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Beg Me to Remarry-Chapter 34 - 0 Landscape Painting Gallery
Chapter 34: 034 Landscape Painting Gallery
Chapter 34: 034 Landscape Painting Gallery
“I’ll go with you,” Su Cheng quickly stood up, speaking as he walked toward Fu Han.
“No need,” Fu Han moved even faster; she had already drifted out like a breeze, leaving behind only a piece of her light coffee-colored clothing at the door. The wind chimes at the cafe’s entrance made a pleasant sound.
Su Cheng stared foolishly in the direction Fu Han had left, completely unaware of Luo Qinghe’s probing gaze behind him.
“She’s got personality; no wonder you like her,” Luo Qinghe’s teasing voice rang out, barely concealing his laughter.
Su Cheng’s face reddened, but he still said earnestly, “I really do like her; I liked her from the first moment I saw her.”
“This is the first time you’ve liked someone. I can only wish you luck,” Luo Qinghe patted Su Cheng’s shoulder, pressed two hundred-yuan notes under the coffee cup, and then headed toward the doorway.
Seeing this, Su Cheng quickly followed: “Brother Qinghe, wait for me, I… Could you please help out, please don’t… don’t tell my…”
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“Don’t tell your family you’re here?” While speaking, Luo Qinghe had already stepped out of the cafe, slowly turned around with his hand on the glass door: “Don’t worry, I won’t tell them, but I reckon that even if I don’t, your parents probably already know.”
“So be it,” Su Cheng ruffled his hair, his cheeks even more flushed as he rubbed his hands: “Actually, what I wanted to ask is something else. You… You’re one of the judges for this photography contest, and it seemed like there has been some misunderstanding between you and Fu Han. Could you please… please…”
Luo Qinghe’s rising smile fell, and he let out a cold chuckle, interrupting Su Cheng: “I, Luo Qinghe, do not mix personal grudges with professional duties. The judging of this contest will be fair and impartial.”
“That’s good, that’s very good.” Su Cheng visibly sighed with relief, a smile difficult to hide on his chubby face.
Luo Qinghe looked at Su Cheng intently, said nothing more, and left without a word.
So it wasn’t just Fu Han; even Su Cheng thought he held a grudge against her.
Hidden behind sunglasses, Luo Qinghe’s eyes narrowed slightly, forming a smile.
He wouldn’t forget that day not long ago when he was invited by the Row the World Committee to Jiangshan Gallery. On the way, there was a girl standing in the middle of the street with her eyes closed, wearing a white short-sleeved top with a high ponytail, spreading her arms as if challenging death.
The sun was dazzling that day, and although he wore his usual sunglasses, even then he felt Fu Han shone brightly at that moment.
Today was no different; as a judge, he was to attend the semi-final meeting. The moment he entered Jiangshan Gallery, he saw her. His steps seemed uncontrollable as he approached her, asking for her name, inquiring if she had passed the preliminary round.
Fu Han?
Luo Qinghe silently repeated the name in his heart. Human emotions are strange; her act of offering money enraged him, yet today, her departure made him think she was rather impressive.
This was the first time he used the word “impressive” to compliment a woman.
…
Jiangshan Gallery is truly worthy of its name. Fu Han strolled leisurely; all the calligraphy, paintings, and photographs along the way were profoundly memorable—some delightfully pleasing, some soul-stirring, some purified the heart, while others were so heavy they felt like stones pressing on one’s chest.
Each piece here had a deep meaning, prompting every viewer not to skim the surface but to seriously consider the depth of the work and the meaning behind it.
Not far ahead was another pavilion, covered in innumerable ivy vines, transforming it into a natural green glutinous rice dumpling—a room formed by nature.
Fu Han pulled aside the outermost ivy, intending to step inside for a rest, when suddenly, she realized someone was already there—a stranger, a man she did not recognize.
It’s always impolite to disturb others unexpectedly, so she cleared her throat, apologized while stepping back, “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“It’s no intrusion,” the man inside the pavilion removed his sunglasses while smiling, “Miss Fu, you are welcome to come in and rest for a moment.”
Fu Han was about to leave, but upon hearing this, she frowned, pointing to her nose she asked, “You know me?”
The man stood up, appearing much taller than when he was seated, easily over one meter eighty.
He approached Fu Han and stood firm, extending his right hand, “Hello, my name is Ji Liangchuan, I’m a friend of He Xing; it was me who used his phone to call you that time.”
Fu Han finally remembered that incident; He Xing had been drunk beyond belief, and she had received a call to pick him up. That night’s ordeal, with He Xing’s drunken pestering, had solidified her resolve to move out of the He Family’s house.
She now had no good impressions of He Xing, and even less so for his friends.
Thus, as she looked at Ji Liangchuan’s exaggeratedly large, peach blossom-shaped eyes, not only did she find him unattractive, but a term also popped into her mind: “a magnet for trouble.”
She did not shake hands with Ji Liangchuan and instead stepped back two more paces, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ji. Please continue resting; I won’t disturb you any further.”
With that, she turned and left directly.
Ji Liangchuan watched the ivy sway gently and couldn’t help but laugh, “Taozi, she’s nothing like you. You wouldn’t have such sharp edges, bristling with thorns.”
Even so, he put his sunglasses back on and stepped out of the pavilion, following in the direction Fu Han had left.
After encountering Ji Liangchuan, Fu Han had a bad premonition and no longer wanted to stay in the secluded corridor. She went straight back to the crowded hall where security guards were present, instantly feeling much safer.
But as soon as she entered, Ji Liangchuan was already on her heels, “Miss Fu, do I really look that frightening? Why do you run every time you see me?”
“Please keep your distance; I’m not familiar with you,” Fu Han bristled, her instincts kicking in with hostility towards anyone and anything related to the He family.
“Yo, Fu Han, you really surprise me,” a mocking female voice sounded. With a commotion at the entrance, Xia Ning, surrounded by people, walked toward Fu Han.
Fu Han looked coldly at Xia Ning. She hadn’t checked the calendar before leaving the house and had unexpectedly met so many… people she disliked.
“Why aren’t you speaking? This isn’t like you at all,” Xia Ning flicked a strand of hair beside her ear with her delicately manicured fingers, “Fu Han, aren’t you usually sharp-tongued?”
Fu Han tilted her head, glanced exaggeratedly around, and declared in a loud voice, “This is a gallery, not a market. How come all sorts of riff-raff can come in?”
Many of the onlookers had started to laugh, covering their mouths. People tend to sympathize with the underdog, and since Xia Ning was the instigator, they naturally sided with Fu Han.
Xia Ning, with her immaculate makeup, now had a twisted expression; she was accustomed to being the center of attention, a pampered princess. Being called riff-raff to her face? How could she tolerate that?