Chapter 28 Spend Time Together 28
The early morning sunlight shines through the glass, casting tiny spots of light on the pearwood dining table.
Tang Ximian bit into a jade steamed bun, his eyes flickering between Tang Li's snow-white shirt collar and Delixi's bony hands. Those hands, which had been resting on his brother's chair last night, wrapped around him, now neatly gripped a blue and white porcelain spoon, scooping up a spoonful of sweet-scented glutinous rice balls.
The sound of the silver spoon hitting the bone china bowl startled Tang Ximian's hand, and the soy milk spread a pale yellow stain on the rice paper placemat. Delish raised his emerald eyes, his eyelashes gilded in the morning light. "Do you need a tissue?"
"No, no!" Tang Ximian hurriedly put down the spoon. Si Yankai next to him handed him a tissue, but instead of giving it to Tang Ximian, he helped him wipe his hands clean.
"What are you doing? I can do it myself." Tang Ximian's face gradually turned red, after all, her brother was watching her from the opposite side.
"What's wrong with you? What are you thinking about? You look so absent-minded." Out of politeness and restraint, Si Yankai did not come out of the guest room after entering it last night, and he had no idea what happened downstairs.
"No... I didn't think anything!" He said that, but his two little eyes kept rolling around.
Tang Li coughed lightly, put down his fork, and straightened his sleeves.
"We were discussing a collaboration plan last night. We were so engrossed that we accidentally got so close. We weren't even touching." He tapped the clear glass of coffee with his fingertips. "What you saw... was just an optical illusion."
"I understand, I understand!" Tang Ximian buried his head in the blue and white porcelain bowl and heard Delish whisper something in German. Tang Li directly replied in German, "Shut up."
Tang Ximian could only understand a few simple German sentences, and it was difficult to understand the more difficult ones. In order to understand what they were talking about, he tugged at the corner of Si Yankai's clothes and gave him a puzzled look.
Si Yankai pinched his thigh under the table, the scent of mint brushing against his ear. "Don't worry about them. Tonight I'll show you what a true 'visual error' is."
When the sound of the door closing gently came from the entrance, Tang Ximian found that only he and Delixi were left at home. Si Yankai went out to do something, and Tang Li went to work.
Derich was sitting cross-legged on a dark green velvet sofa, his silver cufflinks reflecting cold light as he turned the pages.
Tang Ximian bit the rim of his glass, his gaze drifting from the other person's meticulously styled blond hair to the German financial magazine spread out on the coffee table. He recalled the German conversation that had emanated from the study last night, and his Adam's apple rolled slightly.
"I'm going upstairs." The bottom of the glass hit the marble countertop with a crisp sound. Tang Ximian grabbed the hem of his sweatshirt and walked quickly through the living room, not letting go of the crumpled cotton until he stepped onto the spiral staircase.
When the door lock of the top-floor studio clicked shut, he slid slowly down to sit on the floor, leaning against the door panel. The coolness of the linen floor seeped through his jeans.
The scent of turpentine, wrapped in sunlight, drifted across the canvas. Tang Ximian knelt on the wooden floor, his paintbrush trembling slightly as it hovered above his palette. The skyline, which should have been clear, was now stained a leaden gray. He stared at the abrupt metallic block in the center of the painting, then suddenly scraped away the cold silver with a scraper.
That's when there was a knock on the door. Three times, spaced out like a metronome.
"Your brother said he'd take you out for lunch." Derich's voice came through the door, his Chinese accented with a strange rhythm.
Tang Ximian's hand trembled, and the cobalt blue paint drew a twisted arc on the canvas. He stared at the cracked blue and heard his own dry response: "I'll be right there."
The cool air of the underground parking lot, wrapped in the smell of gasoline, hit her face. Tang Ximian walked straight to the pearl white Panamera, took the key next to it, and got in neatly.
In the rearview mirror, Derich was adjusting his cufflinks, and the German documents jumping on the tablet made his pupils glow blue.
"I heard the Munich gallery is holding a biennial?" Tang Ximian suddenly asked as they drove out of the basement. The soft rustling of papers could be heard in the back seat. "Your brother just acquired that gallery last month." Derich's last words faded into the scent of the car's incense. Tang Ximian gripped the steering wheel tightly, his white knuckles reflected in the rearview mirror.
"Yeah……"
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