi looked up and exchanged glances.
They both clearly realized sothing.
Just then, Jiu’er interjected, "And then? Did you use the ritual in the book?"
"No, because my mother warned that the ritual was fake."
Nigel shook his head, "When I was being cursed by everyone, I finally returned ho in a sorry state. Contrary to my expectations... my parents did not ridicule , nor did they force to beco a wizard again.
"I hesitated for a long ti, but in the end, I gave up the opportunity and chose to believe my mother, acknowledging my lack of talent. So I found a job as an accountant and went out to work.
"I didn’t want to take for granted the hard work of Paper Princess—she is my goddess, the idol I worship. But I also didn’t want to rely on my parents to live... because I had run away from ho, and I didn’t have the face to continue painting at ho as if nothing happened after a disgraceful return."
He took a deep breath and said solemnly, "In the end... I chose Yawen."
"Yawen?"
"Yes. Since my mother said there might be deception in the rituals of these False Gods, I sought help from a True God. I wrote a letter containing the most problematic paintings from those two years, my most satisfactory ones, my painting habits, and many doubts, and offered it through a ritual to Yawen.
"I didn’t expect a response... but eventually, to my surprise, Yawen actually wrote back to ."
The middle-aged painter sighed, "I doubt that I am truly one favored by the gods.
"Though that letter was full of disdainful insults and criticisms, each point was an incredibly precise critique. He circled every issue in my painting, accompanied by harsh comnts. But honestly, each of his evaluations hit the nail on the head. Also included was a painting that Yawen had redrawn himself, the one I was least satisfied with... and to be honest, it was the most beautiful painting I had ever seen.
"Every ti I read that letter, I would cry. Every ti I questioned whether I had the talent for painting and whether I should continue down this path... But when I gritted my teeth and followed Yawen’s criticisms to practice, I indeed made significant progress.
"I endured that humiliation, repeatedly reading Yawen’s feedback and practicing over and over. I even eventually morized every sentence of that letter. It took eight years to fully digest Yawen’s critiques... and by then, I was thirty years old, taking over my father’s work.
"I continued to paint in my spare ti, but no one knew... the Viscount’s financial director was actually ’Nigel’ who had beco famous ten years earlier. People had even forgotten my existence—so even wondered if I had committed suicide, so the last few inferior works I sold ironically increased in value as ’the paintings that drove the genius artist to suicide,’ becoming far more expensive than my proudest works.
"With all my effort, I spent a year creating a painting that I was most satisfied with. I offered it to Yawen again, but he quickly sent back a better painting with new criticisms. However, my conviction could no longer be destroyed by him—I was destined to be a famous artist. I would beco famous again when everyone had forgotten , beco wealthy through painting, and pay off all the debts that Paper Princess had incurred for my dreams...
"So under Yawen’s guidance, I practiced diligently for another four years. I sought recognition from Yawen again, only to be rebuked and sent back. This cycle repeated twice, until in my forty-second year... Yawen finally replied to my letter.
"—He said, ’It’s starting to resemble sothing decent, try to see if you can sell the painting.’
"I was moved to tears."
Nigel Elliott spoke with profound emotions, his voice low and hoarse, "So, after twenty years away from the world of painting... I made my coback.
"My goal this ti was simple. I wanted to beco the painter who earns the most money first, to repay Paper Princess for her financial support with interest. Then I planned to imitate Paper Princess and travel the world, recording everything I saw with my paintings... Lastly, I will give up all my wealth to serve art for life in Dennisiowa.
"Now, I have accomplished the first goal. After eting Paper Princess, I gave her my house in the Royal Capital, all my savings, and cash as a token of gratitude... After all, I am no longer in need of money today. Because even a casual painting of mine can at least sustain my livelihood.
"Next, I will travel the world. The first stop is the Frost Fort in the province of Saint Felix. I want to see for myself the chilling wind that’s said to be able to cut flesh; I want to see if throwing water in the Frost Fort really turns to ice.
"I also want to see what the Frost Beast looks like, and whether the world I’ll see will differ after all my positive emotions have been drained away."
Annan could see the light shining in Nigel’s eyes.
It was a glow similar to the one in his own eyes.
Now, he could truly be called a real painter.
"...The Duchy of Winter is quite dangerous,"
Annan warned softly.
Nigel smiled faintly, "I won’t die. My life is still precious. When I’m about to die of old age, I will support a few poor students who are passionate about painting and pass on everything I’ve learned—
"—to carry forward the kindness and hope for dreams that Paper Princess once gave to ."
His gaze towards Annan... in those eyes that saw past Annan to Paper Princess, there was not a trace of romantic love between a man and a woman.
But rather a shining aspiration.
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