The wind was still throughout the twelfth lunar month.
Chen Jianfang clearly heard the sarcasm in Xianjin's words.
He could only keep silent and lower his eyes.
Just like the cold tea, just like standing outside the shop in Jing County at night, just like his tossing and turning mood and hesitation over gains and losses, just like Xianjin's name in the Chen family tree, just like... this painting.
He didn't know how to explain it, let alone where to start.
The three-year mourning period will soon be over, and he will surface from the bottom of the leisurely water. The mourning period for his father is like an oil-paper umbrella held over his head on a rainy day. Under the umbrella, he can use sadness as an excuse to do all kinds of extraordinary things that he would not dare to do, would not do, and could not do in normal times - such as breaking into a private residence at night, waiting all night with vegetarian noodle soup, and allowing himself to get close to that dazzling halo.
Three years are about to expire.
The autumn examination is about to begin.
His life will return to being dull, lonely... a stagnant pool of other people's hopes.
The rules that are familiar to the world are like shackles that are imposed on us.
While numbly putting on the handcuffs and shackles, he only hoped that the ripples on the stagnant water could stay a little longer, even longer.
After a few moments, Chen Jianfang slowly loosened his clenched fist, his fingers numb, and spoke softly, "Mother doesn't know that I bought the painting back. She is still immersed in the joy of selling the painting. Mother is still happy. The hidden danger was nipped in the bud, and no one was disappointed. Isn't this enough?"
Xianjin took a few deep breaths, lowered his head and paced back and forth, clenched his hands into fists, and deliberately lowered his voice, "Yes, yes, yes! You are the best! You weigh the pros and cons - you look at the overall situation - everyone else is drunk but you are sober..."
"But do you know that you paid a higher price to buy back the painting from the eldest wife? This matter is embarrassing for your mother!"
There are many ways to solve this problem.
Let's not talk about whether the painting can be sold, let's just talk about how to save the impact when the matter is done...
Is it through negotiation that we get it back?
Or should we ask the first lady to use a pen name instead of her real name?
Or blur the time of painting?
Of all the solutions, he chose the one that revealed gaze and arrogance!
No matter which solution is chosen, at least the first wife Duan should be informed in advance, right? After all, it is her painting, her idea, and her decision, right?
Instead of using the banner of "don't take risks" and "don't stand under a dangerous wall", let others dispose of the hard work of the first wife Duan at will!
This is disrespect at its root!
If we dig deeper, we will find that this is the Hopeful Star's "believe in me" condescending attitude at work - his opinions and ideas are superior and correct than those of others he disagrees with, so he can make decisions on behalf of others.
Just like that herbal tea.
But in this world, not everything he thinks is good is good; not everything he recognizes as the truth is the truth.
Everyone has ideas, preferences, emotions, dreams, goals, and the courage to fight for them - it is not just you, your beliefs, your ideals, and your cognition that are noble.
Xianjin spent most of her life lying in bed in her previous life. She was forced to give up due to the disease. When her body and energy could no longer support her ideals, she could only give up and pretend that she didn't care.
This life was given to her by chance, and she can live it again. Even if her decision is childish and arrogant, it is hers, her own!
Even if she fails, it's her own fault.
Anyone who disturbs her, please go away.
Xianjin felt a mixture of emotions in his chest. He looked at the veiny back of Chen Jianfang's hand and took a deep breath. "'Don't take risks', tell me clearly, what risks are you taking? Are you so alert because it will ruin the reputation of the first wife, or because it will hinder the career of the second son of the Chen family!?"
Chen Jian straightened his back and was about to speak loudly.
The bushes outside the window rustled twice.
Chen Jianfang looked out the window warily, "Who!"
The servant outside the door quickly leaned out and looked, "It looks like a little girl, running to the west!"
To the west is the main hall of the inner courtyard.
Chen Jianfang lowered his head and quickly packed up his inkstone and brushes, and whispered to Xianjin, "Let's talk about it after today! The people at the banquet may be waiting anxiously."
Chen Jianfang lowered his head and walked out.
Xianjin seemed to have taken root and stood firm in the same place.
Chen Jianfang turned around, with a helpless look in the corners of his eyes and eyebrows, and his tone was gentle but with a hint of pleading, "Xianjin..."
Xianjin lowered his head, not knowing what he was thinking.
After a while, he finally let out a long and slow breath, pursed his lips, picked up the bamboo basket containing the papers, and walked quickly past the window in front of Chen Jian. After turning the corner, he finally raised his hand and glanced sideways, hiding the tear in the corner of his eye into his palm.
The banquet was indeed very anxious.
As soon as the two men sat down at the table, Xu, the second wife who played Xiang Yu, exclaimed that they had been waiting so long that the kelp that played the role of Hu Zi was almost turned into dry goods!
Old Madam Qu glanced at the two of them, then looked away and had someone prepare the writing brush, ink, paper and inkstone.
Chen Jianfang was busy writing Spring Festival couplets.
Xianjin buried his head in eating the cold dishes.
Chen Fu raised his right eyebrow and looked at his daughter in confusion - the girl was obviously in a bad mood.
"What's wrong?" Chen Fu bent down and asked softly.
Xianjin swallowed the rice cake and broad beans and shook his head, "Nothing." Xianjin gradually calmed down his emotions and smiled, "I just planted a chrysanthemum field for you. Next autumn, you can enjoy the chrysanthemums and write a new book."
Chen Fu:? He was too lazy to investigate his daughter's execution and fighting ability, and could only smack his lips. Although he liked chrysanthemums very much, due to some cultural factors, being given chrysanthemums didn't seem to be a good omen.
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