The Art of Teasing - Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Once she got into the car, she received a text from Ye Ling with her home address.

Wen Zhengyu was slightly taken aback. Was Ye Ling worried she'd lose track of the car? This wasn't rush hour and traffic wasn't heavy; it wouldn't be easy to lose them even if she tried. She texted back: "Received." and thought nothing more of it. Ye Ling might be worried she'd lose them, but she wasn't the least bit worried about her driver losing the car.

The driver's surname was Li, Li Bin, a retired soldier who'd joined the army at eighteen and served twelve years as a vehicle operator. He'd been working private car services for three or four years now, and like a taxi driver had practically become a living map. His car stayed steady behind Ye Ling's; when Ye Ling's sped up, he sped up; when it slowed, he slowed. The following distance was maintained perfectly, and Ye Ling's car rarely left his line of sight.

Ye Ling's home was a fair distance from hers, a full hour's drive, located in one of the city's well-known luxury residential areas.

As Ye Ling's car slowed to enter the front gate, the car Wen Zhengyu was in paused briefly, waiting behind.

Wen Zhengyu turned her head and caught sight of Ye Ling's front gate, and froze.

Ye Ling's gate was in the gated archway style common across the south. The foundation stones and pillars were built from white marble carved with reliefs of swirling clouds and auspicious beasts. Flying eaves and dougong brackets crowned the archway, magnificent and imposing, and inscribed in seal script above were four characters: "Kunlun Cottage."

The archway was remarkably similar to the one she had designed for Kunlun Art Studio — the only difference being that the studio's gate had ultimately become a stripped-down version due to cost. Relief carvings had become painted decorations, and the covered gate structure had been reduced to a decorative facade, retaining only the silhouette.

Ye Ling's gate was an uncompromising, top-spec version.

If it weren't for the fact that the craftsmanship, materials, and artistry clearly couldn't have been completed in a mere three to five months, and that the gatehouse appeared to have stood for at least a year or two, she might have thought Ye Ling had gotten hold of her draft renovation designs for the studio.

Granted, Chinese gatehouse styles generally fall into a limited number of categories, but such a blatant "outfit clash" went far beyond awkwardness — Wen Zhengyu was nearly mortified.

Two archways of roughly identical style, one called "Kunlun Art Studio," the other "Kunlun Cottage" — Ye Ling's gate had been built first, her own design came after. From any angle, hers was the knockoff.

Wen Zhengyu finally understood the meaning behind Ye Ling's smirk that day when she'd stood outside the studio staring at the sign for so long.

Wen Zhengyu didn't consider herself a person without a temper. She immediately wanted to tell Li Bin to turn around and go home — only then did she notice that in her absorption with embarrassment and anger, she hadn't even registered that the car had already driven into the courtyard. Li Bin had gotten out and opened the rear door for her, and Ye Ling was waiting right beside it. She inhaled deeply, forcing her emotions down, and got out. She lifted her eyes to Ye Ling, who was gazing at her with a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

She'd already stepped through Ye Ling's gate; she'd already seen the gatehouse. Turning around and leaving now would be an outright admission of defeat. Standing composed, she asked evenly, "Does Miss Ye have some issue with the studio gate I designed?"

Ye Ling paused, slightly startled, then said, "Why would I? I like it very much."

To Wen Zhengyu's ears, it sounded entirely sarcastic, and she was seized by a powerful urge to storm off. She stood ramrod straight, her hands pressed tight against her sides, clenching into fists, struggling to keep her emotions in check. Then a thought struck her, shifting into chagrin: Who told me to design a gatehouse just like Ye Ling's! Then she considered that Ye Ling wouldn't be so petty as to call her over just to mock her, and the turmoil in her heart eased significantly.

Ye Ling said, "Please, come in," and ushered Wen Zhengyu toward the living room.

