novelraw Chapter 0180 One painting
Chapter 0180 One painting
The Jiang family's old residence, the dining room.
The dinner was eaten in complete silence.
Even in the garden that afternoon, Jiang's mother had already let go of her prejudice against Wen Ning, and was even moved to tears by Jiang Ci's heartfelt confession.
But this doesn't mean that the patriarch of the Jiang family—Jiang's father—can easily lose face.
Jiang's father sat in the main seat at the mahogany round table.
With a stern face.
He rarely smiles.
As a leader who has navigated the ups and downs of the business world for decades, he is accustomed to using authority to mask his emotions.
Although his son insisted on marrying her, he couldn't stop him, but he would never easily give this daughter-in-law with a "criminal record" a kind look.
Jiang Ci sat next to Wen Ning.
He didn't care at all about his father's cold face.
He served Wen Ning food and soup as if no one else was around, and even fed her fish meat with the bones removed directly to her mouth.
Every move she makes silently declares to her parents: This is the person I cherish most. You may not love her, but I do.
Looking at his son's pathetic state, Jiang's father snorted and put down his chopsticks.
The atmosphere once again fell into an awkward stalemate.
"dad."
Wen Ning put down her chopsticks at this moment.
She took a napkin and wiped her mouth, her clear voice breaking the silence of the restaurant.
Jiang's father raised his eyelids and glanced at her.
He didn't speak, but his eyes held a scrutinizing gaze.
Wen Ning was not intimidated.
She turned and glanced at Jiang Ci, who immediately understood and got up to walk to the side hall next door.
Soon, he came over with a long, rectangular, scroll-shaped object wrapped in fine brocade.
It was placed in Wen Ning's hands.
Wen Ning held the object in both hands and stood up.
He walked up to Jiang's father.
"dad."
She presented it with both hands, her attitude respectful but not servile.
"The marriage registration was so sudden that I didn't have time to prepare any expensive gifts."
"I painted this myself. Consider it a small gift for you."
Jiang's father looked at the painting handed to him.
I didn't answer immediately.
Although he is a businessman, his greatest hobby is collecting calligraphy and paintings.
People in the industry know that he has extremely high standards, and ordinary, common items simply don't meet his standards.
Moreover, he has always felt that most young people's involvement in art these days is just flashy gimmicks.
Even if Wen Ning won an international gold medal, in his eyes it might just be the result of capital manipulation.
"Let's leave it for now."
Jiang's father spoke in a calm tone as he picked up his teacup.
"Dad, please open it and take a look."
Jiang Ci, standing next to Wen Ning, suddenly interjected.
His tone carried a hint of certainty and a secret pride.
"Ningning spent a whole week drawing it."
Jiang's father frowned.
Out of consideration for his son, he put down his teacup and accepted the scroll.
Untie the ribbons of the brocade.
It unfolds slowly on the large dining table.
The moment the scroll was unfurled.
Jiang's father's previously nonchalant gaze froze instantly.
The hand holding the teacup froze in mid-air.
It was an oil painting.
However, it did not adopt the bold and colorful style of Western tradition, but instead cleverly incorporated the artistic conception of Eastern ink painting.
The painting is titled "The Spring and Autumn of the Old House".
The main subject of the picture is this courtyard house that carries the memories of several generations of the Jiang family.
Blue bricks and gray tiles, carved beams and painted rafters.
The brushstrokes are extremely delicate.
Sunlight filters through the century-old locust tree in the courtyard, casting dappled shadows on the bluestone slabs.
The transition of light and shadow is natural and warm, conveying a profound sense of time.
But what truly shocked Jiang's father was not these buildings and the interplay of light and shadow.
Rather, it's the most central and eye-catching corner of the picture.
Under the corridor of the main hall.
The wisteria was in full bloom.
Under the flower stand, there was a somewhat worn-out old-fashioned rattan chair.
The rattan chair was empty.
