Before parting, the two walked down the steps outside the exhibition hall. Jiang Xue took the opportunity to offer a few more words of advice: "From an outsider's perspective, I still suggest that you tell him about those things. It's always better to clear things up than to leave it as a misunderstanding."

Shi Meng paused on the steps.

"With no one to prove it, no one will believe me."

"Whether you believe him or not is up to you, but whether you tell him or not is..."

“I don’t want this.” Shi Meng’s face was half-hidden in his hood, his back view lonely yet stubborn. “If there’s even the slightest chance that he won’t believe me, I won’t say anything.”

Jiang Xue sighed helplessly and followed, "Alright, you have pride and integrity, no wonder you're an artist." Then she changed the subject and took out a piece of paper from her bag, "Invitation to a dinner at the Oriental Hotel on Friday. It's for industry professionals. We hope the artist will honor us with his presence."

Shi Meng glanced at him sideways, her resistance written all over her eyes.

"This is a workday," Jiang Xue said, feigning fierceness. "I've pushed away everything I can, but you're not allowed to refuse any necessary social engagements."

After struggling in silence for a while, Shi Meng finally took one hand out of his pocket and reluctantly accepted the invitation.

Friday arrived in a flash. During that time, Shi Meng had been sketching out a new painting in his studio at home, deciding on the main subject and color scheme. When Jiang Xue called to remind him in the morning, he was still a little dazed and had almost forgotten about it.

After lunch, Jiang Xue personally drove to pick her up. Before going to the hotel, she took Shi Meng to the mall to pick out some clothes.

"You're an art student, how can your fashion sense be so terrible?" Jiang Xue asked the cashier for a paper bag, crumpled Shi Meng's clothes into a ball, and stuffed them inside. "It's unbelievable."

Shi Meng remained silent in the face of this aesthetic "blow," only glancing at the figure reflected in the transparent floor-to-ceiling window before entering the hotel—tall and thin, wearing simple short boots and trousers over a white shirt, with a Klein blue suit jacket over it, which made the exposed part of his neck look very white, and his hair was lower than his earlobes, and although it hadn't been styled for a long time, it didn't look messy.

Just as she was about to see that face, Shi Meng withdrew her gaze and stopped looking upwards.

Jiang Xue was very satisfied with her "masterpiece". As soon as she entered the banquet, she pulled Shi Meng around to introduce him to curators, critics and investors from all walks of life. Whenever she received praise, she would smile and say, "Shi Meng's paintings are as beautiful as others' without being ostentatious. Every line is a masterpiece of ingenuity."

During a break in social interaction, Shi Meng finally had a chance to speak: "Sister Xue, that's too much."

Jiang Xue glared at him: "Advertising is three parts real skill and seven parts hype. Look at that one on the side of the stage, calling herself a 'beautiful painter'. We finally managed to get you out here today so they can see what the word 'beautiful' really means."

Unable to argue with her, Shi Meng took a plate and silently ate her food, unable to get a word in edgewise.

Fu Xuanliao arrived halfway through the banquet.

When he received the invitation with blue background and gold lettering the day before yesterday, his first reaction was to refuse.

"They're all people from the art world, why would I go and join in?"

“Didn’t you learn to draw when you were a child?” Gao Lecheng said matter-of-factly.

"I've only studied it for less than a week in total from childhood to adulthood," Fu Xuanliao frowned. "I still feel nauseous just thinking about the smell of paint."

Gao Lecheng chuckled: "Then why do you keep looking for subjects to draw?"

Fu Xuanliao glanced at him sideways, and the other person immediately fell silent.

After a while, Gao Lecheng picked up the invitation that had been thrown on the table and sighed, "It's okay if I don't go, but it's a pity. I heard that this auction will be for that painting by Shi Mu... what was it called again? It was the one that was bought a long time ago. I heard that the person who collected the painting went bankrupt and was selling off his assets to fill the hole."

