Chapter 396: Painting
A paintbrush grazed the drawing board gently as Charles drew the docked ships at the docks. Hope Island's exports and imports had stopped, with supplies being stocked up in the warehouses in preparation for the arrival of the Divine Light Order's fleet. In other words, Charles had nothing to do these days, so he decided to go to the harbor area and draw the docked ships.
"May I ask where you learned to paint, fellow painter? I've never seen that style of painting before, and I've visited quite a few islands myself," an elderly voice asked from behind Charles.
Charles turned and saw an old man missing a front tooth.
"Oh, it's you! You've asked me to draw you and your wife, so I'm surprised to know that you're a painter as well," the old painter said, sounding like he was close to Charles.
Charles instantly remembered the old painter. Indeed, the old painter had drawn a painting of Lily and him. Charles revealed a forced smile and said, "I haven't really learned how to draw, but I paint only as a hobby, so it's fine."
"Oh, is that so? Then, let me teach you how to draw. Your style is pretty unique, but there are a few issues with it. Don't worry; I was once a professor of the Albion Isles' University of Arts."
Charles pondered briefly over something while staring at the veteran old painter before him. Eventually, he agreed to the old painter's offer. Although he had been using painting to relieve stress, there was no harm for him to grasp an opportunity that would allow him to become a better painter.
The old painter's demeanor and tone of voice changed instantly the moment he started teaching Charles, and the sudden change made Charles feel as though he was staring at a completely different person from the amiable old man earlier.
"The colors here are too intense, and the strokes are too ambiguous. Why do you have so many ambiguous areas? No, no, no, this can't be fixed. Tear this canvas and do it again!"
The old painter was strict, but Charles could feel that the other party was qualified enough to judge his painting.
Charles' painting skills improved drastically after every failed draft. Charles' extraordinary hand-eye coordination allowed him to surpass the majority of ordinary painters relying on painting to make a living.
"Hm, this one looks much better," the old painter remarked, nodding in satisfaction while staring at the painting on the drawing board. Then, he cast an astonished gaze upon Charles, "Your talent for painting is pretty high."
Charles was about to express his humble gratitude, but the old painter's expression darkened, saying, "What use is talent these days? It's getting harder and harder for us painters to make a living."
Charles was astonished to hear that, and he couldn't help but ask, "Why do you say so, sir? You're an excellent painter, so you should be having no issues making a living anywhere you wish."
The old painter frowned and shook his head. "It's useless. The photo studios have taken too many customers from us. Photos used to be black and white, so we still have an edge, as we can draw with colors.
"However, we've completely lost our livelihood since that research institute of the Governor's Mansion developed a brand-new photosensitive material capable of taking colored photos along with cameras."
Despite being the Governor, Charles was surprised by the news as well, as it was his first time hearing it.
"I mean, think about it. By the time we had drawn something on the canvas, the photo studio would have already taken a hundred colored photos. With that in mind, do you really think that we can compete with them?" the old painter asked.
Charles' gaze landed on the blue piece of paper sticking out of the old painter's chest pocketthe blue piece of paper was none other than a ship ticket, and the sight astonished Charles.
"Are you going to leave the island?" Charles asked.
"Yeah, this island is developing at breakneck speed; I can't keep up with it. Look," the old painter replied before pointing in the distance.
Charles followed the old painter's finger and saw a factory in the distance. Beyond yellow walls and black tiles were towering chimneys piercing the canopy overhead.
"I've seen those things on Albion Isles, and I'm sure that it's only a matter of time before this island develops a variety of new items. The lives of the people here will soon change drastically as well," the old painter remarked.
So the industrial revolution is about to begin Charles thought as he observed the distant factory. He hadn't spent a long time outside the island, so he was truly surprised to discover the rapid pace of Hope Island's development.
"Isn't 'change' a good thing?" Charles asked.
"It's a good thing, of course. Development is always better than regression. A great example of that is the cameras. They're better at painting than painters themselves.
"Unfortunately, I'm too old to change, and I'd rather die than change," the old painter said as he stroked the drawing board on his back with traces of melancholy on his face. "It will take some time before the new technology from Hope Island gets spread to other islands. So I would still have some time to make a living in other places."
Charles glanced at the old painter's frayed cuffs and patched trousers before saying, "Sir, you mentioned that you were once a professor of the Albion Isles' University of Arts, right?"
"Yes, but that was a long time ago. Governor Swann wanted the citizens of Albion Isles to grow fond of the powerful steam and machinery rather than art, so he stole the University of Arts from us and transformed it into the University of Steam Engineering.
"I still remember taking my students with me to protest at the Governor's Mansion at the time."
The old painter smiled bitterly before continuing, "Everything is gone now; the entire island is gone, and the Governor is gone. I guess it's also only a matter of time before I go as well."
When the old painter's words fell, he turned around and started walking toward the pier. For some reason, the old painter's back seemed lonesome in Charles' eyes.
"I heard that Hope Island's academy is expanding, and they're apparently looking for an experienced teacher of arts. I think you should try it out," Charles suddenly said.
The old painter came to a halt and looked back with confusion evident on his wizened face. "Really? I've been there before, but I heard they had no subjects related to arts."
"You should go there and take another look. Perhaps they have subjects related to arts by now," Charles replied.
The old painter looked dubious. He had already bought his ticket, but Charles looked so confident that he didn't appear to be lying at all.
Just then, the crisp ringing of a bicycle bell echoed nearby. The old painter and Charles turned to find a mail carrier clad in a green uniform staring at them.
Charles instantly recognized the mail carrier, as he was none other than his First Mate Bandages.
"What's up with that get-up?" Charles asked.
"Mother wants me to deliver letters, so I deliver letters," Bandages muttered.
Charles noticed something odd just then. He stepped forward, rubbed Bandages' face, and was astonished to find that Bandages wasn't wearing any foundation.
"Those tattoos are gone? How did you remove them?" Charles asked in great surprise.
"Simple I just peeled off my face" Bandages replied.
Charles nodded in approval and remarked, "Indeed, your healing ability is incredibly strong, so that is indeed a great method. Anyway, did you memorize the tattooed texts before you threw it away?"
"I found someone to tan the skin I decided to keep it," Bandages replied before taking out his old face and presenting it to Charles.
Charles examined the skin and was pleasantly surprised. "They did an excellent job."
"Yes, he's a great tanner he's great at tanning shark skin"
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