It was completely dark by the time Shen Qinglan left the station. She looked up at the night sky: there was no moon that night. The stars in the sky were a sight unseen in the capital.
She hailed a random taxi and gave an address.
On the way, she received several WeChat messages from Yu Xiaoxuan, asking her where she had gone. Shen Qinglan only made one reply, saying she would quit WeChat once she got to Hangcheng.
Yu Xiaoxuan was the one who had forced her to install WeChat, after that day when Fang Tong had made a joke about her living in ancient times. On the platform, she only added her roommates as friends and had joined their class chat.
When Yu Xiaoxuan learned that Shen Qinglan was bound for Hangcheng, she begged her to bring back Hangcheng's local specialty, or else she would ban her from stepping in their dorm room.
Shen Qinglan's mouth slightly twitched, and she typed, "Fine."
She barely put down her phone when it rang again. It was a call from Daniel.
"Oh, my dear Miss, you're finally willing to accept my call." As soon as the line was connected, Daniel's voice rang with anxiety from the other end of the call.
"What's up?" Shen Qinglan remained calm as usual, but Daniel was fretting on the other end.
"What's up? You dare to ask me what's up? My dear Miss, have you forgotten everything I told you a month ago?"
Shen Qinglan's slender brow slightly furrowed upward. She had no idea what Daniel was talking about.
Daniel might not be able to see her face, but he could tell the young woman had surely forgotten. Tearfully, he said, "I've told you last time. This month, a young artist will be holding their art exhibition in Hangcheng. The association has also invited you in the hopes that you can attend. Please don't tell me you have forgotten about it."
Indeed, Shen Qinglan had forgotten about it. Daniel had told her that exactly the week before Grandma Shen passed away. At that time, she had not been in the mood to attend any kind of art exhibition.
"Yes, I have," Shen Qinglan gave Daniel a confirmed answer, as though she had not troubled him enough.
Daniel was certainly having a breakdown now. For the hundred and eighth time, he wondered why he had agreed to become Shen Qinglan's agent. She was a tough nut to crack. He must have been out of his mind, or his brain had been caught in the door. Yes, that must have been it.
"My gosh, I've promised them that you'll definitely attend. What can we do now? Without anything to show, do you expect the organizer to have it canceled? Your paintings might have great market value now, but if we do this, who else in the circle would dare to invite you to future events?" Daniel anxiously paced around on the same spot. If Shen Qinglan had been in front of him right then, he would have definitely rushed at her and given her a good bite.
Shen Qinglan did not seem to care. Painting to her was nothing but a temporary interest. She did not intend to make a living off it, otherwise she would not have used Leng Qingqiu as her pen name. The price of her paintings would have been much higher than it was then if she painted under the Shen family name.
"I'm at Hangcheng now. The painting you ask for is ready." Shen Qinglan's statement was all it took to interrupt Daniel's mumblings.
"What did you say? You're in Hangcheng? You're not lying to me, are you? What about the painting? Is it with you?" Daniel got excited. It would be much easier if Shen Qinglan were in Hangcheng. But, after giving a moment's thought, something did not seem right. Shen Qinglan never showed herself in public. Why would she deliberately come to Hangcheng? And with a painting, no less?
Daniel, as her agent, was probably the only person who knew that the well-known young painter Leng Qingqiu's true identity was Shen Qinglan.
"I've left the painting at home. The key's with the guard. You can get it yourself."
"That's great! We're a week away from the art exhibition. How fortunate that we can make it in time! I'm off to get your painting now," Daniel swiftly walked toward the parking lot.
"Oh, one more thing. There's a young painters' salon after the exhibition ends. Since you're in Hangcheng, you might as well attend the event. Get to know other artists. You're all in the same circle. It's always good to collect more contacts."
"No, you can take my place. I don't want other people to know yet," Shen Qinglan declined.
Daniel did not seem disappointed. This was not the first time, after all.
"Fine then. What are you doing in Hangcheng this time?" Daniel was no longer flustered now that he knew there was a painting to show. He had the leisure to show concern for Shen Qinglan's itinerary.
"Trying out local practices."
Daniel was satisfied with that answer. Trying out local practices was a good idea. It could inspire future pieces, which could gather popularity.
Leng Qingqiu was a young painter who suddenly emerged three years ago. No one knew who she was. The name had become well-known for its exquisite paintings, bold colors, and strange compositions. The painter was experienced with the brush, and so people thought she must be an elderly person. Later Daniel had spoken out and confirmed that Leng Qingqiu was a young individual.
Daniel was a well-known agent in the art circle. The works of the painters he could represent eventually surged to high prices. Many renown artists requested him to be their agent but he refused. He was only willing to represent one of their works.
However, three years before, Daniel had suddenly issued a statement claiming that he would no longer represent anyone else's work from then on, for he would dedicate his career to being Leng Qingqiu's agent. The news had spread and shocked the art world.
Everyone had tried to guess who Leng Qingqiu might be, but three years had passed and Leng Qingqiu had yet to make a public appearance. If not for the occasional circulation of her works, people might think that she was fictional.
Leng Qingqiu was akin to a mystery. No one knew her name, her looks, her age, her background. No one knew anything other than Leng Qingqiu being a pen name and the fact that she was a young lady.
She had very few pieces, but each were elaborate works. Outsiders had always thought of Leng Qingqiu to be quite self-demanding, putting quality before quantity.
When Daniel first heard that kind of talk, he could not resist a cackle. The woman was far from putting quality before quantity. She was just lazy. She painted whenever she pleased and could abandon the brush for half a year if she was not in the mood.
That was why Daniel was happy to finally hear that Shen Qinglan was trying out local practices.