When Will My Childhood Sweetheart Marry Me?-Chapter 203: Person in the Painting

That was an oil painting.

The deep blue seaside, with the tide carrying the white foam pushing toward the boundless horizon.

On the beach, a woman’s silhouette stood quietly, her figure soft and beautiful, her white long dress fluttering with the sea breeze, elegant and beautiful to the extreme.

At the lower left corner of the canvas, there were two characters, "True Love."

True, Love.

It was uncertain whether this was the name of the painter or the title of the work.

Jiang Shuyao’s heart was touched, and she couldn’t help but reach out her fingertips to touch the canvas.

The silhouette in the painting was familiar yet strange.

Like, yet unlike.

Or perhaps it was just a coincidence, but she still couldn’t take her eyes off of it.

"Miss, what do you think of the person in the painting?"

A cold, standard Mandarin accent brought Jiang Shuyao’s thoughts back to reality.

She slowly turned her head and met a pair of deep light blue pupils behind the glasses.

A mixed-race man with an elegant appearance.

Wearing gold-rimmed glasses, a well-placed smile on his lips, he stood there quietly, his demeanor leisurely and mature.

The man was looking at her, seemingly waiting for her previous answer.

Jiang Shuyao withdrew her gaze and focused once again on the painting in front of her.

"She’s very beautiful, but she doesn’t look happy."

The man raised his eyebrows, somewhat surprised.

Among countless responses over the past two years since the creation of the work, this was the most refreshing perspective he had heard.

The tide roared, the shadows darkened—it was a sign of an impending heavy rain.

If it were her guy at home, he would never let her wander on the beach and stay calm enough to sketch from a distance.

That wasn’t a man’s true love, but rather an inspiration and mold for creation.

Jiang Shuyao gently lowered her eyes, feeling inexplicably uncomfortable.

It grew quieter next to her.

The mixed-race man no longer looked at the painting; instead, his eyes, through the glasses, earnestly fixed on the girl’s graceful profile.

An ancient Chinese phrase describes such a woman’s charm.

"Her fleeting glances sparkle and allure the heart."

He couldn’t help but smile, the beauty of the person in the painting was actually far less than a fraction of this oriental face in front of him.

A withered vessel, in his eyes, was ugly and not worth mentioning, yet some people considered it as precious as moonlight in their hearts.

The man did not wait for Jiang Shuyao’s further words, as someone called him away in the middle.

Before leaving, he unabashedly left a compliment, "Your eyes are very beautiful, the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen."

Jiang Shuyao silently stared at his retreating figure, at a loss for words.

It seemed he hadn’t caught on with local customs yet, after exchanging just a few words, she had become the most beautiful girl.

In the corridor, the carefree figure of Pei Yan brushed shoulders with the mixed-race man, their momentary interaction as if two breaths intersected and collided.

The man suddenly halted, turning slightly.

"What’s wrong, Mr. Yuan?"

The person speaking beside him was the gallery manager and the personal assistant to Master Zongnan.

Under the light, the gold-rimmed glasses reflected a cold gleam, and in a few brief seconds, the man quietly withdrew his gaze: "Nothing, let’s go."

This brief interlude was not taken to heart by Jiang Shuyao, who had already prepared to end her visit when she spotted Pei Yan in the corridor.

On the way back, she searched for "True Love" on her phone, but found no information related to the painting.

To make it into Master Zongnan’s private exhibition hall, it certainly wasn’t a work by an unknown.

How could it not be searchable.

The girl was overly quiet; Pei Yan thought she was still engrossed in the paintings of a master, half-joking, "Which one did you like? I’ll get it for you."

Suddenly hearing someone next to her, Jiang Shuyao was frightened.

She closed her eyes weakly, "Thank you, but definitely not."

The painting that was still hidden in her wardrobe at home, she dared not bring it out, afraid that her mother might see it during room cleaning; how was she supposed to explain such a valuable item?

To prevent him from getting the wrong idea, Jiang Shuyao quickly changed the subject, "How did you get the invitation to the exhibition?"

"My grand uncle."

Oh.

People from the Pei Family all had connections.

"The head of the Capital Medical Institute, a good friend of my grand uncle, performed a heart bypass surgery for Master Zongnan’s wife."

So there was this connection.

She nodded in understanding and didn’t ask further.

It was still early to return to school, and Pei Yan ultimately didn’t drive that flashy sports car in.

As someone put it, it was just a means of transportation; no need to spend extra on parking fees.

The school parking lot, apart from internal staff and teachers, charged all other vehicles according to the rules.

And it was said to be quite expensive.

This was real thriftiness, Jiang Shuyao felt relieved.

Then came the problem, where should he park the car?

Recently, the graduate institute of their department had taken on a challenging software project. It was in need of three more core members, and the person in charge had contacted Old Man Jiang to discuss possibly collaborating to keep the project going.

Old Man Jiang, always focused on academia and without any scheming thoughts, made a decision with a final word; Pei Yan would lead from their group, with the remaining candidates left to his discretion.

Jiang Shuyao and Jiang Xubai were eager to try, and several other seniors were also warming up.

In the quiet meeting room, Boss Pei sat stroking his chin for a full two hours.

After wrapping up the furniture website, the base entered an expected lull.

There were plenty of ordinary projects, but special projects were scarce enough to rack one’s brains.

This rare opportunity had many eyes on it.

Among them, Princess’s innocent large eyes especially made it hard for him to resist.

"Sweetie, let’s not join this bustling scene this time; it’s too exhausting later."

"I’m not afraid of hardship. If you can do it, why can’t I?"

Pei Yan held his forehead, "Have you ever seen a man admit he can’t do something? Everyone just grits their teeth and bears it."

Jiang Shuyao sighed, "Alright, since that’s the case, I’ll go and ask Jiang Xubai what he thinks."

Someone perked up, "Come back!"

"You don’t get it, girl, staying up late is bad for your health; it pains me to see you like this."

He pulled her close with a large hand and lowered his voice, "Do you know why the research institute, notorious for valuing money over life, still goes after this project despite not having enough staff?"

Jiang Shuyao looked at him, waiting for more.

Entering such a small societal circle, Pei Yan didn’t want to shatter Princess’s beautiful expectations of the world.

She didn’t understand that there was a type of labor, cheaper than a hundred times moving bricks on a construction site.

Low cost, high efficiency; any sensible supervisor would fight to get on these kinds of projects.

The girl waited intently for him to continue, but just as Pei Yan was about to spill the beans, his phone rang on the table.

He pressed the answer button and stepped out; when he returned two minutes later, his expression was a bit odd.

"What’s wrong?" Jiang Shuyao asked.

Pei Yan stood before the conference table, pondered for a moment, then said, "I found a place to park the car."

Hmm?

Why suddenly mention this.

Jiang Shuyao hadn’t had time to figure out the situation, and it was almost time for the afternoon classes.

She packed up her things and saw that he was still not moving from the meeting room.

Jiang Xubai reminded her, "Let’s not bother with him, we should go first, someone from the graduate institute will come later, the boss should stay to receive them."

Pei Yan didn’t show up for the entire C language class, and Old Man Jiang didn’t ask.

Probably the mentors had communicated it beforehand.