Chapter 30

The sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains and fell dappled onto the bed sheets.

When Zou Ping woke up, it was already noon. She was stunned for a moment before she realized that she had not fallen asleep on the sofa.

Last night, she talked with Tang Yuchuan for so long that she felt sleepy unconsciously.

Then why was she in bed?

The answer was almost self-evident. She imagined Tang Yuchuan picking her up and gently placing her on the bed, and her heart warmed slightly.

The phone on the bedside table lit up with unread messages.

—There’s porridge in the pot. I’ll fill my stomach when I get up.

——I went to the company.

——Don't worry, I will find out as soon as possible: why did your father come to the capital, and whether your mother is really sick.

Finally, it is still a firm promise.

Zou Ping stared at the words, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly. The warmth was quiet, yet it settled peacefully in her heart.

She didn't go to eat porridge immediately, but went into the studio.

The air was still filled with the familiar smell of turpentine, pungent but calming to her heart.

She had expected a nightmare last night.

That kind of recurring dream: she chased her mother, but could not catch her, and her mother's back disappeared in the dream.

But she herself didn't expect that she slept soundly all night.

She pulled back the heavy canvas, her palette knife slashing across it, leaving thick streaks. Deep blue, inky black, and leaden gray, haphazardly blended together, resembled the nightmares and shadows that had haunted her for years. Subconsciously, she spread the layers across the canvas, a vast expanse of dark, oppressive, heavy color that seemed to engulf the world.

But after pressing the first stroke, she paused, an instinctive resistance welling up in her heart.

She changed her brush and dipped it in bright orange. The color was thick and sticky as it fell, yet it stubbornly held out a patch of light in the center of the canvas. She thought of last night, in the dim living room, the small nightlight illuminating Tang Yuchuan's face.

Orange is not an illusion, it is real.

She began to layer colors repeatedly, interweaving orange and darkness, blurring the edges but never swallowing them up. She wasn't depicting a person's features, but rather a presence, silent and composed, like Tang Yuchuan, who had sat beside her last night.

Each stroke carries weight, and the thick oil paint solidifies on the canvas, like the shadow pressing down on her heart, being lifted up bit by bit.

Her movements gradually became smoother, almost with a gentle obsession. Dark blue, brown, and cold gray intertwined at the edges, while the orange in the center grew brighter and brighter, so bright that it made one breathe more peacefully.

She stepped back and stared silently at the unfinished painting.

The world on the canvas is heavy, but because of that little light, it has warmth.

The air was filled with the smell of turpentine, thick and sticky, which seemed to stretch time and slow down her breathing.

Zou Ping put down the palette knife and moved closer to the window. The sunlight shone through the gray gauze curtains onto the floor, breaking into mottled geometric patterns.

Her gaze drifted away following the light spot, as if looking for some continuation beyond the canvas.

In the office building, sunlight poured in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the pile of documents and half a cup of cold coffee on the table.

Tang Yuchuan sat in a chair, his fingers tapping on the keyboard, the sound clear and rhythmic in the empty office.

The phone screen lit up and the caller ID showed: Tan Jing.

His finger hovered over the screen, pausing slightly.

"Tang Yuchuan, I'm awake." The voice on the phone was soft, yet it carried a certain silent tension. Like the slowly surging current in the deep sea, it was so quiet it could be suffocating, yet it could also draw you into a whirlpool.

He frowned and subconsciously clenched the corner of the table with his fingertips.

"...Is there something wrong?" His tone was not loud, but it seemed as if he was suppressing the fluctuations in his heart.

"Yeah. I want to see you." Tan Jing responded softly on the other end of the phone. Her tone was calm, but there was a weight that could not be ignored, like an undercurrent beneath the waves.

Tang Yuchuan leaned back, staring at the sunlight outside the window, feeling complicated. He didn't know how to face her. Ever since she inexplicably gave up their relationship and chose to be his father's lover, he didn't know how to face her.

Over the past decade, they had countless opportunities to meet, but he always chose to avoid them.

He felt that their relationship was not suitable for them to meet. It would be better for both of them if they didn't meet.

This will not change because of my father's death.

But... she had just been hospitalized after a failed suicide attempt and had just woken up. Her father had passed away, and she had no other relatives in this world. Was it a bit too much to just ignore her like this? Tang Yuchuan was in a dilemma.

He held his breath and spoke slowly: "I'm busy now. You just woke up, so you should have a good rest first. Ask Aunt Wu to make you something to eat, okay? I'll go to the hospital to see you when I have time."

"No. I don't want to wait." There was a slight laugh from the other end of the phone. There was calmness in the smile, but also a hint of sharpness, like an undercurrent in the sea, dangerously calm.

Tang Yuchuan's hand holding the phone trembled slightly, and his lips were tightly pursed.

"...Okay. I'll come find you now." He finally responded in a low voice, his voice as if suppressed in his chest.

After hanging up the phone, the office was almost silent.

Tang Yuchuan put his phone on the table, his fingers paused for a moment, then he stood up and took the coat on the back of the chair.

The lights in the corridor were too bright, reflecting into his eyes, but they could not dispel the darkness between his eyebrows.

Going downstairs and through the lobby, the sunlight shines through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows, trailing a long path behind me.

The car door closed, shutting out the noise outside. Inside the car, only the engine's hum remained.

