Singlehood Syndrome

In the afternoon on a workday, there weren’t many students in the art studio, and today was especially quiet with only two students present.

Both of them were girls. One was a university student from a nearby college who had been learning from Xiang Mo for some time now. The other was a new student experiencing drawing for the first time, saying that she had been interested in drawing since childhood.

The college student enrolled in an anime sketching course, and she already had some foundation, so it wasn’t too difficult to guide her. But the new student was a complete beginner in sketching, so Xiang Mo had to start from the basics, such as explaining the types of pencils.

Soft background music flowed through the art studio, and the dappled sunlight streamed through the wutong tree leaves, casting a serene atmosphere. Accompanied by the cheerful chirping of birds, it created a peaceful ambiance in the old western-style house.

In truth, many of Xiang Mo’s students didn’t need to take formal courses, but finding a place to relax and draw in the bustling city wasn’t easy. Therefore, many students considered Xiang Mo’s studio a haven for relaxation, and the process of drawing was a way to cultivate their minds and spirits.

“When the ‘H’ value is higher, it means the pencil lead is harder,” Xiang Mo explained as he gently drew a straight line on the paper. Then, he handed the pencil to the student and asked her to try it herself.

Following Xiang Mo’s instruction on how to hold the pencil, the student tried to draw a line on the paper. However, the line that appeared was thick at the beginning and light at the end, clearly not straight.

“It’s quite difficult,” the student said, attempting to draw two more lines, but they still lacked the graceful beauty of the straight lines Xiang Mo had drawn.

“Lines are fundamental; you need to practice more,” Xiang Mo said. “Sketching can be discouraging because it’s not easy to get the hang of it.”

“I’m mentally prepared,” the student said with determination. “Since I’ve made up my mind to learn drawing, I won’t give up easily.”

The adult students in the art studio were different from those in training institutions. Most of them were driven by their interests rather than purely for exam preparation. Teaching such students was easier since they were self-aware and motivated.

“You practice lines first, and later I’ll teach you perspective,” Xiang Mo said, but just then, footsteps from upstairs interrupted their conversation.

Dressed for going out and carrying a canvas bag, Du Chi came downstairs. It seemed he had something to do outside.

Their eyes met, and Xiang Mo casually greeted, “Heading out?”

Without stopping his steps, Du Chi replied, “Going to a used bookstore.”

With such simple words, their rhythms of work were not affected by each other. Xiang Mo continued to attend to another student who was drawing an anime character, while Du Chi started his heavy motorcycle in the courtyard.

Neighborhood relationships were like this—greetings exchanged, and then they didn’t affect each other further.

But what Xiang Mo didn’t expect was that such a simple act could also be interpreted differently.

As the roar of the heavy motorcycle faded into the distance, the student with a bun hairstyle turned her gaze back from the window, chuckling as she asked Xiang Mo, “Teacher Xiang, is he your new boyfriend?”

“New boyfriend?” The new student who was sketching abruptly turned her head, and her ponytail swung to the side with her movement.

There was a WeChat group for communication among the art studio members. Ever since Du Chi became known to the students as a new model, they had already assumed he was Xiang Mo’s boyfriend in this group.

Xiang Mo had denied it before, but it was futile. He had to deny it again, “No, I’m here to help you with your drawing.”

The student with the bun hairstyle giggled a couple of times but didn’t continue the topic. However, the curiosity in her ponytail eyes was evident—gossip, as they called it.

If everyone in the art studio were familiar students, Xiang Mo wouldn’t mind their playful banter. However, since the ponytail girl was a first-time visitor, he didn’t want people to think that the studio had an unprofessional atmosphere.

As he put his phone aside, it suddenly vibrated twice. Xiang Mo picked it up and saw two new messages in the quiet art studio group.

【I saw Teacher Xiang’s boyfriend!】

【He’s super handsome!】

Below were three to five people chiming in their agreement. Xiang Mo looked at the ponytail girl helplessly, and she stuck her tongue out playfully.

