CH 106

In Qi Yanbai’s studio, there were numerous portraits of Lu Ye hanging, densely packed and displaying various expressions. At first glance, it looked like a crime scene from a suspense movie. If someone unfamiliar were to enter, they might get goosebumps and think Qi Yanbai was some kind of voyeuristic maniac.

However, Qi Zhe seemed completely oblivious to this strange atmosphere. His eyes lit up, and he appeared genuinely interested as he looked around. He bypassed the obvious sketches and made his way to the center of the studio, where the largest painting was displayed.

The massive artwork was properly framed, hanging high on the wall. Qi Zhe adjusted the spotlight, squinting to examine every brushstroke on the canvas carefully. Then, he took a step back, scanning the entire painting from top to bottom, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Beautiful,” Qi Zhe softly praised. “Absolutely beautiful.”

It was only at this moment that some emotions flickered in his eyes, resembling the expression of an “artist.”

He reached out to touch the cold frame, gazing contentedly at the painting. After a while, he didn’t even turn around before asking, “What’s the name of this painting?”

“‘Wilderness,'” Qi Yanbai replied.

“Wilderness?” Qi Zhe was initially taken aback, then he looked at Qi Yanbai and, suddenly understanding something, he took a couple of steps back to carefully examine the painting once more.

“Yes… yes, that name suits it perfectly,” Qi Zhe said, finally realizing something. He lightly clapped his hands, appearing genuinely pleased. A rare smile appeared on his lips, and the fine lines at the corners of his eyes extended to his temples.

“I’m delighted, Yanbai,” Qi Zhe seemed genuinely pleased with the painting. While speaking, his gaze never left the frame, and his fingertips followed the embossed decoration on the frame upward until they landed on a central point as if holding the gaze of the person depicted.

Under the bright exhibition light, the black-red pigment in the painting was as vivid as blood. Qi Zhe’s gaze carefully traced the markings on the figure in the painting. After a while, he chuckled softly, using his fingertip to wipe away a speck of dust from the frame’s crevice.

“After all these years, you’ve finally transformed from a skilled craftsman into an artist,” Qi Zhe remarked.

“An artist? You overestimate me,” Qi Yanbai replied coolly. “I’m not a painter, and I don’t have any artistic talent. Everything I depict in my drawings is stolen from him.”

“Is that so?” Qi Zhe asked, his tone pensive. “It seems like he inspired you, then.”

“Ah, so you can see him?” Qi Yanbai raised an eyebrow and sneered, “I thought your eyes had a blocker and couldn’t see my boyfriend.”

He emphasized the term “boyfriend” with a hint of defense, implying that Qi Zhe was unfairly criticizing Lu Ye. Qi Zhe didn’t get angry at this remark and brushed non-existent dust off his shoulder, speaking in a calm tone.

“Are you upset? It seems like he’s had quite an impact on you,” Qi Zhe remarked.

Qi Yanbai had grown used to being at a disadvantage in front of Qi Zhe. Even though he no longer needed Qi Zhe’s approval and could live independently, he still approached him with subconscious caution and sensitivity.

“It has nothing to do with you,” Qi Yanbai stated. “Don’t misunderstand. My agreement to meet with you and let you see the paintings doesn’t mean I agree to your conditions.”

“You’re right,” Qi Zhe nodded, nonchalantly adding, “After seeing this painting in person, I’ve changed my mind. Its quality exceeds my expectations, and it shouldn’t be sold too easily. Conveniently, I have an exhibition in Paris in the latter half of the year, and I can reserve a space for this piece.”

Qi Yanbai “…”

Qi Zhe’s attitude was as expected. He made decisions himself and was used to being in control. However, Qi Yanbai still had to maintain his stance. “I don’t plan to hand it over to you,” he said firmly. “I brought you here just to prove its existence.”

Being younger and less experienced in controlling his emotions, Qi Yanbai still bore the lingering influence of the inner demons Qi Zhe had imposed on him years ago. Even though he no longer needed Qi Zhe’s approval, there was still an underlying desire to prove him wrong.

