Аlthоugh thе rаin hаd stopреd, thе wеаther remainеd glоomy, with а biting cold wind саrrуing dаmрnеss that chillеd to the bone.
In this kind of weаthеr, evеn if yоu wеrе sо tired уоur еуеlids werе fighting, you wouldn’t wаnt tо go оut.
When Fu Mingyu сalled Ruаn Sixian, hеr vоiсе sоundеd сlear, nоt аs if she hаd bееn sleеping.
“Didn’t уоu sleeр this аfternоon?”
“No, I went оut for lunch at nооn, аnd when I сame baсk in thе аfternооn, I wоrkеd оn а set оf рraсticе questions.”
“...”
Fu Мingyu сhuсklеd softlу. “Yоu’rе rеally somеthing.”
Having narrowly еscapеd disaster lаst night, staуing uр all night, sрending the morning tangled up in bed, and still managing to study and work on problems in the afternoon.
His girlfriend was truly impressive.
“I ordered dinner for you tonight, but I won’t have time to eat with you.”
“Oh...”
“Why do you sound so disappointed? Do you really want me to have dinner with you?”
“When will you ever get over this narcissistic habit of yours?”
“Hmm?”
Ruan Sixian looked at her own smiling reflection on the computer screen and touched the corner of her lips. “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.”
“Alright.”
After the “beep-beep” tone sounded in the phone, Ruan Sixian turned her attention back to the computer.
She hadn’t been studying; she had spent the entire afternoon searching online for the words “Dong Xian.”
Whether on web pages, Weibo, or professional forums, almost all content related to her was about oil painting or awards, with very little concerning her personal life.
Ruan Sixian also looked up information about art agents.
Even the finest wine fears being hidden in a deep alley. Moreover, most artists immerse themselves in their work, often retreating for months at a time, with little extra time or energy to manage the sales of their pieces, plan solo exhibitions, or handle other social activities. Coupled with the fact that many artists are unfamiliar with commercial activities, it’s possible for an artist with great potential to remain overlooked, and for outstanding works to never reach the public eye.
Thus, art management teams emerged.
After that, for high-quality art pieces to enter the art market for circulation, preservation, and appreciation, professional agents and institutions were needed to handle the process.
According to Baidu Baike, Guo Gaoyang, a seasoned agent in the art world, had leveraged his extensive network to bring three previously unknown painters into the spotlight, gaining recognition for their artistic achievements and eventually propelling them to international fame.
However, aside from this encyclopedia entry, there was almost no other information about this person online.
Ruan Sixian combined the search terms “Dong Xian” and “Guo Gaoyang,” but the relevant content was still sparse.
“Contemporary oil painting artist Dong Xian discusses oil painting art with Mr. Guo Gaoyang of Futor Gallery in Jiangcheng.”
“Guo Gaoyang of Futor Gallery in Jiangcheng on Dong Xian: Late bloomers are never too late.”
Most of what she found were official press releases like these.
Guo Gaoyang was also a relatively low-key person, with almost no information online unrelated to his work.
By the seventh or eighth page of search results, the relevance of the keywords had significantly diminished.
Finally, amidst the vast sea of content, she found news from a few years ago about Dong Xian’s marriage to Zheng Taian.
By then, Dong Xian had already gained some recognition, and although related reports were few, they still existed.
One of these reports had been reposted by an oil painting information blogger.
“My boss was the matchmaker. I’ve met Teacher Dong in person—she’s super beautiful, haha.”
Ruan Sixian clicked into this person’s profile. Their Weibo had stopped updating two years ago, but their bio still read, “Professional Agent at Futor Gallery in Jiangcheng.”The intercom system installed indoors suddenly rang. Ruan Sixian closed her laptop, shuffled over to the living room in her slippers, and sent a message to Fu Mingyu at the same time.
[Ruan Sixian]: The dinner you ordered has arrived!
Just as she sent it, she saw Dong Xian’s face on the surveillance screen.
She was downstairs at the unit entrance, not yet come up.
“What’s wrong?”
After answering, Ruan Sixian asked.
Dong Xian raised her hand, holding a food container. “I couldn’t sleep at all last night. I wanted to come see you.”
The two stared at each other through the small machine.
One was cautious, while the other was lost in thought.
A moment later, the intercom was interrupted by another call.
The real delivery person had arrived.
“Hello, I’m the delivery person from Xixiang Banquet. Your dinner is here.”
Ruan Sixian opened the door, took the food container, then looked back at the intercom and pressed the button to open the unit entrance door.
“Come up.”
She didn’t close the door, directly carrying the food container to the dining room, arranging the dishes one by one on the table.
Three dishes, one soup, and two bowls of rice.
Did Fu Mingyu think she was a pig?
Just then, Fu Mingyu called.
“Eat and then go to sleep. Don’t do any more problems.”
“Oh.”
Just then, footsteps sounded at the door. Ruan Sixian didn’t turn around and said, “No need to change shoes.”
“Do you have a guest?”
“Mm, my mom is here.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone before he said, “I’ll hang up now. Eat well.”
Putting down her phone, Ruan Sixian picked up her chopsticks and turned around, seeing Dong Xian slowly walk in carrying a food container, looking up and surveying her apartment.
Turning her head and seeing the lavish meal on the table, Dong Xian’s expression turned somewhat awkward.
She walked over, opened the food container, revealing a bowl of soup inside.
“I thought you probably haven’t been sleeping well either, so I made some soup.”
Ruan Sixian held her chopsticks, swallowed half a mouthful of rice, licked the corner of her mouth, and said, “Sit down.”
Dong Xian nodded, sat down as told, and pushed the bowl of soup toward Ruan Sixian.
