Chapter 53 Sending Off
He Sang stayed at Jinyue Mansion that night. She was frightened and caught a cold. She took a hot bath and fell asleep. When she woke up the next morning, she found that the furnishings in the master bedroom were still the same as before she left.
Liang Jishen transferred the house to her, but she refused and he never touched it again.
He Sang got out of bed. The quilt on the bed in the guest bedroom opposite was neatly folded into tofu blocks. He had slept there last night.
When the man was in college, the law major was under military-style management. Over the years, he'd folded his quilt and shirts, always in neat, orderly patterns. Liang Jishen's dorm room was occupied by four well-to-do children from Beijing's inner circle. All of them were well-dressed and had good grades, making them popular with the girls. Every time the boys in the building walked by, they'd snap a picture of his bed, his computer desk, the vest and shorts drying on the balcony, and his white sneakers, then pass them on to the girls in the journalism department.
According to Cheng Xun, Liang Jishen met Miss Song after work.
He Sang walked to the study, the door was open, Liang Jishen was standing in front of the desk, slowly opening a Chinese painting.
The mountains, rivers, bridges, lakes and spring scenery are all painted in a majestic ink-splashing style, and the three lines of cursive script in the lower right corner are also written in a bold and elegant manner.
"This is 'Eight Views of West Lake' by Dong Qichang from the Ming Dynasty. Lao Zhou paid a high price for this painting in the northwest. His subordinates have been looking for it for many years, and it happened to come into my hands."
Cheng Xun's eyes widened. "This painting is priceless. The scroll is made of rare rhinoceros bones. Are you going to give it to the Zhou family?"
Liang Jishen stroked the scroll with his thumb, "Repaying a favor."
"He promised not to embarrass Miss He. You might as well keep it for yourself."
The man rolled up the painting inch by inch and put it into a box. "Old Zhou has lost face. He might seek revenge later. He might not dare to touch me, but he can touch He Sang. I owe you a debt of gratitude in exchange for your safety."
He Sang knew Liang Jishen. He was very talented and his copied paintings and calligraphy were so realistic that they were indistinguishable from the real thing. He was a man who was both civil and military.
He has quite a few antiques in his collection, but his most treasured items are calligraphy and paintings.
He Sang walked in and asked, "Is this painting valuable?"
Liang Jishen raised his head and looked at her, "What do you want to say?"
She pursed her lips and asked, "How much is it worth?"
The man smiled a little, she was going to return it to him.
“The house you live in now is worth a hundred houses.”
He Sang swallowed and stepped back, "Thank you, Deputy Secretary Liang."
He burst out laughing, and when he saw that the situation was not good, he immediately slipped away. He was really cunning.
Liang Jishen didn't want to let her go. "Write an IOU?"
She lowered her eyes and said, "One hundred million, I can't pay it back even if I sell it."
"That's not necessarily true." The man was addicted to teasing, "Maybe there's a fool willing to spend 100 million to buy you."
Cheng Xun took the painting and left the study.
Liang Jishen picked up a medium-sized wolf-hair brush and tried the feel. The brush had hard bristles, absorbed little ink, and did not stain the paper, making it suitable for beginners.
"I'll pay you back as much as you earn, my heart goes out to you."
He Sang walked around the table and asked, "How do I write it?"
The man hugged her from behind, using one hand to smooth out the rice paper. "I owe Liang Jishen 100 million. If you have money, pay it back. If you don't, find a way to pay it back."
"My performance fee was the highest two years ago." He Sang fiddled with the calculator seriously. "It will take 208 years to pay it off."
Liang Jishen laughed muffledly. She tilted her head. He was clearly staring at the calculator seriously, as if the laughter was her illusion.
"Not long." He cleared his throat. "There's still time."
He Sang put down her calculator. "I'd have to perform day and night for a hundred and fifty years. Would you like to see a hundred and seventy-three-year-old woman hobbling onto the stage?" She turned to face him. "I'll give you a discount."
Liang Jishen's expression was serious. "How much discount do you want?"
