The Art of Teasing - Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Fan Feng could tell from Ye Ling's reaction that her family hadn't told her. It wasn't his place to say more, so he only offered vaguely, "That woman is no good."
Wen Zhengyu nodded slightly in agreement and said, "I've seen that." From Fan Feng's attitude, she sensed something was off with Ye Ling and asked, "Is something going on with Ye Ling?" But then she reconsidered—what business was it of hers if something was going on with Ye Ling? Even if Ye Ling had a trap, her paintings and her family's house had all been sold to Ye Ling. The transaction was complete, and they'd probably never cross paths again.
Fan Feng didn't elaborate, only reiterating: "If you ever deal with her, be careful."
Wen Zhengyu surmised Ye Ling's reputation was probably not very good. At least based on her own dealings with Ye Ling, she never wanted to see Ye Ling again, never wanted another collaboration.
After seeing Fan Feng off, she carefully reviewed both contracts he had brought.
As fellow disciples under the same master, Fan Feng would naturally look out for her somewhat, but that inevitably led to entanglements of personal obligation. In this world, monetary debts are easy to repay. Even if you owe a fortune, there's always a concrete figure, and at worst you can add interest and repay it slowly. There will always be a day it's paid off. But debts of gratitude are often difficult even to measure. She painted for interest, for spiritual sustenance; her focus was on private collection and personal appreciation. Her senior brother painted for fame and profit, following a commercial path. It wasn't about one being nobler or better than the other. Differing goals lead to different paths, and forcing them together easily breeds conflict. She didn't want disagreements like these to someday ruin the bond between fellow disciples.
Wen Zhengyu then felt somewhat conflicted and hesitant. Before, she hadn't lacked money and didn't need to sell paintings to live, so she could keep her works for her own enjoyment. Now, her personal savings weren't even enough to buy a basic car, let alone pay Uncle Zhan Cheng and Aunt Sun Yuan's wages. Her second aunt was good to her, willing to help her and support her, but if she let her second aunt support her indefinitely, even she would look down on herself.
If she wanted to support her family, she first had to learn to earn money. The only thing she was truly skilled at was painting, and then there were the musical instruments her grandmother had taught her. Among the instruments, she had learned the guzheng fairly well, but if she tried to make a living teaching the guzheng, the income probably wouldn't even cover Uncle Zhan Cheng's salary as a full-time bodyguard and driver.
If she wanted to earn money by painting, she had to sell her paintings. For paintings to sell at high prices, commercial maneuvering and promotion were unavoidable. As the artist, she would have to go out and deal with all sorts of people, attend social engagements. Setting aside whether she might encounter difficult people during these interactions, if she was busy socializing, how would she still have time to paint?
She understood very clearly that returning to a state where she could single-mindedly immerse herself in painting while ignoring life's mundane matters was impossible. But between painting and living, she needed to find a suitable balance.
This balance, she had not yet figured out.
Over the next month or so, she received a continuous stream of invitations and contracts. Besides her grandfather's old friends, her master, and her senior brothers and sisters wanting to help, there were also those who wanted to recruit her for hype marketing, and some who felt that now that her family had fallen and she was down on her luck, there was an opportunity to exploit, leading to improper intentions, using invitations to paint as a cover for something else entirely.
A plucked phoenix is less than a chicken.
All these situations, she had already witnessed during that period of selling off family assets and the mansion. She was not surprised.
What did surprise Wen Zhengyu was that Ye Ling, whom she thought she'd never interact with again, actually sent someone to deliver a formal visiting card.
When Wen Zhengyu heard Sun Yuan say Ye Ling had sent someone with a visiting card, she froze for several seconds.
Nowadays, visits are arranged by phone first, a time is agreed upon, and then one comes over. Who still sends a formal visiting card?
Stunned, she took the card Sun Yuan handed her and opened it. The first thing she saw was beautiful, neat handwritten fountain pen script, hard-tipped calligraphy, in standard script. From the handwriting, the downward strokes and the right-falling strokes were drawn a little long and with a subtle upward flourish, revealing a certain confident elegance, but when the strokes turned at corners, the angles were distinct, and the force of the brush penetrated the paper, showing full sinew and bone, conveying a sense of resolute strength.
Seeing the handwriting reveals the person.
The moment Wen Zhengyu saw Ye Ling's handwriting, she recalled that image of someone refusing to leave her house, drinking tea cup after cup, determined to wear her down until she agreed to sell the paintings. A person like that—after dealing with them once, she had no desire to deal with them a second time. Her phone still stored Ye Ling's number. Her business with Ye Ling was fully settled, money and goods exchanged. If Ye Ling called her, she absolutely would not answer.
But now the visiting card had been delivered right to her door, and the messenger had left. She couldn't just throw it away without a glance.
After reading the visiting card, Wen Zhengyu regretted not throwing it away immediately.
The visiting card read:
Zhengyu
Greetings.
I wish to discuss an urgent matter and request a moment of your valuable time. I will call at your residence tomorrow during the Shen hour.
Ye Ling bows.
Wen Zhengyu stared at the visiting card for several seconds before resisting the urge to toss it in the trash, instead casually leaving it on the table. She had never seen such a person! Arranging a meeting without calling first, not arranging to meet outside, just directly sending a card informing her to wait at home.
The Shen hour, two hours per time period, three to five PM is the Shen hour.
Translated, it meant: "Wen Zhengyu, I, Ye Ling, have business with you. You wait at home tomorrow afternoon between three and five for me to come over."
Wen Zhengyu felt that if her self-restraint were weaker, and if Ye Ling were right in front of her, and she mustered a bit more courage and psyching herself up, perhaps she might just slap this visiting card right onto Ye Ling's face.
