Chapter 278 The Woman in His Painting
He Sang got in the car and called Liang Chihui, but the phone was turned off.
His confrontation with Ji Xilan was a clear declaration of his sovereignty, but she ended up hurriedly accompanying Liang Jishen back to the ward without even bothering to greet him.
Although her loss of composure was understandable, Liang Jishen coughed up blood and fainted in front of her, and this old love that was deeply rooted in her bones would eventually take time to fade away, and she would not become indifferent immediately, but Liang Chihui could not help but feel annoyed that she was being teased and left out.
He Sang did not act rashly, nor did he send a text message. He went directly to Liang Group the next day.
At ten o'clock in the morning, she walked into the employee elevator. There was a female subordinate from the secretariat and an assistant from the public relations department, who were talking about Liang Chihui.
"Is Director Liang going through menopause? Every morning when department managers report to work, none of them escape his scolding, which is utterly bloody."
He Sang's heart skipped a beat.
Sure enough, he left without saying goodbye last night and turned off his phone. He must have been angry.
Liang Chihui was such a proud and arrogant man, her behavior was tantamount to a slap in the face.
"Isn't Director Liang famous for his good temper?"
The female subordinate was surprised. "Yeah, I don't know who provoked him. His temper is now as bad as the Third Young Master."
"The Third Young Master has a bad temper, let's be reasonable!" The employee curled his lips, "Director Liang is being unreasonable today."
"Dumped by a woman?"
He Sang straightened his back, feeling as if he were walking on pins and needles.
"Impossible! If you're with him, would you be willing to dump him?"
The female subordinate shook her head. "I'm willing to give it up. Everyone has their own preferences. I like the type of the Third Young Master."
"It's useless for you to like her. The Third Young Master is getting married, and his wife is a pillar of the theater."
The elevator door opened, and a group of executives in suits walked out of the conference room at the end and met her face to face.
He Sang wore a sun hat and sunglasses, so the group of executives didn't recognize her and weren't familiar with her. After Liang Jishen resigned from the Municipal Procuratorate, he only spent three months in the marketing department of the Liang Group for a transition period before being transferred to the China Overseas Group. Therefore, he didn't attract much attention, and his woman naturally had little presence.
Liang Chihui stood at the front of the team, listening to their discussion sideways and replying from time to time.
"The Zhang Group is incredibly lucky! This is a billion-dollar project! A huge piece of juicy meat for free. The old chairman is seriously ill and hospitalized, the Liang Group is experiencing significant internal turmoil, and the provincial government is also concerned about the overall situation. It's a shame we missed out."
"With the Second Young Master here, what's there to worry about?" an executive said nonchalantly. "Even if the Zhang Group has a billion-dollar project, the Second Young Master is capable enough to strategize and make him suffer."
They laughed.
A director joked with Liang Chihui, "Men build families and careers. Mr. Liang is now successful in his career, so it's time to think about marriage!"
Liang Chihui smiled deeply, "I will inform you all when there is good news."
When they passed each other, Liang Chihui paused and gave instructions to his secretary in a deep voice. The secretary glanced at He Sang's back and chased after him.
"Miss He! The Second Young Master wants you to go to his office."
He Sang stopped and said, "Okay."
Liang Chihui's office was originally Liang Yanzhang's office. The door was decorated with glittering gold characters, "Director's Office", which was magnificent.
The secretary led her in and then hurried away.
"Second brother." He Sang held a square handkerchief.
Liang Chihui saw the handkerchief in her hand clearly. He said nothing more, still as gentle and soft as before, as if nothing had happened. He asked her with a smile, "How is the third brother?"
He Sang bit his lower lip and said, "Out of danger."
The man nodded and continued to review the contract.
After reviewing seven or eight expedited documents, he shook his neck to relieve his fatigue, but seemed not to notice her and lowered his head again.
After reviewing all the documents, Liang Chihui slowly raised his eyes, a smile forming in his eyes. "Why don't you sit down?"
"I'll leave after I return the handkerchief," she whispered. "I'm afraid you'll be angry."
"Why am I angry?"
He Sang raised his eyelids and their eyes met. He was clearly smiling, but his expression became inexplicably serious.
The thrilling sense of urgency made her at a loss for words.
"Are you angry then?"
"No." Liang Chihui stared at her, his eyes more silent and obscure than the night before dawn, more mysterious and deep, and boundless. "I don't get angry with women, especially you."
He Sang carefully handed over the handkerchief. His eyes, which had been fixed on her face, fell on the handkerchief. He took it, weighed it up and down, and said with a half-smile, "Is it mine?"
"yes."
"No." Liang Chihui denied, "I will embroider a word 'Hui' on my handkerchief with green silk thread inside the bamboo leaves. If you don't look carefully, you won't be able to see it."
He Sang was slightly stunned.
She really didn't notice.
The man laughed muffledly, "Where did you buy it?"
He Sang's ears turned red and he was too embarrassed to say a word.
Liang Chihui's eyes moved to her ears. He stood up, walked around the desk, and walked towards her. He folded the handkerchief, protecting it very safely, and put it in his shirt pocket. "It's a clumsy excuse, but I accept it with pleasure."
He stared at her for a long time, until He Sang felt uncomfortable all over and his fingernails turned red with embarrassment. Then he gave up and said, "I'm going to the inner room to change clothes. You can walk around freely."
Liang Chihui closed the door.
He Sang didn't dare to wander around. She was wary of Liang Chihui setting a trap for her, so she only looked through the nearest desk.
On the table, two white jade paperweights held down a painting. The calligraphy was not written with a brush, but with a bamboo brush, an extra-large thick bamboo tube. Without strong wrist strength, it would be impossible to control such a smooth and elegant style, especially the first and last characters, which were so vigorous and majestic.
"The lotus is like a face, the willow is like an eyebrow." He Sang read it again. Next to this vertical line of words was the silhouette of a woman, outlined with just a few strokes of thick ink. The high-end charm of the black and white style in his depiction surpassed the exquisiteness of pencil drawings and oil paintings. One could vaguely make out the long hair, cheongsam, and narrow and small face.
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