Qi Zhe, seemingly oblivious to Qi Yanbai’s complex and sensitive feelings, calmly remarked, “No problem. I can agree to let you take him with you.”

Qi Yanbai was taken aback, but before he could respond, Qi Zhe continued, “If you believe he can be a source of inspiration for you, you can take him with you. If you find the visa process troublesome, I can assist in resolving it.”

Qi Yanbai remained silent for a moment, not yet forming a response. Qi Zhe had always been this way, and he had lived under these “rules” for twenty years. But when the situation involved Lu Ye, he felt an unusual anger.

“So, you only see him as my constant source of inspiration?” Qi Yanbai asked sarcastically. “Do you think of him as just a painting tool?”

Qi Zhe replied vaguely. “Your siblings all have their sources of inspiration, and you can have one too. I don’t care where you find your inspiration, whether through extreme sports or finding a same-sex partner. It doesn’t matter.”

“Love or physical relationships, as long as you like it, It’s not my business.” Qi Zhe’s tone was natural, but in this strange atmosphere of the studio, it seemed chilling.

“Of course, if he has any material needs that you can’t fulfill, you can ask me for help.” Qi Zhe continued, “I’ve set aside an ‘inspiration fund’ for each of you.”

This was consistent with Qi Zhe’s usual style. Qi Yanbai had survived under these “rules” for twenty years, but when this title was suddenly applied to Lu Ye, he felt an unexpected anger.

“You—” Qi Yanbai began.

“If you’re going to keep people as objects, shouldn’t you ask the objects for their opinion?” Qi Yanbai was interrupted before he could finish his sentence. The studio’s door was pushed open, and Lu Ye leaned casually against the doorframe, glancing at Qi Yanbai with a faint smile, gesturing for him to calm down.

Qi Zhe turned to look at him, and only now did he finally take a proper look at Lu Ye.

“This gentleman,” Qi Zhe started.

He didn’t know Lu Ye’s name, and it seemed he didn’t think it necessary to ask. Instead, he referred to him with a detached address.

“Perhaps you’re not familiar with our family’s rules,” Qi Zhe said. “I won’t make any demands on you. You can enjoy a comfortable material life as long as Yanbai continues to produce high-quality paintings at this level. Both of you can live in our family without any worries.”

“Much like your other hundred or so lovers outside?” Lu Ye asked.

Qi Zhe silently watched him, not denying the accusation.

“That sounds good,” Lu Ye drawled lazily, making a gesture to calm Qi Yanbai, who was about to interrupt with a retort. He continued with a smile, “But I think you’ve misunderstood, Mr. Qi. It’s not about whether I’m willing or not. It’s about Qi Yanbai—he has no intention of going home with you or having any kind of relationship with you.”

Lu Ye paused for a moment, then made it even clearer, “Neither he nor I have any interest in the ‘price’ you’ve set. You’re here today because Chinese values dictate that we should ‘respect our elders,’ and we can’t turn away our biological parents when they come knocking on our door—nothing more.”

Such straightforward and sharp words finally made Qi Zhe realize something. He frowned disapprovingly, turned to look at Qi Yanbai, saw that he had no intention of rebutting, and then asked with a subtle tone, “Is what he said true? You’d rather teach a bunch of kids with no technical content than be a real artist?”

Qi Yanbai was all too familiar with Qi Zhe’s tone. It didn’t sound like criticism, and it certainly didn’t sound like reprimand. Instead, it carried a condescending kind of puzzlement, as if to say that if you dared to object, he would look at you with a pitiful and disappointed expression, making you feel like a fool.

Qi Yanbai had been thrown into confusion countless times by this tone and had felt lost and cornered. It had almost become a conditioned reflex for him to instinctively raise his defenses against this emotional pressure.

But before he could respond, Lu Ye smiled first.

