Chapter 18: Venice Italy Art Competition
Jian An slowly knelt down, his eyelids wet. Through the hazy mist, he looked at the ingredients he had carefully selected for so long, now turned into a mess on the floor.
He reached out to pick up the shards and throw them in the trash, but a sharp piece cut into his index finger, and bright red beads of blood immediately trickled down his hand.
It seemed that no matter what he did, in the eyes of the heartless Ji Songting, he was always wrong and could never move him.
With trembling hands, he gripped a pair of chopsticks and began picking up the rice noodles from the floor bit by bit, stuffing them into his mouth mouthful after mouthful.
“It’s fine… I’m used to it, aren’t I? What’s there to be sad about? Just sleep, and tomorrow will be a new day.”
Jian An let out a heavy sigh, his face filled only with silent sorrow. He stood up unsteadily, appearing as fragile as a hibiscus flower on the verge of withering.
After cleaning up the broken bowls in the dining room, he returned to his room alone and sent a message to Shen Yunheng:
[Yunheng, can you help me register for the Venice Art Competition? I can’t find the website.]
On the other end, Shen Yunheng replied almost instantly: [Of course I can!]
Jian An had just turned off the screen when his phone suddenly vibrated. Seeing the caller ID, he froze for a few seconds before his stiff finger swiped to answer.
“Hello… Yunheng?”
“Xiao An, youâre finally willing to think of yourself! The Venice Italy International Competition is one of the top events in the world of art. Its influence is extraordinary. I believe that with your talent, going from an unknown art teacher to a famous painter will be a piece of cake!”
The manâs voice chattered incessantly through the phone. Jian An listened quietly, pressing the phone to his ear without saying a word.
“Xiao An?”
Getting no response for a long time, Shen Yunheng grew worried. He called out tentatively again, asking:
“Are you listening? How is your body? Is your stomach better? Have you been taking your medicine?”
This string of concern easily shattered his inner defenses. A soft place in his heart instantly collapsed and fell into ruin.
Jian An covered his mouth to stop himself from letting out a sob, but he couldn’t prevent the tears from seeping through the gaps of his fingers, hitting the floor one by one like shattered glass.
Even when he was humiliated in every way by Ji Songting, he hadn’t shed a single tear from beginning to end. Why was it that just one caring sentence from Shen Yunheng made him lose control…?
A self-deprecating smile appeared on the corner of Jian Anâs lips. He wiped his cheeks and said, “Mhm… I’m listening. I’m fine now.”
Shen Yunheng immediately heard the wrongness in his voiceâthe thick nasal tone and the raspiness clearly meant he had been crying.
“What’s wrong? Tell me what happened. Don’t cry alone. Is Ji Songting bullying you again?”
Hearing this, the hand Jian An used to take his medicine suddenly shook, and a capsule fell to the floor, rolling into a corner.
He hurriedly bent over to pick it up, denying it quickly: “No… I just have a bit of a cold.”
On the other end of the phone, Shen Yunheng saw through him. “Alright, Xiao An, don’t lie to me. Don’t I know your personality? I don’t have to work tomorrow; I’ll take you out to relax. It’s settled. Don’t refuse me!”
Jian An fumbled for a while before finding the pill under the cabinet. The call had been accidentally disconnected when he leaned over.
On his phone, Shen Yunheng had sent the website for the art competition, along with a brief summary:
“Xiao An, the theme of the competition is unlimited. There is only one word to guide this artistic creation: Beauty.”
Jian An furrowed his brows slightly, his gaze resting blankly on the screen as aesthetic images flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern.
Ji Songting left the villa early in the morning. In the past, Jian An might have braced himself to ask a few questions, but now he was gradually giving up.
Because no matter how much he asked, it was to no avail.
The person who could make him in such a hurry was Shen Chuyan, right?
On the surface, Jian An pretended not to care, but his heart still throbbed with a dull ache.
He then simply tidied himself up. Today, he still had to go to the school to pack up the things he hadn’t taken when he resigned.
There weren’t many people in the faculty office area; most of the teachers were in class. Only Xu Wenjing, who was also in the art department, came over to exchange a few words of greeting.
Her words were full of deep regret and reluctance: “Teacher Jian, are you really resigning? Several of us art teachers really admire your paintings, but we won’t have the chance to learn from you anymore!”
Hearing her voice, Jian An turned around. A faint tenderness filled his eyes, and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.
“Yes. Thank you all for your care and recognition over the past year or so. If there’s a chance, definitely!”
After saying goodbye, he walked along the familiar pebble path out of the school gates. He didn’t dare look back even once, leaving behind a trail of lingering regrets.
Jian An looked down at the cardboard box in his arms. He unintentionally recalled the scene of Ji Songting forcing him to resign.
If it weren’t for those private photos that appeared out of nowhere, would he have been misunderstood?
He was 100% certain that there was nothing on his USB drive but the speech manuscript. So where did this identical USB drive come from?
Was it put there by Shen Chuyan when he borrowed his bag?
In his heart, Jian An more or less knew the answer.
But this answer, which lacked any evidence, wouldn’t be enough to make Ji Songting believe him. In fact, he would be hated even more for “framing” Shen Chuyan.
His weakness was always so easy to grasp.
Amidst his daze, several honks of a car horn suddenly rang out beside him.
Jian An snapped back to reality, stopping in his tracks to look at the side. The window of a black Mercedes-Benz was slowly being rolled down.
When he saw the person inside, a look of surprise appeared on his face. “Yunheng? Why are you here?”
The man in the car took off his sunglasses, his brows arching helplessly. He got out, took the heavy box from Jian An’s arms, and gave his forehead a doting flick. He said with a smile:
“I just told you last night that I’d take you out for a drive today. How did you forget so quickly?”
Jian An rubbed his forehead in confusion, then realized. “Oh, I remember. I’m going home after I drop these off, so I won’t go with you.”
“These things…”
Shen Yunheng shook the box slightly and immediately understood. He couldn’t help but ask, “I just saw you walking out of the school looking lost. Did you resign?”
The other man remained silent for a long time, not daring to look him in the eye.
“Why? Didn’t you love being an art teacher? Because of Ji Songting?”
Shen Yunhengâs brow was knit with anger, but seeing Jian Anâs look of being unable to speak, his heart softened instantly. He couldn’t bear to keep questioning him. He said gently:
“Forget it. I can’t get anything out of a fool like you. If you don’t want to say it, then don’t. Let’s go.”
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