Miao Zhan was flipping through some information in the passenger seat, as if carefully considering his words. He waited until the driver drove onto the main road before speaking, "Mr. Tang, I've found some clues about Miss Zou's parents."

Tang Yuchuan leaned back in his chair, his brows lowered, as if to signal him to continue.

"Her father has been seen by quite a few people recently, and his whereabouts aren't exactly secretive. Some have seen him visiting a few fellow villagers, but they were just drinking, playing cards, and borrowing money. Based on previous investigations, there's nothing unusual about him."

He paused, lowering his voice, "Old Kou treated me to a drink, and I chatted with him today. From what he said, I'm afraid he wants to stay in the capital for a long time. He hinted that his daughter is living well here, which means... he wants to rely on her to make some more money."

Tang Yuchuan tapped his knee lightly with his fingertips, but there was no response.

For a moment, Miao Zhan was a little confused about Tang Yuchuan's thoughts, so he tentatively asked, "Do you want me to find someone to handle it?"

Tang Yuchuan shook his head. "Not for now. Let Koulun keep an eye on him. Don't alert him. Tell me immediately if anything happens. Focus on seeing if he's in contact with anyone. We've investigated him before, and he hasn't left the county in all these years. I have a feeling his sudden trip to Beijing might not be a spur of the moment decision."

"Understood." Miao Zhan liked Tang Yuchuan's clear instructions the most and responded crisply. "Also, there's some progress on Zou Ping's mother's case. However, we haven't been able to find her yet. We only know that she has a medical record at the Sixth Hospital. She has liver cancer, in the early stages, and her condition is controllable."

Tang Yuchuan's eyelashes trembled, as if they were being stroked by something.

He leaned back in his chair, raised his hand and rubbed his brow, but his tone remained steady: "Early stage is a good thing. Find the person and find a way to arrange treatment as soon as possible. The Sixth Hospital has limited conditions, so don't send him there. Go to Renji and find Lu Zhe."

"I understand." Miao Zhan agreed again neatly.

The car fell silent for a moment, leaving only the sound of the engine.

The light and shadow outside the window passed by frame by frame, falling between Tang Yuchuan's eyebrows, making him look heavier.

He lowered his eyes and closed them, as if to hide his emotions. After a moment, he opened them and said in a low voice, "I'll be there when we get to Ruixin Hospital. Don't follow me. Go and keep an eye on the price negotiations with the battery supplier. I'm a little worried about how He Riying handles this kind of thing."

"Yes." Miao Zhan nodded slightly. Then he added, "The price negotiations with the battery supplier must be concluded tonight, and I've arranged to deliver the government approval materials this afternoon. Do you want me to leave a video link for you?"

Tang Yuchuan's eyebrows didn't move, but he lowered his voice very low: "No need. You make the decision yourself. If it can be finalized, then finalize it. Keep the policy stable and postpone the press conference for a week."

"I understand." Miao Zhan responded and closed the document.

Miao Zhan glanced at Tang Yuchuan and noticed that his brows were slightly furrowed.

The sunlight shone through the car window onto his profile, revealing his distinct contours and sharp jawline, making his facial features three-dimensional and clean.

His face was slightly paler than usual, his lips tightly pursed, and the slight shadows at the corners of his eyes made his already deep eyes even sharper. His long eyelashes cast a soft shadow under his slightly closed eyelids, and his breathing was steady, but with a hint of suppressed tension.

"Mr. Tang, would you like to close your eyes and rest for a while?" Miao Zhan asked carefully, his tone carrying subtle concern. "It'll still be a while before we get to the hospital. I estimate it'll take fifteen or sixteen minutes."

Tang Yuchuan responded with "hmm" and then gently closed his eyes.

In fact, he also felt that he should take a break. He spent almost the entire night yesterday on the sofa and didn't sleep much. His physical condition has been poor recently. Catering for some sleep in the car seemed to be the most appropriate thing to do at the moment, but his mind was not calm at all.

Tan Jing's voice echoed repeatedly in his mind, overlapping with the memories of the past. That familiar, dangerous calmness tightened the soft spot in his heart.

Even if you separate from someone you've loved for nearly twenty years, some memories and feelings will never completely disappear.

The sound was like a tiny thunder, quiet, yet exploding deep within his heart. Every time a subtle memory flashed through his mind, he could feel his chest tighten.

Zou Ping presented another paradox: he liked her, yet felt indebted and guilty.

The initial help was well-intentioned, but also included Gu Xing's guidance. He allowed her to get to know him, but also tore open the cracks in trust between them, even though she didn't know anything yet.

He liked Zou Ping's eyes and admired her sensitivity and understanding of colors, as if he could see the pulse of another world in her paintings.

He once said that when she painted, she resembled Tan Jing, or rather, Tan Jing from more than a decade ago. This wasn't due to any emotional connection, but rather because on canvas, he saw a similar starting point, a similar focus on copying details, and a similarly thorough application of talent and technique. Later, he saw another similar progression: soul flowing through the colors, emotion breathing through the brushstrokes, as if the colors themselves spoke to the heart.

When he closed his eyes for a moment, Tang Yuchuan felt as if he had set up a layer of protection for himself, trying to keep a distance from these two complicated emotions, but that thin barrier could not block the waves in his heart.

Every breath seemed to test the boundaries, and every heartbeat reminded him that some emotions could never be easily sorted out.