And so Fu Xuanliao appeared here.

He is determined to get the painting that he couldn't keep back then due to various obstacles.

Therefore, he endured the tediousness of the first half of the banquet. After being toasted by who-knows-how-many passersby who wanted to strike up a conversation, he finally greeted Gao Lecheng, retreated to a secluded corner, crossed his arms, leaned against the window, and observed the various people under the magnificent crystal chandelier.

This includes Shi Meng, who was dressed in an unfamiliar outfit and dressed in a rather eye-catching manner.

When Fu Xuanliao first saw that splash of blue, he thought he was seeing things. But when he looked again, his eyes were filled with sarcasm.

I had previously heard that this rising star in the oil painting world was very aloof and never participated in social events, but now it seems that's not entirely true.

Shi Meng was seen following behind his agent, so quiet that the word "well-behaved" could be used to describe him. Who would have thought that this person had gone crazy and bit someone just a few days ago, and the teeth marks still haven't faded?

Shi Meng was clearly unaware of how many eyes were watching her. Hiding behind Jiang Xue, she took advantage of their lively conversation, turned around, picked up a small cake, placed it on her plate, cut it with a fork, and ate it bit by bit.

He eats in small bites and chews slowly; from a distance, you can hardly see his cheeks moving. He stares intently at his food, just like when he paints.

I remember him being like this since he was a child. He always ate with his mouth closed, and his movements were very small and quiet, as if he was afraid of being scolded for dropping food scraps on the ground, or as if he was instinctively cherishing food.

Perhaps he was too idle, Fu Xuanliao just watched him finish the cake, thinking to himself that with your current methods and status, no one at home would dare to let you go hungry. He glanced at the glass window and realized that the corners of his lips had been raised at some point, forming a faint arc.

Fu Xuanliao's smile vanished instantly, his face turning extremely grim. He quickly averted his gaze, then turned and walked towards the terrace next to the stairwell, where he stood in the breeze for a while before calming down.

However, after spending so much time together, it's not surprising that the other person has managed to figure out my preferences over the years, and I have gradually learned about their lifestyle habits.

Fu Xuanliao breathed a long sigh of relief, feeling much better.

The terrace on this floor is quite large, extending beyond the central partition and flower bed to the other end of a walkway.

There were many guests at today's banquet, and every now and then some who had drunk too much would come out to get some fresh air to sober up, or chat for a while. So, just as Fu Xuanliao was about to return to the room, he unexpectedly heard his name in the idle chatter coming from the other end.

"Young Master Fu is here too, did you see him?"

"That guy at the bar just now? He's Fu Xuanliao?"

"Yes, he has broad shoulders and long legs like a model, and many people talk to him."

"He's quite handsome... You wouldn't happen to have a crush on him, would you?"

"Don't talk nonsense."

"Even if you like him, it's no use. He's the young master of the Shi family."

"The Shi family? Could it be the Shi family I know?"

"Which Shi family could it be? Back then, that incident caused such a big fuss that the Fu family and the Shi family almost broke off relations."

"Which year? It wasn't during the years I went abroad, was it? Tell me quickly."

...

Fu Xuanliao was forced to listen to some gossip about himself. It's impossible for him to be completely unmoved. However, hearing it from someone else's mouth now that time has passed made him momentarily feel as if he had detached himself and was watching an absurd comedy performance from the perspective of an observer.

The gossips were speaking in hushed tones, making it difficult to hear clearly. Fu Xuanliao filled in the blanks in his mind, then felt ashamed of himself for remembering such a shameful old story so clearly after all this time.

To avoid making a fuss and being mistaken for an eavesdropper, he decided to wait until the two finished talking before leaving. However, the two got carried away and started talking about Shi Meng again.

"Speaking of which, the other main character is also here today."

"You mean that bastard child from the Shi family? Is he the painter who was introduced at the meeting just now?"

