Chapter Thirty-Eight: Are You Really the Legendary Master?

"But Uncle Steward isn't living in dire straits? Will there really be food later?" Shangguan Enran asked casually. She felt awkward being tricked into coming here; she didn't want to bear it alone.

"Dire straits? Hmm? Steward?" Huangpu Shenqing's voice grew more dangerous, his eagle-like gaze even sharper.

The steward dared not look up. "No, no, life is very good. Young Master treats us kindly, and there's always more than enough food."

Shangguan Enran stifled a laugh. Now, this was the steward she'd just met.

Watching the smile in her eyes, Huangpu Shenqing's lips curved. "Sit."

"Ah?" The steward looked up. He was the only one still standing.

"Uncle Steward, I was only joking, don't take it to heart. There's so much food here, why not join us?"

"I—I wouldn't dare," the steward stammered, afraid that once this young lady left, his life really would become dire.

"When I tell you to sit, you sit."

"Yes." The steward took a pair of chopsticks, sat down trembling, and did his best to blend into the background.

Huangpu Shenqing ladled a bowl of white fungus soup and handed it to Shangguan Enran across the table.

"Is the food not to your taste?" he asked with gentle concern.

"No, it's delicious." It truly was—better even than what she'd had in Lingnan last time.

The steward remained silent.

"Then have some soup," Huangpu Shenqing insisted, his tone brooking no refusal.

"Alright." Shangguan Enran picked up the porcelain spoon and sipped slowly.

The steward kept quiet.

"The dress and jewelry you left last time are still with me. Shall I bring them to you later?"

"Alright." She'd almost forgotten—her 'Blue Heart' was still with him.

The steward...

He felt this really wasn't the place for him.

"What made you want to paint?" Huangpu Shenqing asked, using the communal chopsticks to place food on her plate, his manner attentive and earnest.

Shangguan Enran paused, then quickly recovered. "I needed to, so I did."

"AiCo is you?" he guessed.

"Yes," Shangguan Enran nodded. There was no reason to hide it now, especially since he'd already figured it out.

"What else can you do?" He wanted to know more about her.

"Mr. Huangpu?"

Why was he asking such things?

Huangpu Shenqing looked at her in silence. Why must she always keep him at a distance?

Perhaps guessing what he meant, Shangguan Enran changed her tone. "Huangpu."

Her voice was clear as a warbler, sweet and a touch uncertain—an utterly lovely sound.

"Mm, call me that from now on," he replied, head lowered, his voice gentle as he ate.

The steward...

He wished he could gouge out his eyes. It was the first time he'd seen his young master act this way toward a girl, and the first time he'd witnessed such tenderness from him. Yet, as an outsider, he felt entirely surplus to requirements.

"I play a few instruments," Shangguan Enran said between bites. "Piano, guzheng, and some cello. When I was in Country Y, I spent a lot of time in my room, so I learned."

Her grandfather, worried for her safety, had kept her at the manor whenever she wasn't at school. That gave her time to paint and practice music.

"And the painting—is it finished?" Huangpu Shenqing barely touched his own food; simply watching her eat what he had made was enough.

"It's done," she replied. She would deliver it to Wanqing this afternoon.

"Will you be painting again tomorrow?"

If she would, he could keep cooking for her.

"I... I might do another tomorrow." The sunrise here was beautiful; she planned for her next piece to be "Sunrise."

"Then will you come again tomorrow?" he asked, hope in his tone.

"That would be too much trouble, and I..." She might finish before noon. She didn't finish before he interrupted.

"It's no trouble. I'll have the steward invite you tomorrow; it's settled."

"Steward?"

"Yes, it's no trouble. Please do come tomorrow, Miss."

"Uncle Steward, just call me Enran."

After the meal, Huangpu Shenqing handed her the bag from last time and walked her to her car.

Shangguan Enran accepted it. "Thank you for lunch, Mr. Huangpu."

Huangpu Shenqing watched her, thinking how polite she was right after a meal—so ungrateful.

Shangguan Enran got into her car and rolled down the window. "You should head back, too, Mr. Huangpu. The wind is strong here."

"Mm. Drive safely."

Huangpu Shenqing watched her car disappear before turning away. He had to learn Western cuisine—he would cook something different for tomorrow.

—

"Enran, you're amazing! You actually got a painting by AiCo!" Xia Wanqing exclaimed, holding the painting with delight. It was so vivid—the soaring seagulls, the expressions of people on the beach, even the waves crashing against the rocks were so lifelike, more impressive than "Bamboo in Dew."

"But, Enran, why does this look so much like the seafront villa in City A?"

"Because that's exactly where it's set."

"But isn't Master AiCo from Country Y? Did she come to our country recently?"

"Her family is from Country Y."

"Oh, her family is from Country Y—wait, what? Her family is from Country Y? Enran, you...?"

Enran's family was from Country Y, Enran was now in City A, and Enran had promised to get her the best painting...

"Yes, I'm AiCo."

"My god, you're really that legendary artist?" Xia Wanqing's voice rose with excitement as she jumped up—Enran was AiCo!

Everyone in the milk tea shop looked over; Xia Wanqing had insisted on meeting here for drinks. Now, with her outburst, all eyes were on them.

"Shh, Wanqing, quiet down. Sit," Shangguan Enran beckoned.

"Right, right, must be quiet." Xia Wanqing sat, taking a sip of tea to steady herself.

"Enran, I never would have guessed you were her, or that you kept it from me," Xia Wanqing complained, aggrieved.

"My fault. I'll treat you to milk tea every day from now on."

"That's more like it. Hee hee—just the thought of Huangpu Qingyin spending six hundred million on your painting and being swindled makes me happy. Not that it's not worth the price, but I'm just glad she lost six hundred million."

"Sorry, Wanqing, but I let Shangguan Miaomiao off. The one who drugged you—she won't be punished." Xia Wanqing had been targeted because of her.

"It's fine. Even if it wasn't for you, I'd spare her for Uncle Yang's sake. He's always been kind to me."

"Still, I expelled her from the company. She won't get another chance. If she does, I won't be so forgiving."