“Don’t hurt your hand.”
The experience cultural product designed for enthusiasts was only entry-level difficulty.
The painting heart had just one large notch in total, and it was patched up in no time.
Liang Jingchuan asked Lan Yan to check it.
She ran her fingers over it, feeling the thickness of the mend. “Pretty good.”
“Really?” Liang Jingchuan looked at her.
“Is there any need to lie to you? It’s not like I’m trying to trick a senior year student into choosing a major.”
Trick.
Liang Jingchuan silently repeated the word, his lips curving slightly. Then he said, “The next step is…”
“Lay on new rice paper.”
Lan Yan pulled over the nearby material packet. As she rummaged through it, someone approached from across the table.
Liang Jingchuan looked up.
Chen Boyu rested his palms on the edge of the table and smiled. “How come you two are hiding over here?”
Liang Jingchuan paused for a second before saying, “It’s pretty fun. You should give it a try.”
Chen Boyu smiled. “I’ve tried it. My hands are too clumsy for this.”
Liang Jingchuan glanced up. “When?”
Chen Boyu said, “A while back. I went to the mounting room to hang out with Yanyan.”
At that moment, someone emerged from the kitchen, smiling as they announced that the food was ready to serve. They would probably need to clear the dining table.
Chen Boyu had invited the head chef from his favorite restaurant to do off-site catering. The kitchen was full of the chef’s team.
Chen Boyu nodded and asked Liang Jingchuan, “Is it fixed yet?”
Liang Jingchuan replied flatly, “Not yet.”
Lan Yan glanced at Liang Jingchuan and said, “Wait five minutes. Once the rice paper is on, it’ll be about done.”
Chen Boyu said “Sure” and turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll go check on the food.”
This blind box contained a replica of the Song dynasty Wu Bing’s silk-colored Lotus Emerging from Water, not too large at around thirty centimeters, so it didn’t take much time to work on.
The tool kit came with glue, which definitely wasn’t as good as what Lan Yan and her team made themselves, but since it was about the experience, it would do.
Lan Yan poured the glue into a bowl, added water to make a glue solution, took a dry towel to absorb the excess moisture from the back of the repaired painting heart, picked up a flat brush, dipped it in the glue solution, and brushed it onto the back.
After a couple of strokes, she handed the flat brush to Liang Jingchuan. “Your turn.”
Liang Jingchuan took the brush and brushed back and forth from left to right, just as she had demonstrated. “Like this?”
“Yeah.”
After two coats of glue solution, Lan Yan took the single sheet of rice paper that held the painting heart and placed it over the back. She picked up a bristle brush and applied it to the paper. “Start from the center and brush outward in a rice-character pattern. Don’t press too hard…”
Lan Yan explained the key points as she worked, brushing a few times before handing the rest to Liang Jingchuan.
He wasn’t practiced, but he was bold and meticulous, so he picked it up quickly.
The bristle brush glided over the paper with a faint rustling sound.
Liang Jingchuan’s voice blended in, not very clear. “Does Chen Boyu come often?”
Lan Yan made out his words. “Huh?”
“To your workplace.”
“Used to.”
Lan Yan felt a bit odd.
The tension between her and Liang Jingchuan had eased somewhat as she grew older, but after the recent late-night snack incident, it was barely at the level of “I won’t offend others unless they offend me first.” They were far from peaceful coexistence, let alone brotherly-sisterly harmony—that very thought gave her goosebumps.
Under these circumstances, for Liang Jingchuan to suddenly ask that question felt very strange… It wasn’t offensive, just puzzling, since she couldn’t fathom his motive.
He had probably just mentioned it casually following Chen Boyu’s words, and she didn’t want to probe his intentions too seriously.
Liang Jingchuan didn’t say anything more.
Once the rice paper was on, Lan Yan took the bristle brush and made a few final adjustments.
The blind box didn’t come with full-color tools, which was too advanced for beginners anyway—no need.
“That’s about it.” Lan Yan looked around, trying to find a spot to hang it up to dry.
“I’ll take it back with me,” Liang Jingchuan said.
Lan Yan looked at him. “It’s a printed painting. No collection value.”
“I know.” Liang Jingchuan glanced at her too. “Where does it need to dry?”
Lan Yan thought for a moment. “A wooden board door should work. Brush some glue water on the excess edges, don’t put it in direct sunlight, keep it ventilated, and once it’s dry, just peel it off.”
Liang Jingchuan nodded.
Lan Yan rolled up the repaired painting, along with the damp skin paper that had protected the front. “Grab some plastic wrap.”
Footsteps headed to the kitchen and returned shortly.
