The Art of Teasing - Chapter 42
Chapter 42
By the time Wen Zhengyu returned to the art studio, it was already closing time.
She drove home to have dinner with Old Master Wen.
Wen Zhengyu was severely sleep-deprived, so tired she could barely keep her eyes open, her entire being radiating exhaustion she couldn't hide even if she tried.
Old Master Wen asked her, "Why do you look so haggard?"
Wen Zhengyu didn't dare put on a brave face in front of the Old Master, but she also didn't want him to worry, so she had to choose what she could safely tell him. "I didn't sleep well last night. I was planning to catch up on sleep at the studio today, but then Ye Ling dragged me to Jiguzhai Antique Studio at the last minute to authenticate a painting for her." She lazily leaned back against the sofa, rubbing her forehead wearily, and said, "She didn't end up buying a painting at Jiguzhai. I could see she was pretty anxious about it, so I took her to Zhou Ji's place."
Old Master Wen asked, "Why didn't you sleep well? Not used to something?"
Wen Zhengyu said, "I dreamed someone burned all my paintings." Seeing the Old Master look as though he had more questions, she continued, "There was a wall. It started as a brick and stone wall, then inexplicably turned into a wall built from corpses. Masses of corpses emerged from the wall and turned into fire, burning my paintings." She paused for a few seconds, then added, "I haven't had time lately. Otherwise, I could paint a Corpse Wall Inferno."
Old Master Wen didn't ask further. He stood up and said, "Let's eat."
After dinner, Wen Zhengyu went upstairs to rest. After washing up, she called Wen Li to tell her she would be catching up on sleep at home today and would head over in a couple of days. She thought for a moment, then said, "Lili, you took me out traveling for so many days. I've sort of sorted out a few threads of thought. When you have time, and when I have a spare moment, let's find a time to talk?"
Wen Li replied, "Alright. You go sleep first."
Wen Zhengyu responded, "Goodnight," and hung up the phone.
She slept a full, deep sleep.
The next day, she rose early.
Sun Yuan was in the kitchen making breakfast. Zhan Cheng was in the backyard garage washing the car. Old Master Wen was in the courtyard practicing Tai Chi.
Over the past few days, Wen Zhengyu had grown accustomed to drinking coffee with Wen Li every morning. She went and brewed a cup of coffee, then sat on a small round stool in the courtyard, sipping her coffee and watching the Old Master practice Tai Chi.
The courtyard was small, and its decor and furnishings all followed an exquisite, delicate style. A tiny arched bridge, just over a meter long, spanned a small pond. Old Master Wen stood on this tiny arched bridge practicing Tai Chi.
Though the space was limited, the Old Master's footwork was exceptionally methodical. He shifted, turned, and moved on the small bridge without appearing cramped in the slightest.
Tai Chi is divided into the Literary, Martial, and Artistic styles. Most of what is practiced today consists of health-preserving exercises for strengthening the body, belonging to the Literary style. The Artistic style emphasizes visual spectacle and is a performance form. In his youth, the Old Master came from a well-off family, but living in turbulent times, his parents hired a martial arts master so he could learn some self-defense skills. What he learned was the Martial style of Tai Chi, centered on combat techniques.
The Old Master learned boxing for self-defense and health, with no intention of becoming a professional martial artist. All these years, he had simply practiced it as a health exercise.
As for whether the Old Master truly possessed genuine kung fu skills, Wen Zhengyu figured she had her answer observing that he always came and went accompanied by a chauffeur who doubled as a part-time bodyguard.
She had followed the Old Master in learning boxing for a while as a child but had only mastered the flashy, superficial moves. She hadn't studied for long. During one push-hands practice session with the Old Master, he had flipped her to the ground with a single light palm strike. She had hurt so much she wailed and cried, and from that point onward, she never practiced boxing with the Old Master again.
The family had fallen on hard times. Her father had fled to her Eldest Aunt's place. Now, she went out to work and earn money every day, no longer able to live a leisurely life following her every whim. Yet, the family still consisted of her and her grandfather. Her home still existed. This made Wen Zhengyu feel that if she could preserve this home, allowing grandfather and granddaughter to remain living together, then hardship and toil counted for nothing compared to that. A person's life passes through storms and tempests. Often, one cannot attend to everything perfectly. If you can strive for your own pursuits and safeguard what you cherish, then your life has not been lived in vain.
After the Old Master finished his practice, Wen Zhengyu handed him a towel to wipe his sweat.
Seeing that his granddaughter's spirits and complexion had recovered after a night's sleep, Old Master Wen felt reassured. After wiping off the sweat, he hung the towel back on the rack and asked Wen Zhengyu, "Is the studio going smoothly?"
Wen Zhengyu said, "Reasonably smoothly. Lili thinks the studio's development is good and that we can expand operations. I'm a bit uncertain, still mulling it over."
The Old Master said, "Mm. For things you're unsure about, take your time thinking. Sometimes, staying still is better than making a move."
Wen Zhengyu felt the Old Master's words made a great deal of sense. However, Wen Li operated by a different set of principles. In Wen Li's view, nothing in the world was absolutely guaranteed, a sure win with no risk of loss. If the likelihood of success in a matter exceeded fifty percent, then it could proceed.
After accompanying the Old Master through breakfast, Wen Zhengyu laid out her considerations regarding the studio's business operations to him, wanting to hear his advice.