Wen Zhengyu followed at Ye Ling's side toward the living room. Her gaze drifted idly across the courtyard and caught a glimpse of an aged tree, evidently quite old, as if transplanted here. The gnarled tree stood stark, golden fallen leaves blanketing the entire courtyard — on the ceramic tables and stools, in the flower beds, on the potted plants, across the rockery and pond, scattered everywhere.

Golden fallen leaves, green pine bonsai, set against an artificial mountain with a trickling stream, a small bridge, a pavilion — there was a hint of autumn's desolation in it, yet the murmuring stream flowing out of the rockery added a touch of life to the autumn breeze. The several pots of bougainvillea bonsai by the stream bank were in full bloom.

Ye Ling's courtyard stirred something in Wen Zhengyu she couldn't put into words, an eerie sense of déjà vu, as if she had been here before.

An inexplicable emotion welled up in Wen Zhengyu's heart, and her steps faltered just as she reached the living room entrance. She hesitated slightly, and only moved forward again when Ye Ling looked back.

Ye Ling's living room was predominantly white, with green potted plants and ink wash landscape paintings as accents — decorated with refined elegance.

Following Ye Ling's lead, she sat on the living room sofa while Ye Ling personally prepared tea.

Wen Zhengyu's gaze drifted from Ye Ling's hands as she poured tea, through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, and back into the courtyard. She looked at the ancient tree, the white porcelain table and stools beneath it, the fallen leaves across the courtyard, and the shape of the adjacent rockery. The scene before her eyes suddenly merged with a painting in her mind. In that painting, a little sprite had been hidden on that very rockery, and beneath the tree stood a jade table and stools carved from Kunlun white jade. Beside the jade table sat a nine-tailed fox of pure, unblemished white, without a single hair of any other color.

The painting was called Nine Tails. She had exhibited it three years ago.

In it, the nine-tailed fox underwent Daoist dissolution beneath the tree, its drifting fur like the goose-feather snows of the Kunlun Mountains. It dissipated like smoke, leaving behind only a layer of translucent white ash. The little sprite buried it beneath the ancient tree. The little sprite didn't know whom the nine-tailed fox had been waiting for; it only knew that the nine-tailed fox had never gotten to meet them, not even in death. The nine-tailed fox's eyes in its final moments had been so sorrowful, so full of desolation.

She had painted only the nine-tailed fox sitting beneath the tree, only the expression in its eyes before death. She had not painted how it died.

Ye Ling called, "Zhengyu."

Wen Zhengyu came back to herself and looked at Ye Ling, only then realizing Ye Ling was offering her tea. She accepted the cup with both hands, took a small sip, and after a moment's pause, asked, "Miss Ye is fond of Nine Tails?"

Ye Ling considered, then said slowly, "I'm fond of this picturesque scenery." She paused. "The nine-tailed fox's eyes hold too much sorrow, a dying despair."

Wen Zhengyu hadn't expected Ye Ling to have looked so carefully, to see the emotions she had painted into the nine-tailed fox. She felt a bit surprised, and a bit at a loss for words, so she merely remained silent.

Ye Ling paused again, then said, "On the rockery, there is a little sprite that appears almost carved from the rock itself. The nine-tailed fox's eyes are looking straight at that little sprite. Zhengyu, your painting is remarkably expressive. From the nine-tailed fox's gaze in that painting, I believe it must have said something to the little sprite." She paused. "I'm a little curious. Would you mind telling me?"

Wen Zhengyu gently shook her head. "It said nothing." But the little sprite knew what it wanted to say. It was just that the little sprite was a passerby, a spectator, incapable of doing anything, of changing anything. The only thing it could do was witness the nine-tailed fox's death and then bury it. The little sprite also knew that the one the nine-tailed fox had been waiting for had died many, many, many years ago.

The stories of those sprites, immortals, and demons on the Kunlun Divine Mountain were, by and large, not happy ones.

