The Art of Teasing - Chapter 45
Chapter 45
Ye Ling finished making her birthday wish and blew out the candles.
Dong Yuan brought over a small portable lamp, then quietly withdrew.
The soft lamplight fell on the two of them, suffusing the air with a quiet warmth.
Ye Ling gently picked up the little dough figurines and carefully wiped away the cream and cake smudges with a napkin. She held out the pair of figurines to Wen Zhengyu and said, "For you. They're clumsily made—I hope Zhengyu won't find them too shabby."
Wen Zhengyu did find them shabby, but face to face with the birthday star, she didn't dare speak the truth. She had no choice but to reach out and accept the figurines. "I don't find them shabby at all. CEO Ye made these herself—I wouldn't dare."
Ye Ling said, "They're a bit clumsy, but I imagine all dough figurines taste more or less the same. Still, I suspect Zhengyu may not be able to bear eating them. To make them easier for Zhengyu to keep, I added a preservative."
Wen Zhengyu: "…" How was she supposed to eat them with a preservative added? Ye Ling wanted her to keep the figurines as a memento? She rather felt like biting the head off the Ye Ling figurine in one bite.
Ye Ling cut the cake, placed a slice on a small plate with a fork, and set it before Wen Zhengyu. "Zhengyu, have some cake."
Wen Zhengyu gently set the figurines down, said "Thank you," and accepted the cake.
The evening breeze, carrying moisture from the lake, drifted in slow and soft—supremely comfortable.
Wen Zhengyu ate her cake and took in the moonlit lake scenery, Ye Ling beside her.
Perhaps it was because it was so quiet here, with only the two of them, that her senses felt far keener than usual, her emotions far more sensitive.
Wen Zhengyu had the sudden feeling of the two of them keeping each other quiet company, as if the years themselves were gentle and good.
She thought: Perhaps Ye Ling, who battles through the business world, also wishes for a moment of peace.
Dough figurines are very hard to preserve. Even with a preservative, after enough time they will still mildew, degrade, or dry and crack.
Ye Ling had given her the figurines with special care, even thoughtfully providing a little box in which to carry them home.
Wen Zhengyu couldn't possibly eat them knowing there was a preservative inside, and she couldn't throw them in the trash either. She could only find a way to preserve them.
She had a craftsman first steep the dough figurines in a decoction of the same anti-mold Chinese herbs used to make paste for mounting calligraphy and painting, applying an extra preservative treatment. Then she let the figurines dry in a shaded, well-ventilated place for several days. Once all the moisture was gone, she sealed them in resin, mimicking the formation of amber, and mounted them on a carved rootwood base, turning them into a small craft object.
Wen Zhengyu had no desire to keep this pair of little dough figurines. She wanted to send them back to Ye Ling, but she worried Ye Ling might misunderstand again or say something else. So she simply placed them as a decorative piece on the desk in her own bedroom.
She understood Ye Ling's feelings. She knew Ye Ling genuinely liked her. But she and Ye Ling seemed more like people from two different worlds. Their respective careers, families, and the directions their lives were taking didn't run along the same line. The only point of intersection was that Ye Ling admired her paintings and liked her as a person.
She was unwilling to develop any overly close relationship with Ye Ling, unwilling to let their two lives tangle together.
What she wanted was nothing more than to earn enough to sustain her life, hold tight to her brush, and paint in peace and quiet.
After Ye Ling's birthday, for several days in a row, her mood remained very good.
Wen Zhengyu's attitude and manner toward Ye Ling continued as before.
For her, what she had to do now was simply run the studio well.
By the end of July, the weather was blazing hot, the ground itself looking as though it might melt under the sun.
With the busy, bustling spring season past, the various arts exchange events gradually diminished, and Wen Zhengyu at last found herself a bit freer, spending more and more days at the studio.
Although July and August were the off-season, business was still fairly good, and the studio's finances were gradually becoming more robust.
Whenever she came across antique paintings that were not too expensive and were well preserved, Wen Zhengyu was now willing to buy them. Some she promoted to high-end clients, some she hung in the studio for sale, and in the process they also helped dress up the place. She followed a conservative path, purchasing antique paintings only when she had surplus funds. That way, even if she happened to misjudge and buy a forgery or a defective piece, she need not fear that she couldn't bear the loss.
During the day, Wen Zhengyu spent whatever time she could at the studio. After returning home for dinner, then accompanying the old gentleman on his walk, it was already night. Playing the zither at that hour would disturb the neighbors.
A zither needs to be played often; only then will the strings gradually loosen to their proper tension, and the tone and timbre grow better and better.
At the studio she frequently had brief pockets of free time—too short to paint, so she thought she might play the zither to relax. She moved her zither into the studio, so that in idle moments she could play a tune or two.
Her office window faced the lake.
Looking out at the lake waters and the weeping willows while playing, letting the notes flow and emptying her mind, was very helpful for easing fatigue and adjusting her mood.
One afternoon, just as Wen Zhengyu had seated herself before the zither stand, a staff member came upstairs to knock on the door and tell her someone wanted to buy a painting and wished to see the boss.
Wen Zhengyu went downstairs and saw a man somewhere between thirty and forty years old, standing before an early Qing dynasty antique painting.
That painting depicted a Jiangnan water town. The painter was not famous, but the painting skill was outstanding—the brushwork and the artistic conception were both excellent.
The man stood ramrod straight, like a stalwart pine atop a high mountain range. His hairstyle and clothes were immaculate, and that stern, self-contained intensity rivaled Ye Ling's. Just standing there, for no clear reason, he emanated a sense of pressure and a heavy, imposing authority.
