Jing Yi's villa wasn’t particularly large, but its interior decoration leaned towards an elegant and understated style. The simplicity of the design made the oil paintings on the walls stand out even more.
From the moment he entered, Director Xu noticed these paintings. Among them were landscapes, but most featured Jing Yi herself, as well as images of her racing.
Director Xu found it a bit strange. After all, in his impression, Jing Yi wasn’t the type to enjoy showcasing herself so prominently.
The landscape paintings were beautiful, and the ones depicting the racetrack offered a refreshing perspective.
“Who painted those?” Director Xu couldn’t resist his curiosity and asked.
Jing Yi turned her gaze toward the paintings, a faint dimple appearing on her cheek, as if filled with a sense of satisfaction.
Jing Zejun, standing beside her, answered, “Those were painted by her fiancé, Shen Huaichu.”
The fact that Shen Huaichu could paint came as a surprise to everyone in the Jing family. But then again, considering that his aunt, Shen Tu, was a renowned painter, it wasn’t entirely unexpected that her nephew might have some artistic skills.
Still, painting seemed somewhat out of character for Shen Huaichu.
Anyone hearing about this for the first time would be shocked, just like Director Xu, who widened his eyes in disbelief. “Shen Huaichu painted these?!” He looked back at the paintings, his eyes filled with astonishment.
No wonder Jing Yi appeared in almost every one of them.
[Wait, who painted them?!]
[I even thought Jing Yi commissioned someone to paint them, but never imagined it was Shen Huaichu.]
[I thought Jing Yi was like Jing Zeqian, enjoying having self-portraits at home.]
[When did you ever see Jing Zeqian’s house?]
[I haven’t, but I just assumed he’d be that kind of person.]
[Poor Jing Zeqian, his reputation is taking a hit.]
[No, the real shocker here is that Shen Huaichu, the CEO of Huarui Group, can paint oil paintings?!]
[Fun fact: Shen Huaichu’s aunt is Shen Tu, a famous oil painting master in the country.]
[Having portraits of your lover at home, painted by your own hand—that’s so romantic!]
While netizens were still immersed in the romantic story of Jing Yi and Shen Huaichu, Jing Yi herself was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable.
Oh no, Shen Huaichu’s dignified image is about to take another hit.
......
Jing Yi hadn’t known about Shen Huaichu’s painting skills much earlier than Jing Zejun and the others. She had only learned about it from Gu Lin.
That day, Gu Lin had been acting extremely mysterious, constantly keeping an eye on Shen Huaichu’s movements, which piqued Jing Yi’s curiosity.
“...That room over there will definitely give you goosebumps.”
Jing Yi stole a glance. She had been to Shen Huaichu’s house several times, and the place Gu Lin was pointing to was just a guest room, wasn’t it?
Gu Lin was still sneaking looks at Shen Huaichu. “It used to be a guest room, but after my brother returned from treatment, it was completely transformed.”
Although, what was with this secretive atmosphere?
Jing Yi glanced at Shen Huaichu, who wasn’t far away, and instinctively lowered her voice. “So, what’s in there now?” Gu Lin replied mysteriously, “It’s my brother’s masterpiece exhibition room!”
Masterpiece? What kind of masterpiece?
Jing Yi frowned. Why couldn’t Gu Lin just explain everything at once?
Instead, Gu Lin acted all profound, telling her she had to see it for herself to fully experience the shock and goosebumps. He even promised to distract Shen Huaichu for her.
Wasn’t it wrong to sneak a peek at someone else’s secret? Even as fiancés, shouldn’t they respect some boundaries?
Without hesitation, Jing Yi said, “Alright! Make sure you keep him occupied!” She climbed the stairs and, while Shen Huaichu wasn’t looking, opened the door.
That day, Jing Yi saw the mysterious room Gu Lin had mentioned. She didn’t feel the goosebumps Gu Lin had promised, but her heart softened, feeling as if it had caved in.
She stood at the doorway when Shen Huaichu hurried over, a hint of fear hidden in his eyes. He didn’t even have time to scold Gu Lin, his entire focus on Jing Yi’s reaction.
Looking at Shen Huaichu, Jing Yi smiled, her eyes curving into crescents.
“Gu Lin! No peeking!”
With that, she wrapped her arms around Shen Huaichu’s neck, pressing her lips to his. They were slightly cool, but that didn’t matter.
Gu Lin: Ugh, yet another overly affectionate fiancé couple!
......
After receiving Jing Yi’s ‘tacit approval,’ Shen Huaichu became more ‘open’ about his hobby.
At the racetrack again, on the same viewing stand, Jing Zeqian glanced at Shen Huaichu beside him, his expression a mix of complexity and exasperation.
He had always thought Shen Huaichu’s ‘illness’ hadn’t fully healed, and now he seemed to have gone completely ‘mad.’
Like right now, holding an oil paintbrush and painting? At a racetrack?
What kind of habit was this?
Jing Zeqian leaned over to take a look. Surprisingly, the painting wasn’t bad. He took another glance—seems like Shen Huaichu hadn’t been idle during his treatment.
One more look, and he realized it was a great way to pass the time. By the time he finished a painting, the race would probably be over.
Shen Huaichu: “...Second Brother, do you need something?”
The subtext was clear: If you don’t have anything important, kindly leave and stop bothering me.
Jing Zeqian pretended not to understand and instead asked curiously, “You can paint? When did you learn that?” Others nearby also pricked up their ears, equally curious.
Although they disapproved of Jing Zeqian’s nosiness, they couldn’t help but want to know the answer themselves.
Shen Huaichu wasn’t oblivious to their curiosity. He sighed inwardly, put down his brush, and resignedly answered.
“Around four or five years old, I don’t remember the exact time.” After all, it had been so long. His memories of learning oil painting were mostly tied to the arguments between his father and his aunt, Shen Tu.
After his parents passed away, he hadn’t thought of picking it up again. But during that dark period, he needed an outlet, something to hold onto, or he might not have made it through.
Jing Zeqian was surprised, looking Shen Huaichu up and down. “I thought you learned it during the time you were gone.” Shen Huaichu fell silent. Aside from Jing Yi, Jing Zeqian was the only one who would so bluntly bring up his ‘disappearance.’
But did Jing Zeqian even realize that he had gone away for treatment, not for a vacation?
“...I’m not that talented.” If it weren’t for the hours he had put in as a child, he probably would have forgotten most of it by now.
The others finally understood—Shen Huaichu’s aunt, Shen Tu, was an oil painter, so it wasn’t so surprising that he could paint.
But if Shen Huaichu were to ask his aunt for her opinion, she would probably criticize his work. Not that it mattered, though, since his audience consisted of only one person.
Shen Huaichu looked at the figure in the painting, wearing a helmet, his deep eyes filled with tenderness.
But of course, there was someone who couldn’t read the room. “What are you staring at? You need to finish this before Jing Yi’s race starts, right? If you have time, how about painting me too?”
Shen Huaichu: ...No, thanks.
“I don’t need all the details or background. Just paint me, okay? Like, just...”
Jing Zeqian was already imagining himself immortalized in a painting, while Shen Huaichu felt completely numb.
He regretted it. He should have taken this secret to his grave.
In the end, Lin Ruiqing couldn’t stand it anymore and dragged Jing Zeqian away.
