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Chapter 43: Which One

No one noticed the group standing quietly outside the glass doors for nearly an hour. Director Yao remained silently watching Song Xian paint, still the same girl from her memories, although she had heard Song Xian had left Bai Ye several years ago.

Such a talented individual—Director Yao couldn’t imagine how Bai Ye could bear to let her go. If it had been up to her, she would have been holding Song Xian’s easel every day just to keep her painting.

Perhaps the thoughts of geniuses were simply different from those of ordinary people.

Like Song Xian. Like Song Xian’s parents. Like Bai Ye.

Director Yao shook her head lightly. The people accompanying her were so stiff from standing that their legs had gone numb, yet none dared to move. One of them asked quietly, “Director, should we still go in?”

“No,” Director Yao said. “Let’s head back.”

The outcome inside was already decided.

In just half an hour, Song Xian had freehanded half of the piece, her expression relaxed and natural, her gaze as calm as water. Yu Bai, on the other hand, had managed only a quarter, distracted, with a few small mistakes in the details.

Seeing this, Qian Shen immediately turned to the reporters and said, “You all should head back first, go on. We still need to discuss some musical matters with Liuyi later.”

She didn’t know much about painting, but even she could tell Yu Bai had lost.

How could Yu Bai not know? She gritted her teeth, holding on only until the reporters had all left before gripping her pen tightly. If Song Xian and Jiang Liuyi hadn’t still been there, she would have exploded already!

Her best work had been dismissed by Song Xian as merely average.

Her proudest talent was being crushed and overshadowed by Song Xian.

She couldn’t bear this humiliation!

Yu Bai clenched her hands, biting down so hard that a faint trace of blood seeped from her lips. Her eyes reddened with grievance, tears glimmering at the corners.

Song Xian continued sketching, completely unaffected by anything around her. Jiang Liuyi stood at her side and called out, “Song Xian.”

She said, “It’s over.”

But Song Xian ignored her, as if she had entered an entirely different world, a world where she shone brilliantly. Jiang Liuyi hesitated for a moment and then decided not to call her again.

Yu Bai, unable to endure the humiliation any longer, threw down her pen and ran out, colliding straight into Qian Shen on the way back. Qian Shen asked, “What’s wrong?”

She then glared and demanded, “Did something happen while I was gone? Did Jiang Liuyi or the others say anything?”

Yu Bai shook her head. “No.”

Her eyes, slightly red, brimmed with tears. “Am I really that useless?”

“What nonsense!” Qian Shen scolded her. “Don’t overthink it. I’ll take you back.”

Before leaving, Yu Bai cast one more glance at Jiang Liuyi.

But Jiang Liuyi didn’t even look at her.

From beginning to end, her gaze had been fixed solely on Song Xian. A deeper wave of resentment surged within Yu Bai. Clenching her hands tightly, she let Qian Shen support her as they left the studio.

The once lively studio fell silent, leaving only Song Xian and Jiang Liuyi. Song Xian kept her head down, focused intently on her freehand sketching. Jiang Liuyi stood to the side and suddenly pulled out her phone, snapping two pictures of Song Xian. Before she could even put her phone away, a message popped up from Zhao Yuebai: [Hey! Liuyi, did your wife just challenge someone to a duel?]

Jiang Liuyi frowned and replied: [No.]

Zhao Yuebai shot back: [What do you mean no! Yu Bai is crying to Lin Qiushui right now!]

Jiang Liuyi paused: [How do you know?]

Zhao Yuebai: [Qiushui came to talk to me about something.]

In fact, since last night, Lin Qiushui had been trying to arrange a meeting with her. Seeing that Lin Qiushui seemed genuinely sincere, Zhao Yuebai finally made time to meet with her. They had barely exchanged a few words when Qian Shen called, asking about Jiang Liuyi’s schedule. Lin Qiushui immediately questioned why.

After all, in all the years Jiang Liuyi had been with the company, Qian Shen had never once asked about her itinerary. Her sudden, furious tone definitely didn’t suggest anything good. When Lin Qiushui refused to explain, Qian Shen ended up arguing with her—then Yu Bai snatched the phone away.