Wen Zhengyu glanced outside instinctively but saw no bodyguards or attendants. However, not seeing any didn't mean there were none.
She could tell this was a man highly successful in business. Ordinarily, someone like him would scarcely come to buy a painting in person; even if they did, they would call ahead. Of course, it could also be that he was passing by and simply stopped in to look, but to stop in and then ask for the boss… that was rather odd.
Wen Zhengyu went over, smiled lightly, and gave a greeting: "Hello." Seeing that the man's gaze was still on the painting, she gave an introduction to its distinctive features, strengths, and shortcomings. The painting itself was good, only it didn't quite match the two requirements most collectors nowadays prize—renowned artist and great age.
The man gave a slight nod, turned his head toward Wen Zhengyu, and with an almost imperceptible sweep of his eyes assessed her briefly, then said, "I would like to buy a painting. I wonder whether you might recommend one or two?"
He spoke very slowly, his voice gentle, but his enunciation was clear, steady, and forceful, each word seeming to weigh a thousand pounds.
For some inexplicable reason, Wen Zhengyu thought of Ye Ling. This man's manner of speaking and style were several parts similar to Ye Ling's.
She felt a sudden sense that something was off—she was even thinking of Ye Ling upon meeting a random customer. She quickly banished the thought from her mind, smiled, and replied, "Of course. May I ask what kind of painting you are looking for?"
The man asked, "What sorts of things do you have here?"
Wen Zhengyu gave a concise overview, categorizing by era, category, the artist's renown, and market trends and appreciation potential. From the paintings the studio currently had, she selected several she thought were particularly good and recommended them.
The man asked, "May I examine the paintings first?"
Wen Zhengyu said, "Of course." She invited him into the VIP room and arranged for the paintings to be brought in.
One by one, the man unrolled the paintings, scrutinizing and appreciating them in detail, then asked Wen Zhengyu to give another round of introductions. After listening, he raised many questions about the works, his inquiries extremely astute and even tricky.
Wen Zhengyu could see that this man had a solid grounding in painting connoisseurship. His questions were astute but not deliberately difficult or empty of substance.
Still, generally speaking, someone in the trade who meant to buy wouldn't ask in this way.
If this were meant as mutual artistic exchange, you wouldn't meet in such a manner.
Was he challenging the shop? Sizing up the competition?
From his attire, she could see he was a person of considerable standing. Her small studio was probably not worth his notice.
Wen Zhengyu keenly noticed that the man was observing her, but his eyes when he looked at her were frank; he didn't seem to harbor any ill intent.
Was he here for her? Or was he considering an investment in the studio? But the studio was so small—where was there anything worth his investing in—Ye Ling!
A thought flashed through her mind.
Ye Ling kept her office permanently at the studio.
No shortage of people wanted to get close to Ye Ling.
When the studio first opened, Ye Ling had made quite a high-profile appearance, and afterward she hadn't deliberately kept a low profile either; she'd even moved her office in.
Wen Zhengyu had been going on about the paintings until her mouth was dry, her brain nearly wrung out. The man showed no sign of buying, but also no sign of wanting to leave. She thought to herself: "Your main purpose here is Ye Ling, isn't it? How about I call her and ask for you?" But since he hadn't indicated anything, she could only pretend not to know. A guest was a guest, and she could only keep him company.
The crisp sound of high heels clicking on wood-grain floor tiles came from outside.
The rhythm and force of those steps was very familiar. Wen Zhengyu, without even raising her head, knew through the glass door that Ye Ling had returned.
She lifted her head to see Ye Ling turning to look at her. A smile surfaced on Ye Ling's face—then froze, and immediately turned into blank astonishment.
Clearly, Ye Ling knew this person.
Wen Zhengyu thought to herself: "As expected, he's here for Ye Ling." She smiled faintly toward Ye Ling, sorely tempted to say: CEO Ye, someone's here for you.
The man's gaze left the painting and lifted toward Ye Ling.
Ye Ling's eyes shifted from the man to Wen Zhengyu, hesitated for two seconds, then she pushed open the door and entered. "Brother," she said, and asked, "What are you doing here?"
Brother?
Wen Zhengyu looked at the man with slight surprise. This was Ye Ling's elder brother, Ye Zhan?
No wonder she'd thought of Ye Ling when she first saw him. Not only did he resemble Ye Ling in temperament and manner of speaking, but even their facial features bore a faint similarity.
Wen Zhengyu suddenly understood. He hadn't only come for Ye Ling; very likely he had come for her as well. She suspected Ye Zhan wanted to come see what sort of person his younger sister liked.
Wen Zhengyu was thoroughly speechless.
As she saw it, Ye Zhan didn't seem the sort to pry into personal affairs. Had he come specially to play this little drama because Ye Ling's feelings for her had affected something? Or was it simply out of concern for his little sister?
Wen Zhengyu wasn't sure.
Ye Zhan rose and said, "I came to take a look around." He said to Wen Zhengyu, "I apologize for taking up so much of Miss Wen's time. I hope Miss Wen will do me the honor of sharing a meal together."
Wen Zhengyu didn't want to wade into the murky waters between these two siblings, but clearly, she'd already been dragged in by Ye Ling.
Ye Ling smiled at Wen Zhengyu and said, "I'm just getting hungry myself. Zhengyu, come with us—I'll need to trouble you as the local expert. It's rare for my brother to visit; I'd like to treat him to some authentic Hangzhou cuisine."
Wen Zhengyu understood that Ye Ling wanted her to get to know her brother. Although she and Ye Ling weren't like that, with Ye Zhan having come such a long way, there was no avoiding him. If she had to face it, then face it she would. She took Ye Zhan to a well-known restaurant in the area famed for its authentic local specialty dishes.
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