Ye Changqing in the central hall nodded almost imperceptibly. A man who is responsible, dares to speak the truth, and does not flatter or fawn—that's good.
"What are you laughing at, old man Li? Can't you see that your Qingning's face is all red? It's not normal for men to like beautiful women, and your Qingning may not even like Xiao Chen."
Old Yang was still unwilling to give up and wanted to struggle a bit more.
Li Siye was taken aback and looked directly at Qing Ning, "That girl, you..."
"like!"
Before she could finish speaking, Li Qingning turned around and ran out of the house, leaving the group of old men inside stunned.
Of course, the one who was most shocked was Chen Feng. That unexpected affection, without any romance, touched his heart in that instant.
"Qing Ning is a girl who dares to love and hate, much better than her father."
Ye Changqing made his conclusion and then continued, "Chen Feng, right? How old are you this year?"
Chen Feng quickly bowed and greeted, "Master Ye...Grandpa Ye, I am twenty-five years old this year."
"So, it's good that he's not the same age as Qing Ning, they're a good match."
Upon hearing Ye Changqing's words, everyone's faces fell. Except for Li Siye, since the old leader had spoken, they couldn't openly or secretly try to poach him.
"Hey president, look, this is Chen Feng's handwriting. I was absolutely amazed."
Li Siye presented Chen Feng with a calligraphy copybook.
Ye Changqing nodded, casually picked up the calligraphy and examined it, his expression unchanged. However, Chen Feng noticed that his eyes narrowed slightly the moment he saw the calligraphy.
He would look at a calligraphy copybook for a long time before moving on to the next one.
The room fell silent. As expected of a former leader and senior officer, his composure was beyond the reach of ordinary people. Compared to Bai Yizhong and his group, he was worlds apart.
But it's not surprising; those who sit in that position have all developed the ability to remain unmoved even if the sky falls or the earth collapses.
As time passed, Ye Changqing finished looking at the last piece and said, "Hmm, the younger generation is truly formidable. He has mastered no less than eight different calligraphic styles, and each one has reached a level of consummate skill. Li Siye."
"President, please speak."
"These calligraphy copybooks should be properly preserved, framed and stored in the calligraphy association, and can be appropriately exhibited globally to promote Chinese culture. As the president, it is natural for me to play a role in the calligraphy association."
Ye Changqing spoke calmly, Li Siye was overjoyed, but Bai Yizhong felt as if he had eaten shit. Sure enough, he had no chance of getting the original poems today.
"Bai Yizhong, you've come for poetry, haven't you? You can ask Li Siye to copy some of his poems. I've seen some famous lines from the past that you can show to the world."
"However, these things must be obtained with the owner's consent and cannot be forced."
As he spoke, he looked at Chen Feng with admiration in his eyes.
"This junior dares not, but will certainly contribute to the country."
Chen Feng understood.
“Old Chief, look, this painting is also by Chen Feng.”
Qi Baishi sent over pictures of shrimp and apples.
Ye Changqing slowly took it, then carefully examined it, nodding repeatedly.
"I heard that the schedule for the global art competition has been set. These two paintings have really put your mind at ease, President."
"Nothing can be hidden from the old chief. If it weren't for Chen Feng, China might have lost face again this year."
As he spoke, Qi Baishi recalled the humiliation of China not being able to rank in art competitions for the past ten years, and was filled with sadness.
"Very good. I hope there will be more and more young people like Chen Feng in China. A strong youth makes a strong nation!"
Finally, the great old man made a conclusion. He was not shocked by Chen Feng's extraordinary talent at such a young age, nor did he show any disbelief or doubt. This is the magnanimity of a person in a high position.
Those who stand at the forefront of history have witnessed many outrageous things and know many things that others do not.
Thus, with Chen Feng's consent, the calligraphy was signed Chen Feng, the painting was the same, and Bai Yizhong copied the poems on it.
The calligraphy copybooks will be framed and collected for exhibition at the Beijing Calligraphy Association's calligraphy museum. The Poetry Association will announce them to the nation at a later date. The shrimp and apple paintings will become the final works of China's participation in the global art competition.
The moment Chen Feng left Beijing—no, the moment he left the courtyard house—he felt it was all so unreal, like a dream.
In just two short days, it seemed like nothing had happened, yet a lot had occurred; it seemed like nothing had been done, yet a great deal had been accomplished.
On the plane, Li Qingning looked at the white clouds outside the window, her thoughts swirling.
Ever since they confessed their feelings, it's as if an invisible barrier has separated them, making it impossible for them to return to the casual, rare silences they once shared.
Of course, this must be the man's fault.
Chen Feng watched as Li Qingning's slender left fingers rested on the chair and gently tapped. In that instant, he felt a surge of impulse, yet also a touch of timidity.
Back then, Chen Feng, who is now dead, gave up everything to pursue Zhao Ya Shuang. He threw away all his pride and dignity and was more shameless than a mangy dog.
But now, the girl he once said he liked is right beside him, and he's backing down. Is this what love is all about?
Before, I was just lusting after other people's bodies?
In any world, feelings are universal. That's why there's a saying that when you truly find love, you'll become incredibly timid, cautious, and insecure.
That's why there are so many missed opportunities and so many regrets.
Fortunately, Chen Feng was unwilling.
He slowly raised his right hand and placed it on the pale white jade. The moment he touched it, it was a little cool, but very soft.
Li Qingning's entire body stiffened as she was attacked by a groping hand, but her head, which was looking out the window, did not turn back.
Their hearts were pounding.
It felt like a moment had passed, yet also like many years had gone by.
Until her hands warmed up, until her body was no longer stiff, until she slowly turned her palm over, until their fingers intertwined and became clasped together.
The two chuckled softly, their moment frozen in time.
At the music association headquarters, President Luo Hua squinted; he was very sleepy, but he couldn't rest.
The Chinese music scene evaluation conference has been going on for almost two days, and he has only slept for four hours. In the audience, the thirty judges from the national music scene are having a heated discussion, and the topic of discussion is about one person.
They've been arguing for three hours about this person's rating, but haven't reached a conclusion yet. At this point, it's especially important for him, the chairman, to step in and make a final decision, but he didn't. He just wanted to see if this matter could be resolved without considering his own performance.
On the judges' panel, Yang Zhi delivered a righteous and indignant speech.
"I strongly disagree with including Chen Feng in my Chinese music rating list. The reason is simple, and I have said it many times: an entertainment company boss is simply not suitable."
"Why is it unsuitable? When has the music industry ever said that bosses can't be singers?"
Li Zongsheng was furious. Of the thirty judges present, only a handful opposed Yang Zhi's opinion; the others either remained silent or colluded with Yang Zhi.
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