The Art of Teasing - Chapter 11

Chapter 11

After two days of consideration, Old Master Mu signed the formal contract with Wen Zhengyu and Wen Li.

With the contract signed, Wen Zhengyu threw herself into the registration and business licensing procedures. She named the studio "Kunlun Art Studio," went to the Administration for Industry and Commerce to fill out name verification forms, secured the studio's name, then arranged to meet Old Master Mu and Wen Li at the bank to open a company capital verification account and deposit the registered capital. Then came the capital verification report, submitting establishment documents to the commerce bureau, obtaining the business license, engraving official seals, securing the organization code certificate, completing tax registration, opening a tax account, applying for invoice books — the entire chain of procedures, though exhausting and burdensome, was also an experience she had never encountered in her more than twenty years of life.

Before, whenever she went out, it was always in a private car with a chauffeur accompanying her. Now her car was sold, and her grandfather needed his car every day, so she contacted a private driver who ran a chauffeur service. The driver's car was a black Audi A6 at about eighty percent new condition — he mainly handled corporate transport or chauffeuring for small business owners, had a good reputation, and was reasonably reliable. She would contact him whenever she needed a car. Although the price was much higher than a taxi, it was convenient, and she didn't need to maintain a driver or a vehicle herself — all things considered, it was quite cost-effective. The car model was passable too; riding in it to business meetings looked far better than arriving in a taxi.

Ever since signing the contract with Wen Li and Old Master Mu, she had been unimaginably busy. Opening an art studio and running a business was far more complicated than she'd imagined. First, she had to check on the studio renovations from time to time, promptly requesting modifications wherever she found anything unsatisfactory — that was the storefront, and no carelessness could be tolerated. Preparations for the opening had to be made. With only herself to handle everything, there was simply no way she could manage it all; the opening ceremony had to be entrusted to an event planning company, requiring her to contact and negotiate with them. Then there was operations, promotion, and publicity. It was already the internet age — online and offline promotion and advertising were both essential: ad placements and publicity on major online media platforms and forums, offline billboards and ad space placements, studio staff recruitment, and so on. Though none of these were particularly troublesome matters, each one required individual negotiation — all terribly tedious.

Every day, she followed the schedule she and Wen Li had drawn up together, running errands and handling business. At night, upon returning home, she would write up the day's work agenda and progress into a report and send it to Wen Li, who would review and check everything for her. Although she was both busy and exhausted, every task had been accomplished bit by bit with her own hands — she knew exactly where things stood, and with Wen Li checking her work, her anxious heart could finally settle with some measure of assurance.

Wen Zhengyu understood that this pressure came from her current inability to absorb losses — she had no capital to lose. She could only strive to do everything to the best of her ability, minimizing the possibility of losing money, and thereby reducing the pressure.

In the blink of an eye, half a month had rushed past, when she suddenly received a call from Ye Ling.

After the call connected, Ye Ling's voice came through: "My apologies. I originally said I would come to collect the painting after half a month, but something came up and delayed me. I'm only contacting you now."

Wen Zhengyu said, "It's no problem."

Ye Ling asked, "I wonder when would be convenient for you? I'd like to come and pick up the painting."

Wen Zhengyu casually flipped through her schedule and found that there was no free day at all. She asked, "Would this work for you? I'll package it properly and have a courier or a driver deliver it to you?"

Ye Ling hesitated briefly and said, "I feel it would be better to inspect it in person."

Inspect? Wen Zhengyu had never before imagined that when delivering a painting to someone else, the recipient would actually demand an inspection. First came surprise, then a tightness in her chest. She paused for two seconds to suppress that twinge of discomfort. She had thought about delivering it to Ye Ling herself, but then considered the round-trip travel time it would cost her. After thinking it over, she asked Ye Ling if she could come to her home to collect it sometime after seven or eight in the evening.

Ye Ling responded, "All right, no problem. I'll come find you later then."

Wen Zhengyu checked the time — it was almost the end of the workday, and she would need to head home soon herself, so she agreed.

The evening rush hour brought traffic congestion.

By the time Ye Ling arrived at her home, Wen Zhengyu was still stuck in traffic. She could only call Sun Yuan and ask her to welcome Ye Ling inside first and have her wait at home.

When Wen Zhengyu arrived home, it was already past seven, nearing eight. Old Master Wen had not yet returned, and only Sun Yuan was there entertaining Ye Ling.

She stepped into the living room and saw Ye Ling, who was seated beside the tea table, lift her head and look toward her. She wasn't sure if it was a trick of perception, but when Ye Ling's gaze fell upon her, the expression on Ye Ling's face seemed to "brighten" for a moment — her entire being radiated a soft luminescence.

