The Art of Teasing - Chapter 47
Chapter 47
Wen Zhengyu, listening to Ye Ling, turned her head to look, and saw that Ye Ling was gazing at her. The moment their eyes met, she saw the corner of Ye Ling's mouth lift slightly, once again that picture of utter unruffled composure, as if holding the entire world's schemes securely within her breast.
Ye Ling understood that Wen Zhengyu was worried about her. This feeling—of being cared for, of being worried over—was truly wonderful, tugging the corner of her lips irrepressibly upward, her heart feeling both sweet and slightly achy. She turned her head toward Wen Zhengyu and asked, "Do you know why the Phoenix Bird would battle the heavens?"
Wen Zhengyu shook her head. She said, "I only dreamed that dream, and so I painted it."
Ye Ling said, "I've told you before, the eyes in your paintings are extraordinarily expressive. The expression in the Phoenix Bird's eyes—indeed, the entire painting—exudes a sense of tragic, absolute finality. A phoenix battling the heavens, ten thousand birds dying in sacrifice."
Wen Zhengyu guessed what Ye Ling was about to say. She figured Ye Ling's interpretation was that the Phoenix Bird had lost a husband or wife—perhaps even that the spouse had been struck dead by lightning—and so the Phoenix Bird had led ten thousand birds into battle against the sky-filling divine thunder and lightning. However, as the original artist of this painting, she herself had no idea why the Phoenix Bird would battle the heavens.
Wen Zhengyu found it awkward to say anything; she could only watch silently as Ye Ling gave free rein to her wild imagination. Yet she waited a good while without hearing Ye Ling continue. She asked, "That's it? Why did the Phoenix Bird battle the heavens?"
Ye Ling's lips quirked as she said, "You painted the picture; by rights, I should be the one asking you that question."
Wen Zhengyu: "..." She felt a private pang of frustration. She sighed lightly and said, "It's getting late. I should be heading back."
Ye Ling immediately shifted to a conciliatory smile and said, "Don't be cross, Zhengyu. The truth is, I was afraid that if I'd misunderstood, you'd laugh at me. I'm thin-skinned; if you laughed at me, I'd have nowhere to hide my shame."
Ye Ling, thin-skinned? Wen Zhengyu felt she had just heard the year's biggest joke, bar none.
Ye Ling put away her smile, her expression turning earnest as she said, "Actually, in my view, no matter why the Phoenix Bird battled the heavens, after the loss has happened, doing all that becomes meaningless. It's nothing more than burying oneself along with those ten thousand birds." She raised her head, her gaze gentle yet carrying a determination that brooked no doubt, and said, "So, as I see it, what you value, what you treasure, you must protect well with your own hands. Exhaust all your strength, stake everything—if you still can't hold on, then accept your fate. To go seeking vengeance and conquest after the loss has already happened... that is simply too bleak."
Wen Zhengyu looked into Ye Ling's eyes. In Ye Ling's eyes, she saw that same steadfastness, that same absolute resolve, which she had captured in her paintings. She asked, "What exactly does it mean to stake everything?"
Ye Ling shifted her gaze away, looking into the distance and at the lake. She did not answer.
Wen Zhengyu let out an inquisitive "Mm?" sound, waiting with curiosity for Ye Ling's answer, not intending to let her gloss over it.
After a long while, Ye Ling finally said quietly, "Probably, it means waiting until the moment I'm ready to accept my fate."
Wen Zhengyu pressed on, "And when is it time to accept your fate?"
Wen Zhengyu's attitude of pressing until she got a clear answer made Ye Ling smile.
She smiled so widely her eyes curved into crescents, her whole demeanor like a spring breeze. After the smile faded, a trace of desolation flickered through her gaze. She said, "Probably when things reach the point they did for the Nine-Tailed Fox—that's when I'll accept my fate."
Wen Zhengyu's heart inexplicably clenched. The Nine-Tailed Fox—only in death did she accept her fate. She knew Ye Ling was not joking, not merely speaking sweet words. Although Ye Ling often teased her, Ye Ling did not make jokes. The words she spoke were exactly what she meant, never ambiguous. Such depth of feeling—it made Wen Zhengyu feel considerable pressure. She said to Ye Ling, "I have nothing with which to repay this."