Just like this mortal world — no matter how brilliantly or poorly one lives, eventually the music stops and the people scatter, the theater lights dim. In the end, no one can escape the fate of a handful of ash.

Wen Zhengyu realized her mind had wandered. She said to Ye Ling, "It's getting late. Let's go select the paintings."

Ye Ling replied, "Alright." She added, "The paintings are in the studio on the second floor." With that, she rose and said, "This way, please," then led Wen Zhengyu upstairs.

Following Ye Ling into the studio, Wen Zhengyu saw that many of her works were hung up; the entire room was filled wall-to-wall with her paintings.

It was only then that it belatedly dawned on her: her paintings had previously been kept in the Painting Hall at the Old Family Mansion. She remembered Ye Ling saying when she had bought them that moving so many paintings in would be inconvenient, and that buying her paintings could allow them to remain in their original state, preserved in the Painting Hall.

Wen Zhengyu's chest tightened. She turned her head and gave Ye Ling a long look, then truly wished she didn't have to look at Ye Ling any more.

Her own paintings — she could count them with her eyes closed. She knew better than anyone which were suitable for public exhibition and which could only stay locked away in the bottom of a trunk. She briskly listed off the painting titles for Ye Ling to find.

Ye Ling said, "I think the Corpses and Seas of Blood is quite good."

Wen Zhengyu: "..." She turned to look at Ye Ling and very much wanted to ask: What exactly are your tastes? But as the artist, while the whole world could criticize Ye Ling's unique appreciation for this piece, she was the one person who could not. In truth, that painting wasn't bad either; it just wasn't suitable for exhibition. Wen Li had suffered nightmares for half a month after viewing it and had nearly wanted to burn her paintings. She made an "uh" sound and said, "Miss Ye, I think you should still consider Wen Li's feelings. Seeing Corpses and Seas of Blood would bring back some very unpleasant memories for her."

Ye Ling made an "oh" sound, then asked curiously, "Actually, I'm rather curious. Why would you paint something like this?"

Wen Zhengyu choked. She turned to look at this person who had just moments before professed to like Corpses and Seas of Blood. She stated flatly, "It's nothing. Had a nightmare, painted it to scare people." If only it could scare Ye Ling into half a month of nightmares too, that would be ideal.

Ye Ling asked, "You were scared?"

Wen Zhengyu said expressionlessly, "If I hadn't been scared, it wouldn't be called a nightmare." She truly did not want to uncouthly curse Ye Ling in her head as crazy for asking idiotic questions. Wen Zhengyu no longer wanted to spend one more moment with Ye Ling. If she stayed any longer, whatever refinement, composure, courtesy, and etiquette she possessed would all collapse.

Ye Ling made a noncommittal "oh" and did as Wen Zhengyu instructed, carrying the paintings one by one to the doorway. After hauling seven paintings in a row without pause, she brought out one more: a figure with hair longer than its body, gaunt to the point of skin and bones, its body covered in scales, with fingernails that curled grotesquely until they resembled a mermaid's relative — the Kunlun Dark River Hag. Ye Ling asked, "Is this a mermaid? But why no fish tail?" She considered this, then felt something was off, and asked, "In the primordial Kunlun Divine Mountain, there weren't any humans, were there?"

Wen Zhengyu strongly suspected Ye Ling was questioning the accuracy of her painting. She clenched her fingers tightly and silently commanded herself: Calm down, continuing to maintain her expression of utter serenity. She said, "This is the Kunlun Dark River Hag, it depicts a hag, not a person, not a mer... not a mermaid."

Ye Ling made a sound of acknowledgment and lifted her eyes to glance at Wen Zhengyu, then carried the Kunlun Dark River Hag back to its place on the wall.

Wen Zhengyu breathed a silent sigh of relief. The hag's appearance did not align with conventional public aesthetics; hanging it up for display would easily invite criticism and disparagement.

Get instant access to all chapters now.

Previous Table of Contents Next