Chapter Thirty-Six: Do You Wish to Continue This Job?

The next day, Shangguan Renran entrusted the company’s affairs to Ye Zuo and Ye Xin. With the two of them in charge, she felt completely at ease.

She then gathered her painting supplies and drove to the seaside. The view here was vast and open, with an air of boundless inspiration—a perfect place to paint azure waters and blue skies.

The coastal villas in this area were also quite famous, attracting numerous business people and overseas immigrants searching for residences. The Shangguan family owned several properties here as well.

Setting up her easel, Shangguan Renran reflected on the many styles of painting she had explored: ink wash, boneless painting, oil painting, printmaking, sketching, watercolor, meticulous brushwork, freehand—she had tried them all. Yet she excelled most in ink wash, boneless painting, minimalist works, printmaking, and meticulous brushwork.

Today, she decided to paint a landscape in the ink wash style. Just as she was about to pick up her brush, her phone rang.

"Hi, AiCo? Have you heard? Your painting was auctioned for six hundred million yuan in country Z. Oh my god, baby, you are truly an angel."

Fluent foreign words sounded in her ear.

"I know, so Bell, are you calling to—?"

"Of course I am, because—"

Too many people wanted to commission AiCo's paintings, so Bell was calling to hurry her.

"So? How many pieces do I need to deliver this month?"

"Oh baby, at least three."

"Alright, I understand. Then don’t bother me again until October."

"That’s not right, darling. It’s only August now; there’s still September before October. I know your country’s calendar."

"Bell, you know I also have to run the company. My time is limited. In the future, let’s change it from one piece a month to one piece a year."

"Oh no, darling, you can’t do that. We agreed on one a month, didn’t we?"

Sometimes, she didn’t even deliver one a month. It often took several months to coax a single piece from her.

"Bell, you need to understand, too much work, too frequent output leads to fatigue. Even the finest paintings can become tiresome if seen too often. We should focus on quality, not quantity."

She had produced many paintings in the beginning to build her reputation. Now that she was well known, it was time to slow down.

"Alright, I’ll listen to you, but you must promise to finish these three pieces," Bell said, a little aggrieved. Their studio had plenty of artists, but none could capture the spirit of a painting as their boss did.

And now, their boss was reducing her output.

Shangguan Renran put away her phone. Including the one she was working on now, she needed to finish four pieces. It looked like she would have to take some days off.

But she had just finished organizing the company’s affairs. If she left now, she worried someone unscrupulous might take advantage, which would be a heavy loss.

She picked up her brush again and began to sketch lightly.

In the distance, the sea was turbulent, waves crashing with a soft “poof.” Occasionally, seagulls soared overhead. People played by the water, laughing and splashing, while children picked up shells or used small tools to build sandcastles, their faces full of joy.

It was still early morning. The autumn sun was gentle, not glaring, warming the skin with comfort.

Azure water, blue sky, bright sun, a few white clouds, and the sea breeze rustling—it was as beautiful as a painting.

Not far away, the coastal villas rose five stories high, each with space between them. On the third floor’s open-air balcony of one villa, Huangpu Shenqing reclined.

The balcony was spacious, facing south toward the sea, with transparent floor-to-ceiling windows behind, so sunlight could stream in, making the interior bright and airy.

Wearing sunglasses, Huangpu Shenqing lay on a sofa, pretending to nap.

Just then, the butler returned, calling from downstairs, “Young Master, the ingredients have arrived! Today we can learn to cook Western cuisine.”

Yesterday, his young master had learned to cook in a single day, making the butler—his supposed instructor—feel outdone. Of course, he didn’t dare consider himself a teacher, just a guide.

At his young master’s request, he’d bought ingredients for Western dishes. At this rate, not even a world-class chef could keep up with the young master’s progress.

Huangpu Shenqing removed his sunglasses and frowned. The butler was becoming more and more careless with protocol.

He stood up and glanced into the distance. Suddenly, a delicate figure caught his eye.

She wore a white, leisurely knit sweater, fastened with black buttons, over a black fitted skirt. Her long hair draped to one side.

One hand steadied the canvas, the other held a brush, sketching with graceful precision—gentle and stunning.

She reminded him of the lines, “In the north, there is a beauty, unique and peerless; at a single glance, cities fall; at another, nations tumble.”

“Young Master?” The butler, having put away the ingredients, saw his master seemed lost in thought.

Up close, it was clear—he was indeed daydreaming.

This piqued the butler’s curiosity. What scenery could be so captivating by the sea? Or perhaps, who?

He intended to take a look, but his young master abruptly turned to block his view.

“We’ll learn Western cuisine in the afternoon. For lunch, make those dishes from yesterday,” Huangpu Shenqing said, wanting to prepare them for her to taste.

“Young Master, didn’t you already master those dishes yesterday? And they were delicious! Even the seasoning and accompaniments were added with perfect judgment. The cooking was just right, and you were able to improvise—”

“I’ll have Mo Yi replace you with another butler this afternoon,” Huangpu Shenqing said, heading downstairs. The butler was simply too talkative.

“Young Master, I was wrong, I shouldn’t have spoken so much. Please, don’t dismiss me! If I leave, who will appreciate your cooking? Your friends said—”

Huangpu Shenqing paused, not looking back. “Do you want to keep this job?”