Not wanting to explain further, Xiang Mo put away his phone and returned to the ponytail girl’s side, teaching her about the principles of perspective.

Not every student who came to the studio for an experience would enroll in formal courses. After all, the several-thousand-yuan tuition fee wasn’t cheap. Xiang Mo wasn’t good at using persuasive language for sales, so he could only earnestly teach each class. As for whether the students eventually enrolled, it all depended on fate.

After a while, the sound of a revving engine approached from outside the courtyard gate.

The previously attentive ponytail girl immediately looked toward the window, her eyes filled with that familiar thirst for knowledge.

Du Chi came back inside, carrying his canvas bag. He seemed to be startled by the gaze of the two students and unconsciously slowed his pace. He looked at Xiang Mo and asked, “Is there something on my face?”

“Nothing,” Xiang Mo said, feeling a headache coming on. “You came back so soon?”

He should have stayed outside a little longer.
“Found a few books.” Fortunately, Du Chi didn’t show any intention of lingering in the art studio. He glanced inexplicably at the two students and then went upstairs.

The wooden staircase made its usual faint creaking sound.

After Du Chi’s figure disappeared in the corridor, the girl with the bun hairstyle eagerly popped her head out from behind the easel and asked Xiang Mo, “Teacher Xiang, what does your boyfriend do for work?”

The continuous creaking sound from upstairs suddenly stopped. Xiang Mo knew this old western-style house well enough to know that Du Chi must have heard that question while going upstairs.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Xiang Mo unconsciously raised his voice slightly, fearing that Du Chi would misunderstand that the students thought of him that way.

“Hehe, my mistake. I meant male friend,” the girl with the bun hairstyle quickly corrected herself. “So, what does the handsome guy upstairs do for a living?”

Xiang Mo suddenly felt that he spoiled these students too much. Once they became familiar, not one of them treated him as a teacher—they were even more casual than treating a next-door neighbor.

“I’m not sure,” Xiang Mo chose to evade. “Focus on your drawing.”

He thought the remaining time would pass calmly, but not long after, the sound of footsteps from upstairs could be heard again. Du Chi came downstairs lazily, wearing flip-flops, and asked Xiang Mo, “I’m going to get a package. Do you want me to pick it up for you?”

The rent for the old western-style house was expensive, and there was no nearby parcel station, so picking up packages had to be done outside the area.

Xiang Mo indeed had an uncollected package. Before, he and Du Chi never helped each other with picking up packages, but since they started sharing meals together a couple of days ago, many things had become natural.

Helping with garbage disposal, carrying things for each other—though Xiang Mo was used to living a single life, he had to admit that having two people together did save a lot of effort.

“Thank you,” Xiang Mo said. “I’ll send you the pickup code.”

He took a screenshot of the SMS on his phone and sent it to Du Chi through WeChat. When he lifted his gaze from the screen, he noticed the bun-haired girl and the girl with the ponytail were exchanging glances, their eyes filled with excitement at finding a fellow gossip companion.

“Focus on your drawing,” Xiang Mo said helplessly.

Earlier, he thought adult students in the art studio were easier to teach, but now it seemed that wasn’t the case. He had to remain focused.

In less than ten minutes, Du Chi returned to the studio with two packages.

As before, after putting down the packages, he went upstairs without lingering.

Seeing the eager desire to communicate in the eyes of the two students, Xiang Mo had no choice but to sit down next to the girl with the ponytail and let her focus on her drawing. Although this was a free trial class, it was still a class, and they should take it seriously.

Under Xiang Mo’s watchful eye, the art studio gradually quieted down. However, not long after, footsteps could be heard in the corridor again.

The girl with the bun hairstyle and the girl with the ponytail gave each other a knowing look and simultaneously turned their heads to look at the stairs. For the third time in a few hours, Du Chi descended from upstairs.

