Chapter 11 I want to know, what do you want...?
After getting off the bus, Liang Qi walked ahead with his broad and upright back, while Jiang Nuanyu followed behind him, clutching her bag strap and filled with doubt.
As he walked up the steps to the door, he turned back and said, "It's a friend's place."
"Oh." Jiang Nuanyu understood briefly, then wondered: Friend?
Just as I was about to ring the doorbell, the door opened from the inside first.
The person who opened the door was a brown-haired, blue-eyed foreigner. His voice was cheerful: "Hey! Will, lange nicht gesehen (Long time no see)!"
Liang Qi smiled faintly and replied in Chinese, "Long time no see."
"I saw you driving on the security camera just now, I almost thought I was seeing things." Hans opened his arms and hugged him, patting his chest and joking, "Busy guy, still so cool, huh?"
Jiang Nuanyu was slightly surprised as she watched the interaction between the two.
Not only because the foreigner in front of her spoke Chinese with almost no non-native accent, but also because she recognized him as Hans Fender—an avant-garde painter in the art world.
Hans turned his gaze to her, raised an eyebrow, and asked, "And who is this beautiful young lady?"
Liang Qi glanced at her and said casually, "Aren't you going to hold an exhibition? Bring a friend to come and see it in advance."
Jiang Nuanyu smiled at Hans, but secretly she was delighted by Liang Qi's definition of her as a "friend".
"Oh, welcome!" Hans grinned, revealing a row of neat teeth, and ushered the two inside.
The staircase is on one side of the entrance hall. Hans pointed to it and said, "The exhibition area is on the second floor. You can go up and see it anytime."
Jiang Nuanyu was still unsure: "Is it okay?"
“Of course.” Hans replied without hesitation, spreading his hands in a “please” gesture. “Please make yourself at home.”
Jiang Nuanyu glanced at Liang Qi, who calmly met her gaze; she then stopped refusing, politely nodded and smiled, and stepped onto the stairs.
Liang Qi followed slowly behind her, one hand in his pocket. Hans glanced at him with a smile but didn't go up with the two of them.
The air on the second floor was filled with the scent of wood, mixed with a faint smell of varnish and paint.
The entire floor has been transformed into a small art gallery, with interconnected rooms and various paintings of different sizes hanging on each wall.
Jiang Nuanyu had only seen Hans Fender's works in magazines and art books before; this was the first time she had seen the originals.
Although their styles differ, Hans's paintings generally favor bright colors and bold lines, conveying strong emotions and stimulating the senses at first glance.
She turned to look at Liang Qi, her eyes sparkling: "How did you... come up with the idea of bringing me here?"
Liang Qi said, "You have a copy of his painting 'Glaswind' tucked on the back of your computer. I guess you might be interested in his paintings."
That painting wasn't Hans's most famous work; in fact, it could be considered quite obscure. That's why he paid closer attention to her reaction after the interview.
Jiang Nuanyu was completely stunned.
She had cut out the drawing from a magazine and casually stuffed it into the transparent case of her laptop. She had always had this little habit; changing the compartment was like changing her mood, and she never expected Liang Qi to notice.
"I see."
She calmly turned her head, but her heart was already like a small boat with its mast tossed about, rocking and swaying, unable to settle down.
Besides what she thought was "catering to his preferences," Liang Qi actually had other considerations.
On the night they first met, she confessed her feelings to him. It seemed honest and genuine, and it did pique his interest, but that didn't mean he completely believed her.
A fashion magazine editor's fondness for a niche painting could be a genuine love for it, or it could be a carefully crafted persona to fit their image.
He wanted to know whether her honesty was genuine or if she was simply adept at sophisticated disguise.
Bringing her here is the simplest way to make a judgment.
Jiang Nuanyu was completely unaware of this.
She felt only surprise; she didn't mind being observed and understood by him, and even felt a sense of joy at being understood and seen.
Her attention quickly returned to the paintings on the wall, her gaze slowly wandering over each one; sometimes she would walk closer to examine them closely, and occasionally she would pause to ponder.
Liang Qi walked beside her, following her rhythm, looking at the painting, his gaze occasionally sweeping over her profile.
Under the gallery's alternating light and shadow, her eyes were bright and gentle, her expression focused and content, radiating a quiet yet vibrant beauty.
At that moment, she seemed to have forgotten that he was right next to her.