"A painter, my foot! Everyone knows he was born to a prostitute. The Shi family wouldn't even let his own mother into the house."

"No wonder, she looks like a vixen."

"I heard that he once stole someone else's painting to enter in a competition and almost won an award."

"Oh, so bad?"

"That person was his half-brother, the real young master of the Shi family..."

Just as the name was about to be revealed, the interior lights blazed on, making the marble floor of the terrace glare brightly.

After the applause subsided, the host, speaking clearly and articulately, announced into the microphone: "The auction is now officially open. Please welcome the first item, an oil painting by the late painter Shi Mu – 'Flame'."

All eyes were drawn to the stage. Fu Xuanliao walked closer and, passing through the crowd, saw the painting that had been missing for many years. He even thought he was still in a dream.

Upon witnessing the painting resurface, Shi Meng's first reaction was to close his eyes.

He wasn't stung by the painting's intense colors; he was simply afraid.

I was terrified. Just hearing the name of the painting made my heart tremble. It felt like my body had been dissected and placed in the center of the hall, receiving contempt and insults coming from all directions.

The host on stage dutifully introduced the work—"The painting is meticulous and natural, ingeniously crafted, and expresses intense emotions with soft brushstrokes... It's as if all the most beautiful words in the world have been used to describe this painting."

The artist also received the highest praise; at least the surrounding conversations reminded Shi Meng of the smug expression on that person's pale face.

The auction then began, and the audience erupted in a cacophony of noise that was nauseating.

Shi Meng told Jiang Xue that he wanted to go outside for some fresh air. As he walked through the bustling crowd and was about to leave, a familiar voice rang in his ears.

One million.

With a loud buzzing sound, Shi Meng looked up and saw Fu Xuanliao, who had just raised his bidding paddle, standing outside the crowd with a solemn expression, like a steadfast guardian, his gaze fixed on the painting, unwilling to look away for even a moment.

Before arriving, no one could have imagined that a banquet intended for socializing would turn into a fierce and contentious struggle.

Experts see the details, while laymen just enjoy the spectacle. In a lively gathering, there are clearly far more people just there for the fun than actual industry insiders.

Therefore, when the painting, titled "Flame," was bid up to three million, the room fell silent; everyone was stunned.

Some people are already secretly speculating whether the painting is benefiting from the artist's death, just like Van Gogh's paintings were ignored during his lifetime but became famous after his death.

Four million.

The continued bidding seemed to confirm this guess, and everyone looked over to see that the bidder was the painter surnamed Shi who had just been about to leave.

Those in the know began to whisper among themselves:

—Wasn't this drawn by his half-brother?

—I didn't realize they had such a good brotherly relationship.

—Look who the other bidder is.

—Wow, a love triangle…

Fu Xuanliao seemed not to hear, his only thought was to acquire the painting.

"Five million," he offered.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a clear voice on the other end replied without hesitation, "Five million five hundred thousand."

Gasps of astonishment rose and fell, for it was truly rare and strange that a painting not by a famous artist could fetch such a high price.

Turning his head to look, Fu Xuanliao's eyes were like fire, concealing burning anger and confusion, which was not extinguished when he touched that cold blue.

He gritted his teeth, raised his paddle, and said in a deep voice, "Six million."

"Six million five hundred thousand," Shi Meng added.

"Seven million."

As the game progressed into the later stages of the seven-digit series, the atmosphere gradually became tense and stalemated. Everyone was forced to stand on end, nervously participating in this sudden battle.

Only Shi Meng remained calm throughout; the Klein blue that symbolized infinity strangely manifested a sense of melancholy on him, and his actions of raising the sign were as mechanical as a pre-programmed sequence.

The struggle brought him no pleasure; to him, the painting was merely proof that he had to obtain it.

Noticing the sharp gaze directed at him, Shi Meng raised his eyes to meet Fu Xuanliao's gaze, held up the number plate, and slowly opened and closed his lips: "Ten million."