Xiang Mo looked at Du Chi helplessly. His eyes seemed to complain: Can’t you stop interrupting my class?

Du Chi looked somewhat innocent as well and asked, “What do you want for dinner? I’m going grocery shopping.”

Xiang Mo felt a shiver running down his spine.

Alright, there was no way to clear this up anymore. He gave up resisting, “Minced pork with eggplant.”

“Didn’t we have that yesterday?” Du Chi remarked.

Xiang Mo hadn’t forgotten, of course. He was already too lazy to consider the two students’ feelings and simply said, “You cooked it well.”

The gasp from the two girls was even louder this time.

As Du Chi left, the girl with the bun hairstyle couldn’t wait to ask, “Xiang Teacher, isn’t he your boyfriend?”

The girl with the ponytail nodded in agreement, “Yeah, that’s right.”

Xiang Mo was about to brush it off casually, but at that moment, his phone suddenly vibrated. Glancing at the screen, it was a message from Tan Song.

【Tan Song: Mo Mo, I miss you】

Since that day, Xiang Mo hadn’t contacted Tan Song, but he didn’t expect Tan Song, who left so coolly, to come back to him now.

He wouldn’t reply to the message, of course, and removing him as a friend seemed a bit heartless.

Distracted by thoughts of Tan Song, the two students were still waiting for his answer. Xiang Mo decided to end it with a random response, “He’s not my boyfriend; he’s my husband. Can you focus on your drawing now?”

Once the words were out, both students fell strangely silent.

Xiang Mo put away his phone and looked up, only to find the two girls staring behind him. He turned his head instinctively and saw Du Chi standing at the entrance to the art studio.

“Forgot my phone,” Du Chi explained, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Husband.”

Xiang Mo: “…”

As a grown man, how could he forget to take his phone when going out?

Du Chi went upstairs again, and the emotions in the eyes of the two students were incomprehensible to Xiang Mo.

Like any teacher intentionally looking for trouble, Xiang Mo walked over to the girl with the bun hairstyle’s easel and scolded, “You’ve been drawing for so long, and the figures still haven’t taken shape?”

Originally, he was just teasing, but suddenly Xiang Mo sensed that something was off. With the girl’s skill level, she shouldn’t be taking so long to draw.

His gaze fell on the tape at the corners of the drawing paper, and he narrowed his eyes. The girl seemed to have realized that her secret was about to be exposed and quickly tried to stick the tape firmly to the drawing board, but Xiang Mo had already taken the drawing paper away from her.

When he turned it over, just as he expected, the girl had drawn two men embracing each other on the back of the paper, and judging from their clothing, it was indeed him and Du Chi.

At that moment, Du Chi happened to come downstairs, holding his phone. He curiously walked over to Xiang Mo’s side, looked at the drawing with some amusement, and asked the girl with the bun hairstyle, “Did you draw this?”

The girl nodded and asked, “How is it?”

Du Chi tilted his head, mimicking the pose in the drawing, walked behind Xiang Mo, and hugged his waist, with his lips close to his ear, he said, “Like this?”

Caught off guard, Xiang Mo was hugged and had no idea Du Chi would play along like this. He turned his head stiffly and asked, “What are you doing?”

Du Chi chuckled, “Hugging my wife.”

Xiang Mo felt like slapping himself. He shouldn’t have said Du Chi was his husband just now.

No matter how annoyed he felt inside, he couldn’t show it in front of the students. Xiang Mo pushed away Du Chi’s arms, put on a serious face, and was about to give the girl a lecture when, at that moment, the girl with the ponytail squeezed to the front excitedly and said, “Teacher, can I reach this level too? I want to take your class!”

The lecture on his lips was swallowed back again.

He returned the drawing to his diligent student and said lightly, “You drew it very well. But you’re not allowed to draw like this again next time.”

Xiang Mo: “The higher the H value, the harder the pencil lead.”

Du Chi: “So the higher the H, the harder it gets? Understood.”