Jiang Nuanyu was drawn to an abstract oil painting at the entrance of the small room and stopped to look at it for a while.
The caption below reads the German title of the painting: "Tanzendes Flammenlicht" (meaning "Tanzendes Flammenlicht").
She subconsciously murmured, "Tan—Tanzen—"
It's stuck.
She doesn't understand German.
“Tanzendes Flammenlicht. Dancing shimmering light.” Liang Qi explained from behind.
Jiang Nuanyu turned around and asked in surprise, "You can speak German?"
"I know a little."
"oh……"
She blinked in surprise, then thought his pronunciation was quite pleasant, unlike the stiff tone she had in mind when Germans spoke.
She turned to look at the canvas and whispered, "A wild dance of light..."
The painting is dominated by fiery red, indigo and bright yellow. The bold and chaotic brushstrokes intertwine and crisscross, and the intertwined lines vaguely outline a pair of figures dancing gracefully.
That's really a perfect description.
The two walked around and unknowingly returned to the lobby at the stairwell.
Jiang Nuanyu then noticed that on the wall opposite the stairs, there were several paintings that were only half-colored, and some were only outlined with a few strokes, leaving large blank areas.
These works, which appear to be unfinished, are framed with equal care.
Jiang Nuanyu couldn't help but sigh: "Artists serve fleeting inspirations. Regardless of whether the work is completed or not, as long as the creator feels it is enough, then it is complete."
After she finished speaking, she looked at Liang Qi, her eyes bright and her lips curved, as if seeking his resonance.
“I agree with you,” Hans said, standing at the top of the stairs.
Jiang Nuanyu turned around upon hearing this, and Hans said, "For me, the process and inspiration are more meaningful than the result. You are very perceptive. I like that very much."
Jiang Nuanyu smiled shyly, then looked at Liang Qi.
They briefly locked eyes, and she noticed that his gaze was very deep.
For some reason, she suddenly felt uneasy.
Hans noticed the unusual atmosphere between the two and smiled mischievously, saying, "Why don't you stay for dinner? I'll cook for you."
Jiang Nuanyu's first reaction was to refuse, since it was their first meeting and she didn't want to be abrupt; then she thought that Hans was Liang Qi's friend, so perhaps she should respect his wishes.
Whether Liang Qi happened to look over or hadn't looked away, their eyes met again when she looked up.
She immediately forgot what she was going to say.
Hans seemed to assume they wouldn't refuse his invitation, turned and went downstairs, waving his hand: "I guarantee you'll love my cooking."
Jiang Nuanyu blinked, looking somewhat lost.
Liang Qi said, "You can refuse."
She gazed at me for a few seconds, then asked, "And what about you?"
"What?"
"I want to know, do you want to stay?"
She looked at him intently.
Is it to leave now and end this unexpected journey together, or to stay and voluntarily share a dinner?
More than her own thoughts, she cared whether he shared the same desire.
Liang Qi stared at her for a moment and said, "His skills are indeed quite good."
She caught the faint smile on his lips, lowered her eyes, and smiled back.
Liang Qi took a step forward, making room for her to walk alongside him. Jiang Nuanyu followed, and they went downstairs together.
·
Hans's kitchen is located on the west side of the first floor of the villa. It has an open layout with a central countertop connected to a long and wide oak dining table, above which hang three candle-shaped pendant lights.
The dining table faces the floor-to-ceiling windows, outside which is the swimming pool. In the night, the lights at the bottom of the pool shine like tiny stars on the water's surface, rippling with the waves.
Jiang Nuanyu and Liang Qi sat on the same side of the dining table, while Hans, wearing an apron, busied himself moving back and forth between the kitchen counter and the stove.
His chopping movements were clean and efficient, and his frying in the pan was even more skillful and natural; he really looked the part.
While he was busy, he chatted casually with the two of them and quickly prepared dinner: a German sausage platter, pan-fried salmon, rye bread, and salad.
"It's a bit simple, but the seasonings and sauces are the best version I've tried many times. You'll like them," Hans said with a smile as he opened a drawer to get a knife and fork.
Jiang Nuanyu asked curiously, "Do you usually live here?" She had originally thought that the villa was only used as a private art gallery.
“I lived here when I was in China,” Hans said. “My life revolves around painting; painting is my life. When I get tired of painting, I cook for myself and occasionally invite friends over for a meal and a chat.”
