Qiao Jin's painting was titled *Light*.
Light, the antithesis of black.
It also featured a slender figure. This figure stood with boundless darkness behind it.
The figure's face was fully visible in the frame, tilted slightly upward, gazing forward.
And before it, there was light.
The most masterful part of the entire painting was its use of color for the light. The natural, blended transitions felt warm and unobtrusive. The progression of just a few colors created a sense of intimacy, making one involuntarily want to draw closer, to possess it, to bathe in its glow.
The expression on the figure's face was also perfect. It wasn't quite a smile; there seemed to be a hint of shock and disbelief, yet it was undeniably blissful.
It was like seeing a mirage from a dream, but a real, tangible one—not something that couldn't be touched or reached.
'So the world isn't entirely black after all. There's actually light. And this light... it's so beautiful, so warm.'