The Old Master didn't say it was good, nor did he say it was bad. He told her, "Good or bad, hearing it from others is useless. What it truly amounts to, whether the path is open to you—you must try it yourself to know. Start small. Don't spread your stall too wide. Even if you lose money, keep it within a range you can bear."
After many days of consideration, Wen Zhengyu decided to try it out first.
Her idea was to first secure a loan of three to five million to replenish the studio's working capital. With funds in hand, she could then proceed with the next phase of her plan. The repayment pressure of three to five million was well within the studio's capacity to bear.
As for dealing in antiques, calligraphy, and paintings, that still required careful deliberation and a slow, methodical approach. In the entire studio, she was currently the only one who understood antiques. Until she could hire reliable people, she didn't plan to rashly launch this line of business.
High-risk, high-reward projects were not suitable for her right now.
Although she had made a small profit introducing Ye Ling to buy a painting from Zhou Ji, this sort of middleman side income only happened once or twice through serendipity. She had years of friendship with Zhou Ji and trusted Ye Ling, which was why she dared to make the introduction and facilitate the transaction.
If unfamiliar people approached her, she would first have to consider whether they genuinely wanted to buy a painting. She basically wouldn't consider acting as a go-between. Her age and experience were obvious. People who didn't know her would doubt her capability based on her age. Serious, legitimate art buyers would not easily seek her out.
The business of acting as a middleman and flipping goods was something the Old Master had done extensively. He had built most of his family fortune that way—it was territory he knew like the back of his hand. Yet even so, he had nearly stumbled badly not long ago. She now still owed Ye Ling seven hundred thousand with no way to repay it, her bracelet still mortgaged with Ye Ling.
Having settled on a direction, Wen Zhengyu found a time to discuss it with Wen Li. She also wrote an email informing Ye Ling. Then, together with the finance manager, she became busy dealing with the loan application.
Her finance manager was extremely familiar with the process of handling loans at the bank and had more experience than her in the matter of interpersonal dealings. Coupled with the studio's good operational performance, the loan was smoothly approved.
The studio gained five million in working capital and over five million in external debt. Wen Zhengyu controlled expenditures even more meticulously. Doing business required precision down to every cent, every hundredth of a cent, every thousandth of a cent. A slight loosening of control, and profits would vanish, potentially dragging the principal down with them—not to mention she now carried the added pressure of loan repayment.
Wen Li's requirement for her was: "Just earn back the interest on this five-million loan."
Ye Ling had no requirements for her.
An investor having no demands regarding operational returns was clearly illogical.
There were far too many illogical things about Ye Ling. Wen Zhengyu had grown accustomed to it. As long as it wasn't excessive, she just let it be.
Wen Zhengyu used part of this money to expand the summer auction and summer exhibition. Another portion went toward organizing events to expand visibility and influence. If she wanted to successfully operate in the high-end market, she first had to build a trustworthy brand—one that convinced people she ran an excellent studio with solid strength, good reputation, and fine paintings.
The studio now had corresponding operational procedures and regulations. Each department operated by these rules, which eased Wen Zhengyu's burden considerably.
Wen Zhengyu's social engagements, business entertaining, and personal networking grew busier day by day. Various banquets and gatherings were impossible to keep up with. Here, in the Jiangnan region where literary and artistic talents converged, calligraphy and painting appreciation societies, painter symposiums, and industry exchange conferences—both publicly held and privately organized by old friends and acquaintances—took place almost every day.
In the blink of an eye, it was mid-July.
One morning, just as Wen Zhengyu entered the studio, she ran into Ye Ling.
Their offices were separated only by a single wall, and they both arrived at the same time for work, so they basically encountered each other every morning. They exchanged greetings of "Good morning," then went upstairs together, each entering her own office. Occasionally, Ye Ling would bring her some tea leaves, coffee, or specialty snacks from other regions. Reciprocating the gesture, Wen Zhengyu would occasionally bring her some local pastries, snacks, or treats.
This kind of neither-too-close-nor-too-distant colleague relationship was quite comfortable to navigate, and Wen Zhengyu found it rather pleasant.
She greeted Ye Ling: "Good morning, CEO Ye."
Ye Ling responded as always, "Good morning, Zhengyu." Then she extended her hand toward Dong Yuan, who was following behind her.
Dong Yuan opened his briefcase, drew out an exquisitely crafted and beautifully designed invitation card, and handed it to Ye Ling with both hands.
Ye Ling took the invitation, opened it, and glanced at it, as if confirming it was the correct one. She handed the invitation to Wen Zhengyu and said, "July 20th is my birthday. Zhengyu, you simply must come."
Wen Zhengyu accepted the invitation and opened it. She saw it was an invitation letter personally handwritten by Ye Ling. She didn't know how many invitation letters Ye Ling had written herself. Receiving a handwritten invitation from CEO Ye, she wasn't sure whether to feel honored or pressured.
Whether from a public or private standpoint, she could hardly refuse Ye Ling's invitation. She immediately smiled and agreed, "Alright, I'll be there on time."
Ye Ling said, "Just a simple little gathering. Not many people. It'll be quite peaceful."
Wen Zhengyu understood. This was a private celebration, inviting a few close friends. She nodded and replied, "Alright." She also found herself curious about who exactly could be considered close friends of Ye Ling. This thought gave her a slight pause. Who Ye Ling chose as friends had nothing to do with her. Was she curious about Ye Ling's private social circle? The thought startled Wen Zhengyu, but she immediately decided it was impossible—she was just making a fuss over nothing herself.
Comments
Post a Comment