Jiang Nuanyu nodded slowly: "It's a very romantic lifestyle."
Hans smiled and shrugged: "I hope so."
Hans is quick-witted and witty, so there's no need to worry about awkward silences even though it's our first meeting. He also has high emotional intelligence, always starting the conversation around himself but then subtly steering it towards Liang Qi or Jiang Nuanyu, allowing them to naturally participate.
But sometimes, when he gets into a good mood, Hans will suddenly speak German.
At this moment, he was probably recounting an unexpected or surprising experience, his eyebrows dancing and his face beaming, his hands gesturing automatically.
Jiang Nuanyu silently observed his expression and body language for a while, but she still couldn't understand what he meant.
She didn't want to break the atmosphere, nor could she pretend to know what she didn't, so she simply lowered her head and ate.
Liang Qi noticed her unease and glanced at her sideways; she met his gaze, but he said nothing and looked away to answer Hans's question.
The first half of the sentence was in German, and the second half was in Chinese.
The conversation that just took place had nothing to do with Jiang Nuanyu, but because of his casual glance, she felt that she had not been excluded.
However, such situations are rare; most of the time, Hans speaks Chinese.
“By the way,” Hans suddenly mentioned, “Is Uncle Liang in China recently? I’d like to visit him and talk about inspiration.”
“He’s in China,” Liang Qi said. “I’m not entirely sure what he’s busy with, but you can contact him directly.”
“Whenever I have a bunch of thoughts that I can’t sort out, I really want to talk to Uncle Liang in person. He’s very wise and always gives me a lot of inspiration. It’s a pity he doesn’t paint anymore.” Hans sighed softly, then said, “To paint when you want to, and not to paint when you don’t want to, to truly do as you please, is a state that many people dream of, right?”
Liang Qi gave a meaningless laugh and said, "Indeed. He's always been a free spirit."
Jiang Nuanyu listened to their conversation and seemed to be deep in thought.
She found it hard to reconcile the easygoing nature of her father with the calm and rational Liang Qi.
They seem completely different.
But then she thought of Liang Qi, whom she had first met a few years ago, wearing a shirt and smoking on a winter night, and she vaguely felt that the kind of temperament similar to his father might not be absent in Liang Qi.
She couldn't help but think: it seems she understands him a little better now.
·
This unplanned dinner wasn't deliberately prolonged; it ended naturally when the food on the plate was almost gone.
Before leaving, Hans came downstairs with an envelope:
“Sorry, I can’t write your Chinese name, so I wrote ‘Nuan Yu’.” He smiled broadly and handed the invitation to Jiang Nuanyu. “I hope to see you again next week when the event officially starts.”
Jiang Nuanyu's almond-shaped eyes widened in surprise as she accepted the invitation with both hands. She glanced at Liang Qi unconsciously, then said earnestly to Hans, "Thank you, I will come."
Hans winked at her playfully, then said to Liang Qi, "I'm inviting Nuanyu over, you don't mind, do you?"
Liang Qi shook his head and smiled, ignoring his teasing remark.
Jiang Nuanyu's heart skipped a beat.
After leaving Hans's villa, Liang Qi drove her home. Since cars weren't allowed inside the residential complex, he parked on the roadside near the entrance.
Jiang Nuanyu unbuckled her seatbelt, turned her head, and said, "Thank you, Mr. Liang." She used a less distant form of address.
"Take me to see Hans's paintings, and also, send me back."
Liang Qi smiled slightly and said, "You're too kind."
After a moment of silence in the car, Jiang Nuanyu broke the silence: "Will you still go when it officially starts?"
Liang Qi's gaze followed her as she spoke, landing on her face. The streetlights shone through the windshield into the car, and she could see the anticipation mixed with trepidation in her eyes.
He looked at her for two seconds and said, "Not necessarily."
Jiang Nuanyu was clearly disappointed, and nodded with her eyes down: "Oh, okay."
She really wanted to get his contact information, but she didn't dare to say it.
After a while, she smiled and said, "Well then, goodbye."
Liang Qi nodded: "Goodbye."
Jiang Nuanyu got out of the car and walked towards the gate of the residential area.
Inside the car, Liang Qi's gaze remained silently fixed on her back.
A few steps away, she suddenly turned back.
On the streets at night, cars kept passing by.
The dark blue Maserati, almost black in the night, was slowly starting to move and merging into the traffic.
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