But on the small tea table next to it, there was a purple clay teapot, with wisps of steam rising from its spout.
An old-fashioned dark coat was draped over the armrest of the rattan chair.
It's as if the old man who always liked to sit here drinking tea and playing with walnuts had just gotten up to take a walk in the backyard and would be back soon.
That was the place that Grandpa Jiang loved to stay in when he was alive.
It was also the place where Jiang's father could see his father first thing every time he came home from get off work.
Since the old man passed away, that rattan chair has been put away.
The comforting aroma of tea is no longer present in the old house.
But now.
In this painting.
That empty corner was given a vibrant life.
There is no person in the painting.
Yet it is filled with warmth for this family, and with deep remembrance and respect for the deceased old man.
This is by no means a perfunctory work done to please elders.
Without extremely meticulous observation and genuine emotional investment, it's impossible to create a painting with such profound depth that makes people want to cry at first glance.
The restaurant was completely silent.
Jiang's mother leaned over for a look, and her eyes instantly reddened.
She covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face.
"This is... Dad's chair..."
Jiang's father sat in the main seat.
He stared intently at the wicker chair.
His usually steady and powerful hands, which were usually wielding pens, were now trembling slightly.
He was the pillar of the Jiang family and was used to keeping his emotions hidden.
But at this moment.
A layer of mist quickly gathered in those eyes that had seen so much life.
He knows painting.
Therefore, he understands even more the pure and tender heart of the person who painted this picture.
If she really is a selfish, vain, and bad woman.
How could someone possibly create such a work full of compassion and warmth?
How could he possibly remember the exact style of the old man's favorite Zisha teapot?
Jiang's father took a deep breath.
He forcefully suppressed the sob in his throat.
He raised his head.
He looked at Wen Ning, who was standing in front of him, with a complicated expression.
This time.
His eyes no longer held scrutiny or defensiveness.
There was only one deep feeling of being touched and recognized.
"The drawing is..."
Jiang's father spoke, his voice terribly hoarse.
He paused for a moment before finishing his sentence:
"It's very well drawn."
"That's very thoughtful."
Just a few words.
Hearing this from the mouth of this usually strict patriarch, it carried immense weight.
The frost on his face finally melted completely.
His tone softened, even taking on a hint of the kindness of an elder.
"Uncle Fu!"
Jiang's father turned his head and called out to the butler who was standing in the distance.
"Master, what are your orders?" The old butler hurried forward.
Jiang's father pointed to the painting on the table.
They moved very carefully, afraid of wrinkling the edges.
"Go to the study."
"Take down that original Tang Yin painting hanging on the wall in the very center and put it in the storeroom."
"Frame this painting and hang it up for me."
Uncle Fu was taken aback.
The center of the study was the place that Jiang's father valued most.
Take down the masterpiece and hang it in place of your daughter-in-law's painting?
This was unprecedented in the Jiang family, which was extremely particular about rules.
"Yes, I'll take care of it right away!"
Uncle Fu realized what was happening, his face crinkling with laughter, and he quickly stepped forward to carefully put away the scroll.
Wen Ning stood still.
He let out a long sigh of relief.
My tense shoulders finally relaxed.
She knew what such a gesture meant in a wealthy family.
This means acceptance.
This means that from this moment on, the true leader of the Jiang family has accepted her as his daughter-in-law.
Jiang Ci stepped forward.
He naturally put his arm around Wen Ning's waist.
He whispered something in her ear:
"Mrs. Jiang, you're amazing."
"You even managed to take down my dad, who's a tough nut to crack."
Wen Ning turned to look at him.
Eyebrows crooked.
"Because I received it with my sincerity."
Jiang Ci looked at her bright smile and felt a wave of tenderness wash over him.
He looked up at his parents.
This time.
There was no tense standoff.
There was no compromise.
The family sat around the dining table.
The winter snow outside the window is melting, but spring has arrived early inside the old house.