“This is pigeon soup. Your aunt specially picked out a fresh pigeon early this morning.”
She reached her hand over, her knuckles rough, with cracked marks on her fingertips.
It was an occupational hazard from years of handling paint, something no skincare product could fix.
Seeing Ruan Sixian put down her chopsticks, Dong Xian immediately handed her a spoon.
“Would you like to try it?”
Ruan Sixian didn’t take it, pushing the bowl in front of her away.
“There’s something I want to ask you. We can talk about the rest later.”
Dong Xian awkwardly withdrew the spoon. “Go ahead and ask.”
“What’s your relationship with the owner of the Futuoli Gallery?”
“What?”
Dong Xian was stunned. “Are you talking about Guo Gaoyang?”
Ruan Sixian lowered her eyes and nodded slightly. “Yes.”
“He’s my agent. Why?”
Ruan Sixian said, “I’ll be straightforward. When I was little, I often took shortcuts home through the small path behind Nanxi Lane. You probably didn’t know that, right?”
The mention of “Nanxi Lane” felt too distant, bringing a sudden sense of disorientation.
Dong Xian stared at her blankly. “No, I didn’t.”
“Mm, I knew you had no idea.”
Ruan Sixian picked up her chopsticks again, not to eat but to grip them tightly in her hand. “Every time I went home from there, I saw you getting out of a man’s car several times. That man often gave you gifts. I remember he had a large black mole on his forehead. That’s your agent, isn’t it?”
“Him!”Dong Xian wasn't stupid, and she had a natural sensitivity to such matters. As soon as Ruan Sixian asked, she understood what was implied.
Her face visibly flushed red. "He has a wife and children in England. Are you overthinking this?"
Before Ruan Sixian could speak, she stood up agitatedly. "No wonder you said those strange things at the hospital that day. So that's what you were thinking? Where did your mind go?!"
"Don't get so worked up."
Ruan Sixian felt a headache coming on from her words. "I'm just verifying with you."
"Why are you only asking me now? How many years has it been—almost ten! You're only asking me now, so is this why you never wanted to see me all this time? I really don't know what to say. Could it be that—"
Ruan Sixian suddenly stood up and walked into the kitchen.
Dong Xian followed her in. "Say something!"
"Drink some water first."
Ruan Sixian directly pushed a cup of warm water in front of her. "Calm down and talk properly."
She took the water Ruan Sixian handed her, closed her eyes, and drank it all in one go. It took a long time for her to calm down.
"Alright, I'll talk to you properly."
She put down the cup, turned, walked out of the kitchen, and sat on the sofa.
"I met Guo Gaoyang at an art charity event. I took my students to participate."
"He wanted to sign me, but I kept hesitating. What you saw—him driving me home—was because he insisted on it. I didn’t want your father to know I was in contact with an agency, so I kept it quiet."
"As for the gifts, he was just trying to show sincerity."
Alright.
Ruan Sixian couldn't quite describe how she felt at that moment.
She had held this in for ten years, never telling anyone who asked. Some people never understood why she couldn't accept her parents' divorce.
She thought that no matter how angry she was, protecting Dong Xian's reputation was her last act of preserving her mother's dignity.
So she had silently carried this grievance alone all this time.
Turns out it really was just her own imagination.
She had been acting like a fool.
Seeing Ruan Sixian silent, Dong Xian asked again, "Why are you only asking me now?"
"How was I supposed to ask?"
Ruan Sixian said, "I was only fourteen then. How could I have asked something like that?"
Such matters were beyond the understanding of a middle school student like Ruan Sixian at the time.
It wasn't until a year later, when her parents divorced, that she vaguely began to understand what had been happening back then.
In the following years, Dong Xian traveled everywhere, seemingly extremely busy. She would occasionally come back to see Ruan Sixian once or twice a year, never going home, just waiting at the school gate.
As if she hated the old home.
Back then, from her appearance and attire, Ruan Sixian could sense that Dong Xian was living better and better, while her father's health at home was deteriorating.
He went from being a homeroom teacher to just a Chinese language teacher.
Later, he taught fewer and fewer classes, and the family's financial situation naturally declined.
The contrast seemed to place the adults in opposing positions.
At first, Dong Xian and Ruan Sixian's father could still maintain a superficial peace and exchange a few words.
Later, they didn't even speak anymore.
"Alright." Dong Xian raised her hand, signaling the end of the topic, but her eyes reddened. "You've misunderstood me all these years because of this. I really... feel so terrible..."She walked over to the dining table, picked up the bowl of soup, rubbed her eyes, and said, "Have something to eat first."
Ruan Sixian remained seated by the sofa, unable to pull herself out of her emotions and unwilling to eat anything.
She felt helpless, unsure of what to say.
The two of them stood and sat in silence.
Even with the heating on in the living room, there was no sense of warmth.
As the steam from the food in front of them gradually cooled, Dong Xian’s heart tightened in waves. Choking back tears, she said, "Ruan Ruan, let me spend the New Year with you, okay?"
It had been nearly twelve years since they had stayed up together on New Year’s Eve, set off fireworks, or shared a meal.
Just a little more, and Ruan Sixian would have nodded under the gentle persuasion.
"It was my misunderstanding, and I apologize to you."
She suddenly lifted her chin and continued, "But it’s true that you abandoned me when I was fourteen. It’s also true that you only came to see me five times in four years. And it’s true that my father, upset after learning you got married, went out for a walk and got into a car accident. You have no idea how I grew up after I turned fourteen. How can you expect me to spend a happy New Year with you now, when I lack nothing?"
OpenNovel