Author: Digging wild vegetables

"Mr. Chen is busy?"

After hearing the sound, Chen Yiqian raised his eyelids, feeling slightly surprised.

His face was expressionless, his lips slightly raised, and he asked Meng Qian, "Why did you think of calling me today?"

The person on the other end of the phone seemed to chuckle disdainfully, and then the disinterested voice came again from the other side.

"How come you don't know how to give me an invitation when you have a dinner party?"

Chen Yiqian suppressed the smile hanging on his lips, raised his hand slightly and refilled a cup of tea for himself. The tea leaves were tumbling in the cup, slowly rising and falling.

His eyes stared at the water droplets rolling up, and he felt much more at ease when he spoke again: "I thought you were not very interested in these occasions, not to mention that you are not suitable for drinking right now."

"I just happened to be interested in this area recently. As my younger brother, I rushed over. I won't embarrass you too much, right?" Meng Qian pretended not to hear the obstruction in Chen Yiqian's mouth, and instead continued directly with the conversation.

"It's up to you." There was no change on Chen Yiqian's face, but his hand holding the tea bowl was slightly harder. He said casually: "Yao Yao has been married to me for so long, and I have never formally introduced you to him. Taking advantage of this opportunity tomorrow, you can come over and recognize your sister-in-law."

Meng Gan clenched his fists in the dark, his nails digging into his palms, almost poking through the outermost layer of flesh.

He took a deep breath and pretended not to hear the implication in Chen Yiqian's mouth: "Really? The wedding hasn't been held yet, so I can't call you sister-in-law."

"The difference of ten days and a half is nothing to worry about. I will definitely send you an invitation and a special seat for the wedding."

Chen Yiqian deliberately emphasized the words "special seat", as if to clearly remind him that there was an insurmountable gap between him and Shen Yao, and he, Meng Qian, could never cross it even half an inch.

The burning irritability gradually rose. Meng Qian pressed his canine teeth against his lower lip and closed his eyelids. He didn't want to listen to Chen Yiqian's sharp words like a blade anymore, so he hung up the phone with stiff fingers.

He moved his gaze back to the canvas in front of him, as if he had found his backbone, and carefully removed the white cloth that had been covering it with both hands.

The fingers with clear joints trembled slightly, and the moment they covered the canvas, they unintentionally drew a white mark, about three centimeters long, but it was not obvious on the canvas that was covered with color.

Meng Qian expressionlessly pulled down the paper in front of him, balled it up in the palm of one hand, and threw it to the wastebasket.

The wastepaper basket was almost completely filled with clumps of canvases. Some were painted with rough sketches, and some were mostly covered with gouache. Even if the constructed effect was a millimeter different from what Meng Qian had in mind, it would still be a problem. He was abandoned without mercy.

Under the illumination of the incandescent lamp in the studio, Meng Qian looked at the waste paper that had submerged in the wastepaper basket, and suddenly he was stunned. He calmed down his thoughts on painting for a while, and thought unconsciously in his mind.

Did Shen Yao just throw him into the wastebasket like he did with the scrapped manuscript, even though this scrapped manuscript was already almost perfect?

Meng Qian once again moved his gaze to the white paper that had been laid out in front of him, and tapped his index finger lightly on the drawing board: "It doesn't matter if she doesn't remember, as long as I remember."

He will make Shen Yao remember it, no matter how.
Chapter completed!