"Just because we can't make it to nationals doesn't mean there's nothing to do this summer," was Dubian Che's response.

The Kantou competition was on August 25th, and school started right after it ended and we'd collected our crushed spirits.

"We'll definitely advance!"

A few days later, Little Lian's parents received a letter and made a phone call.

That afternoon, Little Lian stuffed more photos into a red mailbox.

The next day, the Koshien tournament also began.

Little Lian ran out to play;

the two Mrs. were invited over to another villa to visit, where another Mrs. had mentioned about serving them delicious red wine;

Kiyono Lin was reading on the terrace;

Dubian Che and Jiutiao Meijie were together, sitting on the sofa watching the opening ceremony.

The crowd was roaring, and the rippling heat of the air, nearly every spectator in the camera's view, was wearing sun hats, sun umbrellas, and other sun protection gear.

The players entering the field were almost blinded by the sun.

It was an extremely scorching summer.

When Goda appeared, following behind the girl holding the crow school emblem sign was Uchida, who had suffered from heatstroke during the regional finals, followed by some twenty or thirty others including Kunii Shuichi.

Their baseball uniforms and hats were all emblazoned with the crow school emblem, looking quite distinctive.

As soon as the camera moved away from Goda, Dubian Che turned off the television.

"What shall we do now?" he asked, his hand on Jiutiao Meijie's skirt.

Jiutiao Meijie swatted his hand away, "Go get the canvas outside, Miss Jiutiao will continue teaching you how to paint."

"Yes, Teacher Meijie," Dubian Che stood up.

"With a real teacher here, there's no need to play teacher and student, right?" Jiutiao Meijie said sarcastically.

"You're not my sister either."

"That's right, and I have a ready-made sister."

"You will always be my sister."

The studio had been used a few days earlier, and it was still full of the smell of paints.

There was a floor-to-ceiling window inside, with a view of the beautiful natural scenery outside.

On this bright morning, the thin layer of light reflecting off the room's decor in the sunlight passing through the floor-to-ceiling windows was enchanting.

Looking at all this, Dubian Che always felt as if there was a phonograph from the past hidden beneath some white cloth.

Jiutiao Meijie came in and helped carry paints, paintbrushes, palette knives, and various other small tools.

Dubian Che carried the easel, stools, sun umbrella, and the larger or heavier tools like the brush-washing bucket.

Together, they painted Kiyono Lin who was reading on the terrace.

Kiyono Lin only glanced at them once—at the beginning when they were setting up the easel—and ignored them the rest of the time.

The wind in Karuizawa at nine o'clock was cool and pleasant, sitting on the stool, basking in the warm sunlight.

The gentle sunlight streaked through the gaps in the leaves and softly touched the canvas and Kiyono Lin's arms.

No matter how tumultuous the world outside was, with its ardor, passion, failure, sweat—be it wind music or Koshien—they remained as always: simple, natural, and happy.

The heat of Tokyo and Hyogo Prefecture couldn't reach the plateau of Karuizawa.

Near noon, the two Mrs. came back with wine, and both had nearly finished painting.

"Meijie's painting could be exhibited in a museum," Mrs. Jiutiao praised.

"Of course," Mrs. Kiyono chimed in with a pride that was somewhat unjustified, considering her daughter was the one on the terrace.

"Let me have a look at Mr. Dubian's," Mrs. Jiutiao said, then burst out laughing.

"Mr. Dubian," she said, trying to control her breathing, "have you shown this painting to Lin?"

"I'm an abstract artist; I don't focus on appearances," Dubian Che replied, swishing his paintbrush in the bucket as if seasoning a barbecue.

"What interior qualities do you see in Meijie?" Mrs. Jiutiao asked again.

"Meijie is an exception; I adore her unrivaled beauty," Dubian Che said, tapping his brush on the bucket as if draining water from a mop.

"How you always have an answer," Jiutiao Meijie quipped as she finished the final touches on her painting.

She stood up, stretching her graceful body from sitting too long.

Dubian Che picked up the brush and wrote in the lower right corner of her painting:

"Dubian Che painted in Karuizawa, while cicadas made incessant noise, seemingly foretelling a forest fire."

Content, he turned his head and asked the two Mrs. and Jiutiao Meijie, "What do you think?"

Before the three could react, he added thoughtfully, "Oh, right, there's this too."

He then wrote in the lower right corner of the "abstract" painting:

"Painted by Jiutiao Meijie in Karuizawa, while the husband is seventeen and I am sixteen, the weather is warm and the cicadas' cry is clear."

"I'm satisfied," Dubian Che said, at ease.

"So that's who you are," Jiutiao Meijie nodded.

"A smart person?" Dubian Che asked.

"A phony," Jiutiao Meijie retorted.

"A vain person," Mrs. Jiutiao added.

Dubian Che looked toward Mrs. Kiyono, waiting for her critique.

Caught off guard by his gaze, Mrs. Kiyono placed a finger to her chin, pondering before she ventured, "Someone who likes to be scolded?"

"...Please respect the facts, and don't talk nonsense."

Dubian Che admired "his painting," unable to help nodding as he said:

"The only person in the world that could capture the lofty, fresh, and natural elegance of Kiyono Lin in its entirety is me."

"There are plenty of art museums in Karuizawa. I'll take you to see them tomorrow so you don't embarrass the Jiutiao family," Mrs. Jiutiao, clearly unable to bear her son-in-law any longer, said.

She took Dubian Che by the right hand and stuffed the grape wine into his palm.

"We can go in the afternoon," Dubian Che suggested.

"I'll take you horseback riding this afternoon," Mrs. Kiyono said, passing her bottle to him as well.

"This isn't grape wine?" Dubian Che examined the bottle in his left hand, which Mrs. Kiyono had given him.

"Brandy," Mrs. Kiyono replied with a contented and relaxed tone, "Calvados apple brandy. It has a nice taste, suitable for women to drink."

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