TLLKTBD CH 20

Chapter 20: Missing Person Notice

Lu Qian followed behind Ding Qiao and Jin Lang, listening and observing quietly. He also enjoyed visiting art exhibitions—the tranquil atmosphere had a way of soothing his mind, like a vast lake embracing countless rivers, allowing it to absorb his restlessness and melancholy.

But Jin Lang, on the other hand, was completely immersed in the serene environment, his excitement surging like a boiling tide. He was like a newcomer stepping into a treasure trove, wanting to see everything, touch everything. He listened intently to every word Ding Qiao said, watching him as he pointed to each painting, explaining the techniques and interpreting the emotions behind them. Jin Lang’s passion for paintings was completely different from Lu Qian’s.

For Lu Qian, art was a source of solace.

For Jin Lang, it was a grand feast.

Lu Qian found peace in it. Jin Lang burned with passion for it.

Watching Jin Lang’s burning enthusiasm, Lu Qian was deeply moved. He wanted to do something for him.

During this year—while he still belonged to him—he hoped Jin Lang would be happy.

They circled around the exhibition hall. Even though it was only the first morning of the opening day, three paintings had already been sold. Beside the descriptions of the purchased works, red circular stickers were placed as markers, indicating that the paintings had been reserved.

They stopped in front of the most recently purchased piece, but instead of a simple red circle, the marker was heart-shaped.

Ding Qiao glanced at it and chuckled, cursing under his breath, “What a lunatic.”

“Huh?” Jin Lang was puzzled. Lu Qian took a look and immediately understood.

“This must be Ji Sheng who bought it, right?” Lu Qian naturally referred to Ji Shengsheng simply as Ji Sheng.

Ding Qiao sighed helplessly, but the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. He muttered in a hushed complaint, “I originally painted this for him, but he refused to take it and insisted that I put it up for sale. I was so pissed that I nearly threw the painting away. And now he’s gone and bought it back.”

It was an oil painting—an image of a lone tree standing in the middle of a green field under a vast blue sky. The composition was simple, but the entire piece was saturated with shades of green—deep, light, bright, dark, fresh, withered, bluish, jade-like. The tree seemed to grow three-dimensionally out of the canvas.

Jin Lang leaned in for a closer look and was surprised to discover that nearly every adjacent brushstroke was painted with a different shade of green. The differences were subtle, but every leaf and every blade of grass reflected a unique hue, affected by the passage of time and the direction of sunlight. Ding Qiao had meticulously considered every detail. It was an incredibly refined painting.

Yet, what truly caught the eye was a single bright red apple growing amidst the sea of green, positioned on the left side of the painting—right where the heart would be.

Red against green—the strongest contrast, yet harmoniously coexisting.

“The Apple of One’s Eye.”

Ji Shengsheng suddenly appeared, reciting the painting’s title aloud before adding, “An apple tree… the place where my lover and I first fell in love. I bought this as a wedding gift for him. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

He then looked at Ding Qiao and softly said, “You are the apple in my eye.”

Ding Qiao gazed at him deeply and responded, “Didn’t you say that everything you have belongs to me?”

“Yes.” Ji Shengsheng nodded solemnly.

“Then you used my money to buy my painting, and you still have to pay tax on it? Can you not waste money like this, you idiot?” Ding Qiao snapped, stomping hard on Ji Shengsheng’s foot.

“Ow—!” The extravagant fool let out a miserable cry before making a hasty escape.

“Pfft…” Jin Lang couldn’t hold back his laughter. But when he noticed Ding Qiao looking at him, he quickly straightened his face.

Ding Qiao changed the subject and continued walking, asking, “You still look like a student. What’s your major? Which school are you from?”

“I started working after high school. I didn’t go to university,” Jin Lang answered.

“Oh? Why didn’t you continue your studies? You seem to have quite the eye for art. I thought you were a fine arts student from some university.”

“At the time… because…” Jin Lang hesitated, unable to say it outright. He had once been so close to his dream, yet in the end, even that nearness had slipped away. Bringing it up again only rekindled his regret.

Lu Qian noticed his hesitation and spoke up for him, hoping to leave a better impression on Ding Qiao. “He actually got into F University’s Fine Arts Department. He almost became your student.”

“You got into F University’s Fine Arts Department?” Ding Qiao didn’t seem too surprised—just curious. “Why didn’t you attend?”

“It was too expensive. I couldn’t afford it,” Jin Lang admitted honestly.

“You said you got into F University. Our Fine Arts Department entrance exam includes a practical assessment. Do you still remember what you painted?”

While Ding Qiao was asking, Ji Shengsheng had wandered back to them. He quietly squeezed Ding Qiao’s hand, sensing a hint of nervousness in him.

Jin Lang nodded. “It was a sketch… of my parents.” He reminisced, “Back when I was in middle school, one weekend afternoon, my dad took my mom and me hiking on a small mountain near our home. I followed behind them with my camera, taking pictures. When they reached the peak and turned back, I took a photo of them. The sketch I submitted was based on that picture.”

“That must have been a happy afternoon, right?” Ding Qiao asked.

“…Yes, a very happy afternoon,” Jin Lang murmured. His gaze became distant, as if he had momentarily returned to that blissful, sunlit day.

Meanwhile, Lu Qian noticed an easel near the exit. Draped over it was a long piece of sky-blue gauze that cascaded from the top of the easel all the way down to the floor. Beside this art installation hung a sign. Curious about the name of this peculiar display, he walked over to take a look.

At the same time, he heard Ding Qiao ask, “Then why does that sketch of yours feel so sorrowful?”

What does he mean? Lu Qian hadn’t fully registered the implication behind Ding Qiao’s words.

Then, his gaze fell upon the title of the artwork.

No… it wasn’t a title.

It was—

A Missing Person Notice.

(To be continued…)