Ye Ling laughed, and as if half-jokingly, half-seriously, she smoothly added, "Repay me by pledging yourself to me in marriage."
Wen Zhengyu: "..." She looked at Ye Ling speechlessly. Was she being flirted with? Wen Zhengyu felt a bit slow to react, along with a faint flicker of both anger and embarrassed irritation.
Ye Ling leaned in a little closer to Wen Zhengyu and said, "Zhengyu, look—I count as quite a great beauty myself, don't I?"
Wen Zhengyu: "..." She felt that the quality of "reserve" was something Ye Ling certainly did not possess.
Ye Ling continued, "Though I'm not fabulously wealthy, I'm not without means. I can forage and support myself; you needn't worry you can't afford to keep me."
Wen Zhengyu: "..." She watched Ye Ling in mute silence, curious to see what else Ye Ling might come up with.
Ye Ling fixed her gaze on Wen Zhengyu and asked, smiling, "Zhengyu, what if I pledge myself to you? Would that be acceptable?"
Wen Zhengyu looked at Ye Ling's features, so close before her eyes, at the smile on Ye Ling's face. Ye Ling's smile was casual, as if this whole speech had been tossed off in jest, yet the look in Ye Ling's eyes was so utterly earnest. She knew Ye Ling was not joking.
She stared blankly at Ye Ling; for a moment, she didn't even know how to refuse.
Ye Ling's smile deepened, her eyes curving into a beautiful arc with it. She did not press further for Wen Zhengyu's answer, instead refilling a cup of tea for her.
Wen Zhengyu breathed a secret sigh of relief. Though it wasn't much of a relief. She wanted to ask Ye Ling—why her? But in matters of the heart, there were not so many "whys." She picked up her tea, finished what was in the cup, and took her leave of Ye Ling.
Ye Ling rose and said, "I'll see you off."
Wen Zhengyu politely declined, "I drove up."
Ye Ling smiled and said, "Perfect timing, then. I came by taxi. Zhengyu wouldn't mind giving me a lift, would she?"
Wen Zhengyu shot back in a half-joking tone, "And what if I said I would mind?" Ye Ling, coming by taxi? Tell that to the ghosts!
Ye Ling tilted her head back to look at the sky with an air of resigned helplessness and said, "Then Zhengyu can just chalk it up to my own folly." She asked Wen Zhengyu, "You wouldn't mind lending me a few hundred yuan, would you?"
Wen Zhengyu's mouth opened slightly in surprise, and she looked at Ye Ling uncomprehendingly. Ye Ling wanted to borrow money from her? A few hundred yuan? Her instincts immediately screamed that this was a trap.
Ye Ling gestured meaningfully toward the tea table in the pavilion. She said, "I was thinking I could have some time alone with you, so after we came up, I sent Dong Yuan and the others away." She made a helpless gesture and said, "You know, my personal items are always carried by Dong Yuan." She said with complete frankness, "I currently don't have a single cent on me—" Before she could finish, Wen Zhengyu placed her phone in front of Ye Ling.
Ye Ling: "..." She glanced at Wen Zhengyu, then at the phone, and raised an eyebrow.
Wen Zhengyu unlocked the phone with her fingerprint and handed it over to Ye Ling.
Ye Ling sighed heavily, took the phone, and dialed Dong Yuan's number. Once the call connected, Dong Yuan's respectful and courteous voice came through the receiver: "Miss Wen." She said, "It's me. We're still at the tea pavilion. Come to the pavilion and pick me up." She hung up the phone and handed it back to Wen Zhengyu, catching the way Wen Zhengyu's eyes were drifting slightly and a hidden smile tugged at her lips. She could roughly guess what Wen Zhengyu was smiling about. Nothing more than laughing at her old, tired routines. Old or not, if they worked, they worked. Ye Ling asked, "Oh, right, I've heard the pastries at this tea house are quite excellent?"