She imagined slapping the visiting card onto Ye Ling's face but then thought it wasn't really appropriate. Besides, the other party had delivered a visiting card, and she had no plans to go out tomorrow—Wen Zhengyu sighed inwardly and thought, "Waiting it is then." She wanted to see what Ye Ling intended to do.
May in Jiangnan was just the pleasant season when tender branches stretched out. The roses in the corner of the courtyard were in full bloom, the flowering branches climbing over the wall, covered in blossoms. The brilliant purple and red flowers contrasted with the verdant leaves, lush and green. Bright sunlight spread across the courtyard, penetrating the branches and leaves on the wall, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow.
Wen Zhengyu brewed a pot of light tea, set out a rocking chair, and lay in the courtyard, gazing at the clear, transparent blue sky overhead, watching the leisurely white clouds shift with the wind. Birds occasionally skimmed across the vast sky, their carefree silhouettes soaring freely, a picture of ease roaming across heaven and earth.
As the birds skimmed past, as the clouds drifted, her thoughts scattered and spread.
"In the Northern Darkness there is a fish; its name is Kun. The size of Kun is unknown, stretching thousands of li; it transforms into a bird, its name is Peng. The back of Peng spans thousands of li; when it takes flight in fury, its wings are like clouds hanging from the sky. This bird, when the ocean currents shift, will migrate to the Southern Darkness..."
Wen Zhengyu was pondering whether to paint a Kun-Peng scene with the firmament, the southern sky, and the great sea as the backdrop, when the brass ring on the front gate was knocked. The heavy knocking sound pulled her thoughts back.
Sun Yuan went to open the door.
The residence was small, lacking even a spirit screen. When the door opened, those inside the courtyard could see the situation outside, and those outside could likewise see the people in the courtyard.
The door opened, and Wen Zhengyu saw Ye Ling appear at the doorway with two attendants.
One of Ye Ling's attendants was speaking with Sun Yuan, explaining their purpose.
She looked towards Ye Ling, and Ye Ling also looked towards her, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly as she nodded and smiled at her.
Wen Zhengyu really wanted to go back inside and check the time. The appointment was for three to five, and here she was, arriving just after lunch? Had she eaten lunch?
A visitor was a guest, and she had sent word ahead with a visiting card, so she couldn't very well refuse to see her. So Wen Zhengyu stood up and told Sun Yuan to invite them in.
Ye Ling was wearing a black suit, cropped trousers, and high heels about seven or eight centimeters tall. Her suit sleeves were half-rolled up, giving her a very capable and sharp appearance, looking as if she had just stepped out of an office building.
Seeing Ye Ling in such neat attire, clearly here on business, Wen Zhengyu couldn't very well be casual and laid-back, inviting them for tea and idle chat in the courtyard. She invited them into the living room.
After entering the living room, she glanced casually at the old-fashioned grandfather clock in the room. The time had just passed three o'clock exactly. She couldn't help but suspect Ye Ling had timed her arrival precisely to the minute. Subconsciously, she glanced at Ye Ling and saw Ye Ling's gaze sweeping across her living room. She followed Ye Ling's gaze and scanned her own living room.
Although the courtyard was small, the living room was quite spacious. Usually, old residences suffer from insufficient lighting, but glass was cheap now. Replacing a small portion of the roof's grey tiles with transparent glass tiles allowed ample sunlight to pour down from the roof. Opening the eight-panel wooden doors fully made the entire living room immediately bright and airy.
The living room's arrangement was very simple: a set of Chinese-style rosewood furniture for receiving guests, a few potted plants growing vigorously, several paintings personally done by Elder Wen hanging on the walls, and a few not-too-valuable Qing dynasty ornaments. That was enough to decorate it passably.
Wen Zhengyu's gaze shifted from the living room back to Ye Ling and realized Ye Ling's gaze was fixed on her, as if something about her was amiss? She then looked at her own attire. At home, idle, she naturally dressed for comfort. A loose, light-colored silk shirt paired with equally loose silk trousers, and flat soft indoor shoes. That didn't seem inappropriate, did it? She looked towards Ye Ling again, her gaze shifting from the professional attire on Ye Ling to her own leisure wear. Compared like this, it did seem a bit odd.
Wen Zhengyu thought, "Odd it may be, but I'm at home; I'll wear whatever I want." She graciously invited Ye Ling to sit. After Sun Yuan served tea, seeing that Ye Ling wasn't discussing business but leisurely sipping her tea with lowered eyes, and given Ye Ling's attire didn't look like she came just for tea, Wen Zhengyu asked, "What urgent matter brings Miss Ye here this time?"
Ye Ling unhurriedly drank her tea, then took a brocade box about half a meter long from the attendant beside her.
The brocade box was made of red sandalwood, carved with a relief of verdant pines, appearing quite exquisite.
Ye Ling opened the brocade box and took out a rolled-up piece of painting paper.
The paper had not been mounted or fitted with a scroll roller. There were traces of ink and color soaking into the paper, indicating someone had already painted on it.
Wen Zhengyu took the painting Ye Ling handed over and unrolled it. It was a painting only half completed. In the painting, a brilliantly colored phoenix soared upward, wings spread to strike the heavens. Its head was held high, its eyes sharp, and a killing aura of facing death with no thought of retreat emanated from the paper. In the sky, the roiling dark clouds and lightning were only half-drawn; the mountain peaks and ranges below had not yet been started...
This was the half-finished 《Phoenix Battles the Heavens》 she had left behind in the Painting Hall.
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