novelraw Chapter 0112 He was jealous of himself
Chapter 0112 He was jealous of himself
Lunch break.
The lounge on the top floor of the Limitless Building, next to the president's office.
This is the corner with the best view in the entire company, with a floor-to-ceiling window that lets in plenty of sunlight.
Jiang has left for a closed-door meeting with senior executives, which will last about two hours.
Wen Ning finally had a moment of leisure.
She sat on the carpet in front of the French windows.
She was holding a sketchbook, which Jiang Ci had sent a few days ago (to keep her from getting bored and from overthinking).
A charcoal pencil spins on your fingertip.
What should I draw?
The steel forest outside the window? It's too cold and hard.
The coffee cup on the table? How boring.
Wen Ning closed her eyes.
An image involuntarily surfaced in my mind.
That was the University of A library three years ago.
A seat by the window.
A young man in a white shirt and silver-rimmed glasses was looking down at a thick book of original texts.
Sunlight fell on the tips of his hair, giving him a golden edge.
That cool, clean, yet scholarly gentleness was the most beautiful white moonlight in the depths of her memory.
That was Jiang Ci before she was tainted by hatred.
He was that boy whose ears would turn red at her joke.
Wen Ning opened her eyes.
The pen in my hand began to move.
rustling.
The sound of charcoal pencils scratching paper was particularly clear in the quiet lounge.
She was very engrossed in her painting.
Every line seems to be etched in my heart.
That profile, that high, straight nose, and those glasses perched on it.
And that slightly upturned corner of his mouth, with a hint of doting affection.
I don't know how much time passed.
It's finished.
Wen Ning looked at the person on the drawing paper.
My eyes felt a little hot.
She reached out her finger and gently touched the cheek of the person in the painting.
"Aci..."
She murmured softly.
With endless nostalgia and bittersweetness.
If only it were back then.
"Click".
The lock on the lounge door clicked.
Wen Ning was lost in her emotions and didn't hear it.
Until a familiar, chilling aura drew near, until a tall shadow loomed over her.
She woke up with a start.
I instinctively wanted to close the sketchbook.
But it was too late.
One hand.
Tall and strong, it didn't try to snatch it, but instead held the edge of the sketchbook.
It stopped her from closing the lid.
Jiang Ci stood behind her.
When he came back from the meeting, he originally wanted to see what she was doing.
But I never expected to see this scene.
She stared blankly at a painting.
Her eyes were gentle, full of longing, and even tinged with tears.
That was an expression she had never shown when facing him in the past few days.
Jiang Ci's gaze followed her fingertips and landed on the drawing paper.
The person in the painting is him.
But it's not the person he is now.
That was him three years ago.
That naive college student, whom she manipulated at will, who hadn't yet been hardened by society.
That bespectacled, suave-looking "ex"
Jiang Ci's pupils contracted slightly.
He did not fly into a rage.
Instead, a deeper, more complex undercurrent was churning in his eyes.
He was jealous.
Jealous of the person in the painting.
Jealous of the self that once possessed her wholehearted (though fake) love.
Now he has money and power, and he keeps her imprisoned by his side.
But all he got in return was her fear, her obedience, and her lifelessness.
And that poor student who had nothing.
Yet, three years later, she still sheds tears and reminisces over the portrait?
"Well drawn."
He spoke.
The voice was very soft and faint, revealing no emotion.
But this caused Wen Ning's back to tense up instantly.
"Jiang... Jiang Ci..."
She wanted to explain, and she wanted to hide the painting.
"Don't move."
Jiang Ci walked around the sofa and stood in front of her.
He slowly squatted down, bringing his eyes level with hers.
He reached out and snatched the sketchbook from her hand.
The movements were not rough; in fact, they could be described as elegant.
He examined the painting closely.
Looked for a long time.
My fingertips gently traced the corners of the smiling mouth of the boy in the painting.
"Reminiscing?"
He looked up at Wen Ning.
His eyes held a hint of inquisitiveness, a half-smile.