And Yu Bai was still crying even now.

Zhao Yuebai rolled her eyes and immediately tattled to Jiang Liuyi: [I can’t stand it. But seriously, what did your wife do to her?]

Jiang Liuyi didn’t know how to explain. She typed out several messages only to delete them all, finally replying: [She didn’t do anything.]

Zhao Yuebai: [Well, it’s possible. Yu Bai’s the type who thinks even the slightest bump is an act of bullying. Honestly, if your wife had bullied her, I wouldn’t be surprised—it’s just because she’s so protective of you!]

Protective of her?

Jiang Liuyi paused when she read that, then quietly put away her phone and continued standing beside Song Xian, watching her sketch. About half an hour later, Song Xian finally finished. She looked up at the silent studio and froze. “Where is everyone?”

“They already left,” Jiang Liuyi replied.

Song Xian frowned. “Did I go over the time limit?”

Could her old habit have resurfaced again—losing track of time whenever she picked up a paintbrush? Jiang Liuyi glanced at the clock and said, “Not yet.”

They had agreed on a one-hour session. Yu Bai, unable to endure it, had given up voluntarily after the reporters left. Only then did Song Xian understand. She gave a slight nod. “Then let’s leave too.”

Jiang Liuyi lowered her head to look at the sketch. “Aren’t you taking this with you?”

Song Xian said, “It’s just a discarded draft.”

But Jiang Liuyi couldn’t bear to throw it away. She said, “Then I’ll keep it.”

Song Xian answered lightly, “Whatever you like.”

After they spoke, Jiang Liuyi carefully gathered up the paper. Then, together with Song Xian, she headed out. Once they got into the car, Jiang Liuyi asked, “Did you major in fine arts in college?”

Song Xian tilted her head to look at her and said, “No, it was my minor. But I had private lessons with a teacher.”

Jiang Liuyi nodded. “So you learned freehand sketching back then?”

Song Xian said, “I could do it since I was a child.”

Jiang Liuyi: …

She realized she seemed to know Song Xian very well, yet at the same time, not at all. Hadn’t they exchanged information when they got married?

What had Song Xian said back then?

She had once said she had studied painting, was currently employed at Man Tong, had a simple family background, with both parents alive, was an only child, had no bad habits, and that her parents didn’t interfere in her marital affairs…

Looking back now, every statement had been true.

She had indeed studied painting—only she was far more talented than Jiang Liuyi had imagined.

Her parents were alive, and she was an only child. That was correct too, and their background was so simple that a quick search on Baidu would reveal everything about them.

No bad habits—also true. Song Xian’s routines and rhythms were so steady that after just a week of living together, Jiang Liuyi could grasp them all.

As for her parents not interfering in marriage matters…

Now, she wasn’t so sure. If Song Xian’s parents knew she had married Jiang Liuyi, would they have agreed so easily?

Jiang Liuyi turned her head and called out, “Song Xian.”

Song Xian glanced over, her gaze calm. “Hm?”

Meeting those steady eyes, Jiang Liuyi felt her own mood settle in a strange, quiet way. She said, “Nothing. I just wanted to ask what you want to eat tonight. Let’s go buy groceries.”

Groceries.

Another new routine woven into their lives.

Song Xian thought of Jiang Liuyi, seriously cooking, and didn’t find the idea unpleasant. She said, “Anything is fine.”

Jiang Liuyi took the easygoing Song Xian to the supermarket, wanting her to pick out some groceries. But she soon realized that Song Xian just glanced around aimlessly, looking at this and that without putting anything in the cart, a faintly bewildered expression on her face. 

Finding it strangely endearing, Jiang Liuyi didn’t interrupt. She simply watched quietly, her heart filling with an unnamed feeling, a soft warmth blooming within her.

In the end, Song Xian waved her hand. “I don’t know what to pick.”

Jiang Liuyi asked, “Do you want to have the same dishes we had at lunch?”

She quickly promised, “I’ll make them even better than at lunch.”

Song Xian nodded. “That’s fine.”