"I'm not going to be forty yet."
He thought for a moment and said, "Okay."
After grinding the brush and wetting the tip, Liang Jishen helped her to gesture to hold the pen, then held her hand. "Don't hesitate when you put pen to paper. Each stroke should be firm and steady. Finish the stroke smoothly. Use your wrist to exert force, and your fingers should follow the pen."
He controlled the rhythm, writing from top to bottom neither fast nor slow. He Sang didn't know what style of calligraphy he wrote, but it was very free and unrestrained, with both strength and form, especially the wood under the word "梁", which looked square, strong and bright.
“Is it official script?”
The man leaned forward slightly to accommodate her height. "It's Yan style regular script, the most difficult type to write."
Liang Jishen hadn't smoked since waking up, and his mouth smelled fresh and pleasant, like minty ointment. He Sang recalled how Liang Chihui had been so affectionate with her at the Yanjing Restaurant, patiently teaching her card tricks and arithmetic. There was a natural ambiguity and sensuality between them, almost crossing the line, but always just a little short of the mark, keeping the other person in suspense and confusing others.
He is born to be an expert in the love field.
He Sang bent his elbow and nudged Liang Jishen's waist and abdomen. "Are the men in your Liang family good at seducing women?"
"I'm not." He paused for a second, "Liang Jing isn't either."
Liang Chihui is it.
"Do you have a sister-in-law?"
"No."
"How old is Liang Jing?"
"Thirty-seven."
"He's the secretary general of the embassy at such a young age?"
Liang Jishen hummed calmly, "Liang Jing went abroad at the age of 27. He is a genius in the field of diplomacy."
He Sang's eyes swept across his left hand, which was bent over the desk. His middle finger was bare with a faint mark of a ring. She couldn't help but get distracted, and the tip of the pen tilted, and the word "billion" was written in a mess.
"Not paying attention again."
Liang Jishen gathered up the paper balls and threw them into the trash can, then spread out a new piece of paper and said, "Write again."
This time, he let go, and He Sang held the pen himself and wrote stroke by stroke.
"Push harder."
"The end of the brushstroke should be broad and clean."
His mentor He Sang didn't listen to a word and blurted out, "Why don't you wear the ring?"
Liang Jishen had anticipated her question and laughed, "How many days have you been holding it in?"
That time at the theatre ended in a bad mood, she had been holding it in for too long, but He Sang didn't plan to ask him. If it weren't for the incident in Yanjing, she would have never had the chance to meet him privately again.
"I'll block the peach blossoms and make those who introduce women to me give up."
He Sang was stunned.
The man wiped the ink off his palms and said, "Anything else you want to ask? Ask them all at once."
She lowered her head and wrote and drew casually on the paper without saying a word.
Liang Jishen pinched her face, making it into a wrinkled bun, "Since you don't ask anymore, try not to get angry in the future."
......
The drama theater urgently handled the process of He Sang's transfer. Liang Jishen gave her a week, and just after the fifth day, her contract was mailed to a theater in another province.
On the afternoon of their arrival in the provincial capital, Liang Jishen drove her to the district public security bureau. A middle-aged man in plain clothes met them. Liang Jishen shook hands with him and said, "Director Gu, you know the situation now. Please."
The man laughed. "You're busy now, and you still come to me in person?"
"I'm worried about this place."
The man called Director Gu looked at He Sang and asked, "You've never been out of the province?"
Liang Jishen also looked at her with a smile, "I've taken her abroad before, and even traveled abroad with the theater, but I've never lived outside the province alone."
"No wonder you're worried about her." Director Gu assured him, "We used to be colleagues. You entrusted me with this in person. I'll naturally take better care of the girl within my ability."
He Sang followed Liang Jishen out of the bureau in a daze. It started to rain outside. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, his back gloomy, and it was unclear what he was thinking. After a moment, he opened the car door and looked at her sideways for a long time. "Zhonghai has an important meeting. I'll be back first. Call me if you have anything."
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