"Still regretting it?"
"Do you regret dumping that idiot back then? Or do you think I'm too bad now and want to get back the Jiang Ci you used to be able to manipulate?"
Wen Ning shook his head frantically.
"No... I was just... doodling..."
"Just some random drawing?"
Jiang Ci chuckled softly.
He held the sketchbook between the two of them.
"How can you draw such a deep and affectionate gaze in a casual sketch?"
"Wen Ning, your pen doesn't lie."
He was testing the waters.
They were forcing her to tell them what was on her mind.
He longed for her to say, "This is what I drew," yet he was also afraid she would say, "I only liked the you from before."
This contradictory psychology made him appear both dangerous and inexplicably vulnerable.
"What a pity."
Jiang Ci sighed.
The tone was as if stating a cruel fact.
"That idiot is dead."
"You killed him with your own hands on that rainy night three years ago."
He looked at Wen Ning's face, which had turned deathly pale.
He pinched a corner of the drawing paper with his fingers.
"Since he's already dead..."
"Then there's no need to keep it."
There was no heart-wrenching scream.
There was no violent pulling or tugging.
He just watched her quietly.
Apply force slowly with your wrist.
"Sizzle—"
A slow, drawn-out tearing sound.
He slowly and deliberately tore the sketch in half.
A crack ran across the boy's face, across those gentle eyes.
Wen Ning felt as if her heart was being gripped by that hand.
She instinctively reached out to stop him.
"Don't tear it..."
Jiang Ci avoided her hand.
He put the painting, which had been torn in half, back together.
Once again, tear it open.
"Sizzle—"
He tore it very slowly.
He was even a little careless.
It was like destroying an expired document, or like performing some kind of solemn ceremony.
He is erasing the past.
It also eliminates the "love rival" who might distract her—even if that love rival is himself.
Until the painting was reduced to a pile of fragments.
He then let go.
Snowflakes of paper drifted down onto the carpet.
Wen Ning stared blankly at the shards on the ground.
That was her memory.
It was also the only pure land in her heart.
"Jiang Ci..."
She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed, but dared not cry out loud.
Why did you do this...?
Jiang Ci looked at her aggrieved expression.
A bittersweet feeling welled up inside me.
He stretched out his hand.
He grabbed the back of her head.
With a little force, pull her towards yourself.
The distance between the two instantly closed.
Their breaths mingled.
"Because I'm jealous."
He whispered in her ear.
He makes no attempt to hide his dark side.
"I don't like the way you look at him."
Even if it was me.
He let go.
He rubbed her eye corner hard with the pad of his thumb, wiping away the tear that was about to fall.
"Wen Ning".
His voice was deep and hoarse, carrying an almost obsessive coaxing quality.
"Look carefully."
"Who is the person who has you locked up by their side right now?"
Who is the person who can give you everything right now?
The Jiang Ci of the past couldn't protect you.
"But I can."
He pointed to the paintbrush on the ground.
His eyes were deep and unfathomable.
"You can draw if you want."
"But later..."
He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his chest.
That's where the heart beats.
severe.
Scalding hot.
"You are only allowed to draw me as I am now."
"In your eyes, in your writing."
"It can only be me."
Wen Ning felt the vibration coming from his palm.
She looked at the man in front of her, whose eyes were dark yet filled with possessiveness.
She understood the contradiction in his eyes.
He was using this extreme method to seek her attention.
He was telling her: Don't look back, look at me, look at me now.
Wen Ning's heart was incredibly soft.
"it is good."
She agreed softly.
There was no resistance, nor any accusation.
She reached out her hand.
She wrapped her arms around his neck.
She pressed her face against his slightly cool cheek.
"I'm not painting like I used to."
I'll draw you.
"I'll only draw you."
Jiang Ci's body stiffened for a moment.
immediately.
He hugged her tightly, like a child who had finally received candy.
He buried his head in the crook of her neck.
A very soft sigh dissipated into the air.
"Keep your word."
He said sullenly.
"Liars should be punished."