Chapter 105

Chapter 105

“Do you actually know how to cast spells or something?” Jiang Baichuan finally couldn’t help asking on the way back.

It was one thing for Xia Wanzhi to throw herself into his arms, but had all those people tonight-the ones nicknamed wife-doting maniacs-lost their minds? They had actually worked together so seamlessly to make things easier for Xie Qiyan.

A single guy could not understand.

Xie Qiyan expressed his understanding, then, looking like a benevolent soul, explained, “A proposal is a top-priority event. Those two from the Lu Family, those two from the Qu Family, and your brother-in-law are all married men. They’re men, and they’ve been through it. They know how hard it is to pursue a wife. Besides, a gentleman takes delight in helping others fulfill their wishes.”

After a brief pause, Xie Qiyan made no attempt to hide his delight and teased, “You wouldn’t understand even if I told you. Come discuss it with me after you get a girlfriend.”

Jiang Baichuan: “…”

Of everyone tonight, he had suffered the deepest wounds.

There was still a long way to go. Jiang Baichuan took a deep breath to calm his terrible mood and found a new topic. “Does Little Sister Xia know about your proposal gift?”

Xie Qiyan was reporting to Xia Wanzhi that he would be home in twenty minutes. Only after a while did he answer, “If she knew, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

Forget it. A single guy had no right to speak to someone who kept flaunting his relationship.

To avoid getting hurt again, Jiang Baichuan kept his mouth shut the whole way, too lazy to talk.

Xie Qiyan, on the other hand, was extremely busy, sending messages to his girlfriend the entire time.

Jiang Baichuan felt miserable.

Having a girlfriend was so nice.

He wanted one too.

In the past, he had been detached from worldly desires and at peace with everything. But after meeting Yun Li, a longing had gradually taken root deep in his heart.

It wasn’t that he wanted a girlfriend.

He wanted Yun Li.

He wanted Yun Li to be his girlfriend.

He wasn’t particularly surprised by Xie Qiyan and Xia Wanzhi’s lightning-fast progress. Back then, his own cousin and Lu Beiting had only met a few times before getting their marriage certificate. Before registering, she had been ten thousand times unwilling, but by the end of the second year after getting married, she was pregnant.

So once people fell in love, anything was possible.

A good man would seize the opportunity and keep the person he loved firmly by his side, leaving no chance for anyone else.

At that thought, Jiang Baichuan’s gaze darkened.

He couldn’t wait any longer either.

By the time Xie Qiyan returned to Lanting Bieyuan, it was almost ten o’clock. He thought Xia Wanzhi would be in his place, but when he opened the door and went in, he only saw Changsheng lazily emerge from the cat room, glance at him perfunctorily, then go back to sleep.

He couldn’t be bothered with Xia Changsheng either. He put the Heart of the Kingdom in the study and locked it away, changed his clothes, then went over to find Xia Wanzhi.

Xia Wanzhi was still painting at this hour.

For Xie Qiyan’s commission, she had already reached the sixteenth portrait.

What she was painting now was Yao Qin at forty-two.

Xia Wanzhi was so focused that this time, she truly didn’t hear Xie Qiyan open the door and come in.

Xie Qiyan silently stood behind her, his burning gaze fixed on the paintings. The buoyant mood he had just been in gradually settled into calm, then slowly sank.

This might not necessarily be what Yao Qin had truly looked like, but it had to be at least eighty percent close.

That unique aura belonging to Yao Qin was still rendered vividly even at forty-two. He knew his mother had been an exceptionally beautiful woman, and he had once imagined in his mind what she would look like now.

But imagination was, in the end, hazy.

Yet at this very moment, that hazy fantasy had been given concrete form.

The Yao Qin at every age under Xia Wanzhi’s brush was even more real and vivid than he had imagined.

Standing before the paintings, Xie Qiyan felt as if he had stepped into them-as if Yao Qin had never left him, as if he had witnessed his mother slowly grow older with his own eyes.
He studied the paintings seriously, and just as seriously watched Xia Wanzhi, cautious and focused, ink in the outlines of the portrait.

His palm curled slightly. Xie Qiyan’s thoughts shifted away from himself and onto Xia Wanzhi.

He had never believed in fate. He did not believe in heaven opening its eyes, in so-called destiny, and still less in the favor of the gods.

He only believed in himself.

If gods truly had mercy, they would never have torn apart the happy life they once had.

If gods truly existed, he would never have been reduced to a bastard everyone spat on, and Yao Qin would never have been forced into a dead end.

If gods could truly hear what was in his heart, they should not have let his hopes come to nothing.

He had searched for Yao Qin for so long. So very long.

Twenty-one years, and he had never once seen her.

The gods had failed to bring Yao Qin before him.

But Xia Wanzhi could.

Every one of these paintings had been created by Xia Wanzhi.

He had seen his mother. He had watched the changes in her face, her expression, her bearing, as though Yao Qin were truly standing right in front of him.

There were no gods in this world.

But there was Xia Wanzhi.

He did not believe in gods.

But at this very moment-

Xia Wanzhi was the only god he worshipped.

From the moment she had first seen him as a child and felt sorry for him, she had been destined to become his savior.

His Little Bodhisattva.

The way Xie Qiyan looked at her was gentle, deep with affection.

He regretted knocking over the milk she had handed him back then.

What he had knocked over was not merely milk. It had been Xia Wanzhi’s concern for him, her kindness, her sympathy. He had also severed the peaceful, amicable beginning they might have had.

But back then, he had not been worthy of someone as wonderful as Xia Wanzhi.

If not for that incident, perhaps he would not even have had the chance to bicker with Xia Wanzhi.

He was deeply sorry that he had made Xia Wanzhi hate him, and he was frustrated with himself for having misunderstood her kindness because of his own psychological hang-ups.

After they grew up, his return to the country and reunion with her had been inevitable.

The only accident was the feelings that had quietly begun to grow.

Xia Wanzhi finished the sixteenth painting. Only when she set down her brush did she realize Xie Qiyan had appeared behind her at some point.

Judging from his expression, he must have been standing there for quite a while.

Xie Qiyan came back to himself. His gaze met hers, full of tenderness. He leaned down and untied the paint-stained apron from her body, then massaged the wrist of the hand she used to paint, asking with endless care, “Are you tired?”

Xia Wanzhi leaned toward him, resting her chin lightly near his shoulder, and said with a smile, “I am.”

Xie Qiyan smiled and kneaded her arm, then rubbed her soft, slender waist, making Xia Wanzhi laugh as she tried to dodge him.

He loved Xia Wanzhi’s honesty.

Her love for him had never been roundabout or evasive.

“Sit for a while?” Xie Qiyan affectionately ruffled the top of her hair.

Xia Wanzhi shook her head. “I want to take a shower.”

A shower was not something they could do together, so Xie Qiyan asked if she was hungry, intending to make her a late-night snack.

Xia Wanzhi shook her head. “I’m not hungry. I want to shower first.”

When she was painting, getting paint on herself did not matter, but once she was done, Xia Wanzhi became especially particular about being clean.

Xie Qiyan had thought about so much just now that his eyes were brimming with absolute love. Both mentally and physically, he did not want to leave Xia Wanzhi for even a moment. He only wanted to stay glued to her.

Seeing how reluctant he was to part, Xia Wanzhi laughed and teased, “President Xie, want to join me?”

A dangerous glint flashed through Xie Qiyan’s eyes. He pressed a hand over her smiling lips, forcibly shutting her mouth, and said through gritted teeth, “There will be a day when we do.”

Every day after he had the legal right to take up the post.

Then she would have plenty of chances to cry.