Liang Jingchuan pulled out a length of plastic wrap, measured it to the right size, and cut it.
Once wrapped in the plastic, Lan Yan placed the painting back into the box printed with the city museum and Mend Orchid Studio logos.
“Do you still need the tools?” Lan Yan asked.
Liang Jingchuan glanced over. “Keep them.”
They all needed cleaning, so Lan Yan put the used flat brushes, hairbrushes, bristle brushes, and such into a large glass bowl filled with water.
As she went to pick it up, Liang Jingchuan took it from her. “I’ll do it.”
Lan Yan didn’t argue and packed the remaining awl, tweezers, scalpel, hoof knife, and other dangerous tools into a separate tool bag. Finally, there was an empty large ziplock bag left for the cleaned tools.
Lan Yan moved everything to the sideboard, cleared the dining table, and went to wash her hands.
The island sink and kitchen sink were both occupied by the chef team.
Chen Boyu’s apartment was a top-floor duplex. The lower level was often used to entertain friends or hold impromptu meetings. For convenience, there was a double-sink vanity outside the guest bathroom.
Liang Jingchuan was there cleaning the tools.
As footsteps approached, he glanced over.
Lan Yan turned on the faucet and held her hands under it.
Liang Jingchuan’s gaze lingered on her fingers.
He had once asked Liang Xiaoxia why she named him that. Was it because his birth chart lacked water? Liang Xiaoxia had answered half-jokingly, yeah, yeah, so your name is full of water.
Then why was he the only one who couldn’t flow through her, like all the other water?
“Why are you staring?” Lan Yan spoke up, her tone not very friendly. “You didn’t have to wait in line today.”
Didn’t he?
Liang Jingchuan withdrew his gaze, a faint smile in his downcast eyes.
Once everything was cleaned, they returned to the dining room. The chef team had started serving the food, and everyone took their seats one after another.
Chen Boyu’s dinner tables were always lively. Ever since their student days, he had easily gathered a group of like-minded friends around him.
There was no deliberate scheming to it, and it wasn’t just his money power. Some people just had that knack. It could even be considered a talent—otherwise, how could someone like Luo Shan, a top student, be persuaded to join a startup team?
After dinner came cake-cutting and making wishes. Chen Boyu was usually carefree about this part, but today he was uncharacteristically serious.
Once the cake was eaten, they organized card games and board games for entertainment.
A friend had something urgent and wanted to say goodbye to Chen Boyu but couldn’t find him, so they asked Lan Yan to pass on the message.
Lan Yan looked around and spotted Chen Boyu on the terrace separated by glass doors.
She pushed open the glass door. Chen Boyu was on the phone and turned at the sound.
Not wanting to disturb him, she started to retreat, but he walked over to her.
He hadn’t hung up yet. She heard him say to the other end, “…Been busy lately. I won’t see big bro off to America—you pass it on for me. Wish him and Big Sis-in-Law all the best… No hard feelings, no need for that… Really don’t need his help, don’t tell him… Alright, alright, take care of yourself and Dad too. Eat on time… Okay, I’m hanging up.”
He locked his phone and stopped in front of her.
Lan Yan asked, “Your mom?”
“Yeah.”
“Actually, even without his investment, you could still use his connections. He probably wouldn’t refuse.”
Chen Boyu gave a wry smile. “Last time I told you that as long as the goal is achieved, emotions don’t matter—that was wrong. I apologize.”
Lan Yan shook her head, indicating she didn’t mind.
“I’m just stuck on the emotional side right now… Of course I know using big bro’s connections would make it twice as easy with half the effort, but I want to try on my own first. Can you understand?”
“Sure.” Lan Yan teased, “A belated teenage rebellion, huh?”
Chen Boyu smiled too.
The terrace lights were off, offering a view of the riverfront skyline. A warm night breeze blew in, and Lan Yan gazed in its direction.
Chen Boyu watched her for a moment, then pocketed his phone in his slacks. He extended a hand to Lan Yan. “Dance?”
“Here?”
“Yeah.”
“No music.”
“I’ll hum?”
Chen Boyu took Lan Yan’s hand and pulled her close.
Their first date out had been at a restaurant in South City that had been open for over twenty years. The owner was a Deng Lijun fan, and the place always played her songs.
At one point when they weren’t talking, the speakers had played Forget Him.
Now, Chen Boyu hummed that tune. They stepped without much rhythm, and Lan Yan stepped on his foot three times.
They both laughed.
Chen Boyu stopped humming, took a step forward, pulled Lan Yan into his arms, and whispered, “Know what I wished for?”
“Hm?”
“Someday, I’m going to take you to ring the bell at Nasdaq.”