A few minutes later, the first painting to be auctioned sold for a high price of ten million. The auction house manager was all smiles as he calculated the commission, and he invited Shi Meng to the backstage reception room as if he were a god of wealth.

The staff went to prepare the contract, leaving only Shi Meng and Jiang Xue inside.

"I think you've lost your mind." Jiang Xue, who had tried everything to stop Shi Meng but failed, was heartbroken. "You didn't tell me before we came that we'd need money today. Do you even have that much cash on hand?"

Shi Meng leaned against the wall, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, as if he were extremely tired. He closed his eyes and said softly, "Yes."

Jiang Xue breathed a sigh of relief, but was still speechless: "Even if you have money, you can't spend it like this. Besides, that painting is clearly yours..."

Before he could finish speaking, there was a loud bang as the door to the reception room was flung open from the outside. A tall man strode in like the wind, grabbed Shi Meng's wrist, pulled him up, and dragged him out without a word.

Shi Meng was already weak all over, and his steps were unsteady as he was dragged along, running wildly. When he was dragged into a dark room, he could still hear Jiang Xue calling anxiously behind him. Then he heard a loud slam of the door closing, followed by the sound of the deadbolt being turned. The world suddenly became quiet.

"Why?" Before Shi Meng could speak, Fu Xuanliao asked first, "Shi Meng, why?"

His voice was low, accompanied by rapid breathing, as if he was suppressing his anger to give the person in front of him a chance to explain.

However, Shi Meng didn't feel there was anything to explain. He staggered two steps to his feet, took a deep breath, and feigned ignorance, asking in return, "Why are you wearing a shirt?"

Because the person you like always wears shirts.

"I don't look good in it?"

Fu Xuanliao had no patience for idle chatter and said gruffly, "I'm asking you, why did you try to take that painting from me?"

Shi Meng gave a mocking smirk: "There's no reason why, if you want it, just take it."

As soon as he finished speaking, a gust of wind swept over his face. When he was grabbed by the neck and pushed against the wall, Shi Meng only had time to let out a muffled groan before the excruciating pain overwhelmed his senses.

Although the two were always at odds and their lovemaking was like a struggle between wild beasts, this was the first time that Fu Xuanliao had used such deadly force to choke her.

Driven by an instinctive will to survive, Shi Meng clung to Fu Xuanliao's arms with both hands, struggling desperately. Unfortunately, the struggle that had just taken place in front of everyone had exhausted his strength, and now he could only struggle in vain.

"Shi Meng." Fu Xuanliao spat out his name viciously, his eyes wide with rage and veins bulging on his arms. "You madman, you madman who steals everything!"

"He seems really angry," Shi Meng thought. "Will he kill me?"

Perhaps he had wanted to kill me for a long time.

As the air dissipated, his breath became weak, and a hoarse, dying sound came from his throat.

It was as if I had fallen into a deserted place, where the sky and earth merged into a vast expanse of white, with nothing but the biting wind beside my ears.

The only thing that is possessiveness is ingrained in their very bones; it is an instinct as fundamental as the will to survive.

“My thing.” Broken words escaped from Shi Meng’s throat. “It is… mine.”

In a daze, I heard a child's innocent voice: "You drew so beautifully."

Now, why don't you praise my drawing skills?

Fu Xuanliao, consumed by rage, was unaware of Shi Meng's thoughts. He gripped Shi Meng's vital point tightly and told him through gritted teeth, word by word, "You...don't...think."

He used his last gaze to stare at the man in front of him. Shi Meng didn't even realize that he was laughing, a laugh that was both mad and desolate.

Trembling fingertips touched the face so close to his, tracing the sharp lines of his features, and in his rapidly unfocused pupils reflected the look of hatred Fu Xuanliao had for him.

Even though he could no longer see clearly, even though no one recognized him, Shi Meng stubbornly kept his eyes wide open and declared to the gods in the void: "Mine...you are mine too."