Wen Zhengyu caught the inquiring look in Ye Ling's eyes and nodded lightly, saying, "Their lotus root cakes are exceptional—crystal lotus root cakes, sugared lotus root cakes, rock sugar lotus root—all quite good." She knew Ye Ling wanted to stall for time to spend a little longer with her. Leaving Ye Ling stranded on the mountain like this would be somewhat ungracious. Wen Zhengyu returned to the pavilion and called the server to order tea pastries.
Ye Ling, her face brimming with a smile she couldn't suppress even if she tried, returned to the pavilion and sat down.
She wondered if Wen Zhengyu had ever noticed. Every time she maneuvered Wen Zhengyu into treating her to pastries or sweets, as long as Wen Zhengyu wasn't genuinely too busy to get away, she would unfailingly take her. In all the time she'd known Wen Zhengyu, the pastry shops and specialty snack spots Wen Zhengyu had taken her to had never once repeated. Even down the deepest alleyways, Wen Zhengyu could find them, and she remembered clearly the flavor profile of each shop, which pastry, which snack each did best. Each time, Wen Zhengyu would also deliberately pack an extra portion to bring home for Old Master Wen.
Before, Ye Ling had little taste for sweets; what she'd found hardest to stomach was sugar added to savory dishes. But now, after spending so long with Wen Zhengyu, eating so many sweets, she'd gradually grown accustomed to it, and occasionally even found herself craving them. Sometimes, when she was on business trips and thinking of Wen Zhengyu, she would eat a few of the pastries Wen Zhengyu loved, and the flavor would be entirely different. Sweet, then sour, with a faint edge of bitterness. A woman past thirty, still experiencing such tender little emotions—it made Ye Ling feel rather bashful. This sort of thing couldn't be confided to anyone, so she could only savor it secretly by herself.
The mountain breeze blowing, the beautiful lake and mountain scenery before her, Wen Zhengyu sitting at her side, eating the pastries Wen Zhengyu loved—Ye Ling felt not only the leisurely relaxation of stealing half a day's idle pleasure from a busy life, but also a sweetness beyond words. She loved this kind of life, this kind of day.
Wen Zhengyu and Ye Ling savored the pastries at an unhurried pace. Without noticing, over half an hour slipped by, and still Dong Yuan and the others had not arrived.
Wen Zhengyu checked the time, swept a glance at Ye Ling, and recalled the exact words Ye Ling had used when calling Dong Yuan. She said, "CEO Ye, I suppose Dong Yuan won't be coming up until dinnertime?"
Having her little scheme exposed, Ye Ling neither blushed nor flinched, simply saying, "Probably stuck in traffic."
Wen Zhengyu cast a speechless glance at Ye Ling. Once they finished the pastries and the server had brought over the portion packed for her to take home to the Old Master, she paid the bill and said to Ye Ling, "CEO Ye, since it's on my way, I'll give you a lift."
Ye Ling said with an expression full of apology, "I had originally intended to treat Zhengyu to tea and pastries; I never imagined I'd end up being treated by Zhengyu instead. Another day, I'll certainly return the favor."
Wen Zhengyu couldn't be bothered to respond.
They reached the parking lot at the foot of the mountain and rendezvoused with Dong Yuan and the others.
Ye Ling did not immediately open the door to get out. She gazed at Wen Zhengyu, looking at her for a long moment, before saying, "Zhengyu, thank you."
Wen Zhengyu was taken aback, then found it amusing. She asked, "What is CEO Ye thanking me for?"
Ye Ling smiled slightly, didn't answer, pushed the door open and stepped out. She said to Wen Zhengyu, her tone soft, "See you tomorrow." Only then did she get into her own vehicle.
Wen Zhengyu felt that this thanks from Ye Ling was utterly inexplicable. She thought it over, failed to figure it out, and her mood to return to the studio was gone. She said to Wen Jing, "Let's go home."
Wen Jing acknowledged the order and drove Wen Zhengyu home.
Wen Zhengyu returned home, gave the boxed pastries she'd brought back to her grandfather, and sat with Old Master Wen for a while before retreating to her room.
She sat down at the desk in her bedroom and saw the small dough figurine artwork placed on the table. She remained silent for a long time. This game of tug-of-war between her and Ye Ling—it seemed Ye Ling had made the greater gains.
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