He smiled openly, with a hint of mischief in his tone, as if he had hooked Qi Yanbai’s restless soul gently with a little hook.

“What’s so amusing?” Qi Zhe asked.

“I heard him say before that you’re an art fanatic, dedicated to art for your whole life, and now it seems like he’s exaggerated your filter,” Lu Ye said with a smile. “I see that your understanding of money and power is quite profound, and you know how to use money to satisfy your desires.”

Qi Zhe and Qi Yanbai both seemed stunned for a moment. Qi Zhe’s face showed a hint of annoyance, as if he had been disgusted, and his brow furrowed as if he could squeeze a fly to death with it. His gaze turned cold as he stared at Lu Ye, as if he were looking at an inanimate object.

“You should be careful about what you say,” Qi Zhe said.

“Am I wrong?” Lu Ye continued in the same manner. He had a slight smile at the corner of his lips, but his face showed little amusement. His gaze remained sharp and cold as he looked at Qi Zhe, strangely resembling the person depicted in the painting behind him.

“You create rules with money, control everyone, and then use these rules to indoctrinate everyone. You permit your children to indulge and grow wild, treating them as your unique ‘works of art.’ Afterward, your ‘works of art’ will be guided by you to create more works and make more money for you. Mr. Qi, you’re obviously smarter than Qi Yanbai described.”

“So, you don’t really love art,” Lu Ye no longer used the respectful title to address Qi Zhe, instead saying sharply, “You look down on children’s creations. What you like isn’t art itself but ‘art that’s worth admiring,’ to put it more accurately.”

“Art itself has no threshold,” Lu Ye continued. “The person who creates a work of art is called an artist, whether it’s a child’s imagination or the work of a person without any professional education. Even a stick figure drawn by someone with no artistic training can be called art if they wish.”

“Perhaps you’ve been abroad for too long and don’t understand the Chinese art scene,” Lu Ye said. “In our country, anyone who can cook quite well is called a chef, and anyone who creates works is called an artist.”

Qi Zhe didn’t know whether he was shocked by Lu Ye’s “foolishness” or if he truly couldn’t find a counterargument. He fell into a prolonged and stifling silence that seemed to gradually cover the unspoken “rules,” bringing about some kind of profound change.

Qi Yanbai found it hard to describe his current feelings. He just felt that something solid in his heart was being pried loose by an unknown force, with a glimmer of light seeping through the cracks. Something was shaking and on the verge of crumbling, as if it would fall into an abyss at any moment.

After some time, a slight movement finally came from the living room, and Ashley let out a soft chuckle, breaking the silence.

Qi Zhe was stirred by the faint noise, emerging from his state of contemplation. He probably had never encountered someone as “rude” as Lu Ye, nor had he ever been taken advantage of like this. Consequently, he was genuinely infuriated, a far cry from his usual indifference.

“Are you speaking up for him?” Qi Zhe couldn’t tolerate his artistic soul being insulted by anyone. He sneered and asked, “But have you asked him whether he wants to stay in this small place?”

Lu Ye seemed to have never expected Qi Zhe to ask this question. He furrowed his brows slightly and glanced subconsciously in Qi Yanbai’s direction. However, before his gaze could meet Qi Yanbai’s, Qi Zhe took a few steps backward, pointing at the large life-sized oil painting on the wall with a chilling tone. He said, “Have you ever examined this painting carefully? Do you know what he’s thinking? You thought you understood him, but do you know he also has ambitions? You believed you had a comfortable life together, but when you look at this painting, haven’t you realized that he has always wanted to drag you into hell?”

Qi Zhe gestured toward the wall with a tone of profound pity in his eyes as he looked at Lu Ye. He sneered, “Or is it that you still haven’t realized that he wants to leave something on you?”

The exhibit light was accidentally tilted a bit by Qi Zhe. Lu Ye’s gaze refocused on the painting, and with the help of shadows and obstructions, he finally vaguely saw the shape of the imprint on the figure in the painting.

— It was Qi Yanbai’s name.