She looked at Ye Ling again. Ye Ling had already risen to greet her, a poised smile on her face, wearing a tailored linen suit that was impeccably fitted — from head to toe, there was not a single flaw to be found, nothing out of place. She invited Ye Ling to sit, saying, "Please wait a moment. I'll go fetch the painting."

Ye Ling nodded and replied, "Very well."

Wen Zhengyu went upstairs to retrieve the painting. She noticed that when Ye Ling spoke, the gaze resting upon her held a subtly indescribable quality. That look seemed to be appraising her, yet not in a way that made one uncomfortable — it was just that her gaze lingered on her, and it felt slightly odd. She thought about it, couldn't pinpoint what was strange about it, and then cast the thought aside. She and Ye Ling wouldn't have many occasions to interact; whether Ye Ling was odd or not had little to do with her.

Because she had been painting Phoenix Falls from the Ninth Heaven, the opening piece of the series — Phoenix Battles the Heavens — had always hung in a place where she could see it whenever she looked up while working.

Ye Ling had paid the money. This painting belonged to Ye Ling now, merely stored temporarily with her.

She knew this, and yet, when she took down the already mounted painting and began rolling it along its scroll axis, her heart still clenched with a faint, aching pain.

Wen Zhengyu took a deep breath, dispersing that trace of reluctance in her heart, carefully and quickly rolled up the painting, tied it with a silk ribbon, and brought it out to Ye Ling.

Ye Ling received the painting. She first moved the items on the tea table aside, then carefully wiped the table clean before cautiously unrolling the painting.

Wen Zhengyu noticed that when Ye Ling's gaze fell upon the painting, her eyes became exceptionally deep and profound, as if her entire spirit had sunk into the artwork. Ye Ling stared at the painting without blinking, the figure of the phoenix bird reflected in her pupils — its golden body, its flames of fiery red. Ye Ling's expression and the look in her eyes gave Wen Zhengyu the illusion that she had, in a single instant, both understood and seen herself.

This sent another ripple of strangeness through Wen Zhengyu's heart, her heartbeat even skipping two beats. This feeling was particularly odd.

She poured herself a cup of tea to suppress this peculiar sensation.

By the time she had finished her cup of tea, Ye Ling was still staring at the painting. Her expression was vastly different from her earlier composed demeanor — she was focused intently on the painting, examining it in meticulous detail, as if afraid of missing any single detail within it.

Wen Zhengyu almost thought she had encountered a kindred spirit. But then, considering Ye Ling's style and temperament, she thought it more likely that Ye Ling was carefully searching for flaws, trying to find something unsatisfactory in her painting — after all, this was an "inspection." Inspecting a painting right in front of the artist, and inspecting it so meticulously — this was a first for her.

Ye Ling looked for nearly half an hour, so long that Wen Zhengyu seriously suspected Ye Ling might bore a hole through the painting or burn it with her gaze. The grandfather clock in her home struck the hour, finally pulling Ye Ling's thoughts back to reality.

Wen Zhengyu asked, "Any problems?"

Ye Ling answered reflexively, "None." After speaking, she realized the response sounded somewhat off. She looked at Wen Zhengyu and said with a smile, "This painting is excellent. I like it very much."

Wen Zhengyu felt that with Ye Ling's smile, her brows and eyes had curved into crescents — "exuberant with delight" was precisely the expression to describe it. Ye Ling was walking away with her painting, exuberant with delight, while she herself felt heartache. Wen Zhengyu very much did not want to admit it, but she couldn't deceive herself, couldn't deny it. She politely replied, "As long as you like it." Truth be told, she disliked hearing Ye Ling say "I like it very much." To her, the words "I like it very much" from Ye Ling's mouth contained a wealth of unpleasant memories. That entire room of paintings — even now, thinking about it made her heart ache. She had sold off all her paintings, and now, about to open a studio, she couldn't even produce a single one of her own works. Even if she wanted to paint another, she had no time to do so now.

Ye Ling paid the balance to Wen Zhengyu without hesitation, put the painting away, and placed it into a sandalwood brocade box.

No matter how much Wen Zhengyu tried to pretend she didn't care, she still couldn't help feeling a pang of heartache. She resolved that what the eye doesn't see, the heart doesn't grieve over, and was just about to rise and see her guest out when she saw Ye Ling pick up the teapot and pour tea, looking as though she still had matters to discuss. She looked at Ye Ling with suspicion.

Ye Ling poured a cup of tea for Wen Zhengyu and said, "I heard that Zhengyu is preparing to open an art studio?"

Wen Zhengyu nodded, saying, "That's right." Since Ye Ling had brought up the matter, she had no choice but to be courteous and add, "I hope Miss Ye will do us the honor of attending the opening."