They wandered through the aisles, picking up ingredients similar to what they had bought earlier, and added two pieces of tofu as well. Jiang Liuyi had seen a recipe for tofu fish soup and thought it looked simple enough. After they finished shopping, it was still Song Xian who paid. Jiang Liuyi turned her head to watch Song Xian enter the password, and for a moment, an almost newlywed feeling washed over her.

That sweetness was abruptly broken by her phone ringing.

It was Jiang Liubing calling. “Sis, are you moving back home?”

Jiang Liuyi froze. “What?”

Jiang Liubing shrugged. “That’s what Mom said. Are you moving back?”

Jiang Liuyi hadn’t expected that, even after she had made things so clear, Huang Shuiqin would still stubbornly cling to her views. Without even thinking, she said bluntly, “I’m not moving back.”

Then she added, “Tell Mom and Dad that from now on, they don’t need to interfere in anything between me and Song Xian.”

Jiang Liubing, long used to acting as the family’s go-between, merely gave an “Oh,” before glancing over at Huang Shuiqin. Huang Shuiqin’s face remained cold as she reached out and abruptly hung up the phone.

By then, Song Xian had already taken the shopping bags and gotten into the car. When Jiang Liuyi got in, she saw Song Xian tapping away on her phone. A moment later, a message notification sounded with a soft ding. Jiang Liuyi asked, “Who is it?”

“Gu Yuanyuan,” Song Xian replied. “I haven’t gone to pick up bread for two days.”

It used to be something as steady as clockwork. Now, she hadn’t gone, and Gu Yuanyuan immediately sent a message to check in. When she found out Jiang Liuyi had started learning how to cook, she bombarded Song Xian with a string of exclamation points.

[She’s actually using those hands to cook? You two are so extravagant!]

Song Xian lowered her eyes.

Gu Yuanyuan sent another message: [But this is how it should be! This actually feels like you’re properly married. What kind of marriage is it if you’re still ordering takeout every day?]

Is that not allowed? Song Xian didn’t really understand.

She didn’t reply and simply put her phone down.

They arrived home quickly. As usual, Jiang Liuyi headed straight for the kitchen to get busy. Song Xian wanted to help, but Jiang Liuyi said, “Help me tie my apron.”

It was a new one, the kind you pull over your head and tie at the waist. Jiang Liuyi could easily have done it herself, but she preferred having Song Xian help her.

Song Xian stood behind her and tied the knot at her waist. Jiang Liuyi glanced down a few times and said, “Not bad.”

Then she asked, “When you were growing up, who cooked at home? Your mom or your dad?”

At the question, Song Xian turned her head slightly to look at her and said, “We had a chef at home.”

Jiang Liuyi: …

She paused. “Aside from the chef?”

Song Xian said, “We ate out.”

Jiang Liuyi frowned. “Your parents never cooked?”

Song Xian shook her head. “No. They thought it was too much trouble.”

Jiang Liuyi made a small sound of acknowledgment.

Strangely enough, she wasn’t even surprised by that answer???

It really was bizarre!

After sending Song Xian to the living room, Jiang Liuyi got to work washing and chopping vegetables. She was much more adept than she had been at lunchtime; even without checking the recipe, she could now throw together a couple of dishes decently. She just needed to taste them a few times after seasoning to make sure everything was right.

Finally, it was time for the tofu fish soup. She prepared all the ingredients and pulled up the recipe on Baidu. She was only halfway through reading when Zhao Yuebai messaged, saying she was finished and feeling refreshed, then asked what Jiang Liuyi was doing and whether she wanted to grab dinner together.

Jiang Liuyi tossed the ingredients into the pot and found a spare moment to reply: [Reading.]

Zhao Yuebai: [Reading?]

Then she sent another message: [Hehehe, what kind of book are you reading? I’ve got foreign ones, domestic ones, high-difficulty action scenes, high-H ones, even bondage and spy-themed ones. Which do you like? I’ll send you some.]

Jiang Liuyi glanced at the message and nearly choked, her face instantly heating up, a prickling flush rising on her skin. She frowned—what kind of nonsense was Zhao Yuebai spouting?

Instinctively, she looked over at Song Xian sitting quietly in the living room. After two seconds of silence, she typed back to Zhao Yuebai: [I like them all. Send everything.]