Ye Ling said, "That goes without saying." She continued, "May I speak candidly and directly?"

Wen Zhengyu felt a slight headache upon hearing Ye Ling say "candidly and directly" — her intuition told her it couldn't be anything good. But Ye Ling clearly had something to say, and since the woman was already sitting in her home, she couldn't very well make her swallow her words and leave. She was also a little curious about what Ye Ling wanted to discuss. She made a "please" gesture, indicating that Ye Ling should speak freely.

Ye Ling said, "I would like to invest in Zhengyu's studio and become a shareholder. I wonder if that would be possible?"

Wen Zhengyu secretly breathed a sigh of relief, thinking to herself: So it's about this. With her mood relaxed, her spirits also improved. Seeing Ye Ling thwarted actually gave her a certain sense of pleasure. However, she couldn't well display this in front of Ye Ling, so she replied with a tone of slightly apologetic sincerity: "Miss Ye, I'm very sorry, but my studio has already found investors. The contracts have been signed and all the procedures have been completed."

Ye Ling's expression conveyed a touch of regret as she nodded. She thought for a moment, then said, "Then I won't take up any more of your time." She rose to take her leave.

Wen Zhengyu stood to see her off. When she stood up and caught the look Ye Ling directed at her, she realized that her own eagerness to usher the guest out rather resembled sending off a plague god — quite offensive. Slightly embarrassed, she hurriedly tried to smooth things over, saying, "The moonlight is lovely tonight. How about having some tea in the courtyard before you go?" After speaking, she immediately felt her words were inappropriate and shrugged her shoulders in silent self-reproach.

The corners of Ye Ling's mouth lifted slightly. She smiled and said, "No, another time." She picked up the painting, bid Wen Zhengyu farewell, and left.

Wen Zhengyu escorted Ye Ling to the door. She could sense that Ye Ling's mood seemed quite good — even her steps were light and brisk as she walked. A business proposal rejected, yet still so happy? Clearly, it had been a casual remark, not a genuine interest in cooperation.

The next day, Wen Zhengyu discovered that her assumption had been wrong — and that she had, once again, underestimated the thickness of Ye Ling's skin, as well as her methods and efficiency in handling matters.

Ye Ling had actually sought out Old Master Mu, and then Old Master Mu's phone call reached her.

"Xiao Yu, how could you be so dishonest? Why didn't you tell me earlier that you had a partnership with Ye Ling? You two are close friends, Ye Ling has capital and connections — if you had told me earlier that she intended to collaborate with you, I wouldn't have gotten involved. Now look what's happened — Ye Ling came to me and wants to cut off my third son's supply contract. My third son's entire livelihood depends on this order."

Wen Zhengyu was completely bewildered. She said, "I don't have any partnership with Ye Ling."

Old Master Mu said, "Ye Ling said so herself. She..." His voice lowered. "She's sitting right now in my living room. Should I... should I hand the phone to her so you can talk to her? And besides, if you two aren't partners, how could she have arranged that exhibition for you before? At the exhibition, her interview saying you're close friends who can talk about anything and everything was all over the news. Can you deny it?"

Wen Zhengyu said, "I..." She felt her brain struggling to process this. She and Ye Ling were what kind of close friends? Ye Ling had wanted to collaborate with her before? That "before" was yesterday! Yesterday counted as "before"? By the time Ye Ling brought up cooperation, everything was already settled! But if she said this, would Old Master Mu believe it?

Old Master Mu sighed. "Xiao Yu, you've put me in a terrible position."

Wen Zhengyu said, "Ah, Grandpa Mu, it's not..."

Old Master Mu let out a heavy sigh. "Xiao Yu, I don't want to cross Ye Ling, and I won't meddle in the matters between you two. How about this — I'll transfer my shares to her. The two of you can hash things out between yourselves. What do you think?"

Wen Zhengyu said, "Grandpa Mu, please don't—" She was about to explain when she heard Old Master Mu continue: "I can't throw my own son under the bus for the sake of this investment." The rest of her words were swallowed back. With great reluctance, she amended her response: "Grandpa Mu, I respect your decision. I just still need to say, I truly had no prior knowledge of Ye Ling's affairs."

Old Master Mu sighed. "I understand. It's not easy for you either. I get it. Ye Ling is still waiting for me in the living room — I'll hang up now. We'll talk later. Ah, what a mess this is!" With that, he ended the call.

Wen Zhengyu held the phone, stifled for a long while, the knot of frustration clogging her chest with no outlet to release. It was quite a while before she remembered to call Wen Li and tell her about this. Their business, before it had even opened, was about to have its major shareholder replaced. And the new major shareholder would be that thick-skinned lunatic Ye Ling!

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