The Art of Teasing - Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Wen Zhengyu was well aware that Ye Ling's coming here to mooch meals was a case of the drunkard's intent lying elsewhere than the wine. As for where exactly that intent lay, she couldn't quite say for the moment. She had crossed paths with Ye Ling many times and had come to understand her, at least to some degree. Ye Ling did things with clear purpose and possessed a stubborn streak that wouldn't quit until she got what she wanted. She knew Ye Ling would keep coming to scrounge meals, but if Ye Ling came to scrounge, she'd just add more food—as if to suggest she was easy to push around. She rather wanted to see just how long Ye Ling could keep this meal-scrounging up.

Because Wen Zhengyu had been snacking and not thinking about her grandfather's concerns, during their after-dinner stroll, she made a point of accompanying Old Master Wen on a detour to that old street known for its many specialty snacks. She bought pastries and sweets to pay her respects to the old gentleman, and only then did the old master magnanimously forgive her.

Wen Zhengyu conveniently packed a box of pastries for herself to take to the office.

In the morning, carrying the pastries, she arrived at the studio entrance just as Ye Ling was stepping out of her car.

Ye Ling greeted her with a smile as warm as poetry: "Good morning, Zhengyu."

Wen Zhengyu replied with a faint, polite smile: "Good morning, CEO Ye."

Ye Ling's gaze fell upon the pastries in Wen Zhengyu's hand, and with a look of pleasant surprise, she asked: "Are those pastries you brought for me?"

Wen Zhengyu: "……" She froze for a moment, thinking, Which eye of yours saw that these were pastries I brought for you?

Ye Ling caught herself, and with a slightly embarrassed expression, said: "Oh, look at me! A misunderstanding, a misunderstanding!"

Wen Zhengyu, having been thrown off by Ye Ling's antics, felt rather awkward. She couldn't let a box of osmanthus cakes leave the two of them hanging in this awkwardness. She immediately smiled and said: "Actually, no misunderstanding at all." She handed the osmanthus cakes to Ye Ling, saying: "Authentic local specialty snacks, brought especially for you to try, CEO Ye."

Ye Ling, looking somewhat overwhelmed by the favor, said: "Then I truly must thank you, Zhengyu." She smoothly accepted the osmanthus cakes from Wen Zhengyu, then turned and handed Wen Zhengyu the tea her assistant was carrying, saying: "Pre-Qingming Maojian, a gift from a friend. I always feel rather embarrassed mooching tea and meals at your place, so bringing a little gift—next time I'll feel more comfortable continuing to drop by."

Wen Zhengyu very much wanted to ask: Can I refuse to accept this? Someone like Ye Ling, who came to scrounge meals like this—she was a first-time encounter. She dared say Ye Ling absolutely did not possess the slightest hint of feeling embarrassed. Yet in the comings and goings of social obligation, she couldn't refuse. She had also long been mentally prepared for Ye Ling to come mooching meals again today, and could only sigh inwardly, As expected. Smiling, she replied: "Then many thanks for the excellent tea, CEO Ye." She gestured for Ye Ling to proceed, inviting her upstairs together.

The two of them went upstairs together, then each returned to their respective offices.

The autumn auction matters had been entrusted to the auction house, and the related procedures had long been set. With the autumn auction approaching, she had instead found herself with free time. As usual, the first thing she did upon arriving at the office each day was open the doors and windows to air out the formaldehyde, then do a round through the studio—checking, for instance, whether anyone had skipped work or was late, whether any staff members were feeling unwell, whether the cleaning lady had tidied up properly, whether the tea and water for guests were prepared, whether the cups were washed clean, and other such trivial matters. Although these trivial details fell under the responsibility of the administrative and HR department, as the studio's operator, she herself also needed to keep an eye on things. After all, while these were all minor, trivial details, in running a business, one still couldn't afford to be careless. Most of the time, the studio was quiet and deserted, with hardly any customers. If it didn't at least appear orderly and well-run, she herself couldn't stand the sight. She wandered around, found nothing amiss, and only then returned to her office, which had by then been airing out for nearly an hour, to sign the report documents and forms that required her signature.

She could still manage her current workload, and since the studio had just been established, she hadn't hired an assistant to save on payroll. So tasks like delivering documents were handled by a young clerical worker from the administrative and HR department who doubled up on duties.

The young woman's surname was Ning, called Ning Ning, twenty-two years old, a recent university graduate. She was particularly fair-skinned, with a round face that always wore a smile. When she smiled, her eyes curved into crescents, her smile exceptionally sweet, with two charming little dimples on her cheeks.

Every time the young woman smiled, Wen Zhengyu wanted to reach out and pinch those cheeks. She imagined the tactile sensation would be quite nice. Of course, something like pinching a young employee's cheeks—she, as the boss, still couldn't bring herself to actually do it.

The documents sent to her were all placed in folders. Those she hadn't yet signed or reviewed were left open, placed on her left-hand side. Once she had reviewed them, signed them, they were closed and placed on her right. When the young woman finished her own work, around eleven in the morning, she would come to her office to deliver the signed documents to their respective departments. Some confidential documents were locked in drawers, filing cabinets, or the safe; for those that needed to reach various departments, she would run the errands herself.

Just after ten in the morning, the reclining chair she had asked Sun Yuan to buy was delivered. A rattan reclining chair, which complemented the studio's Chinese-style decor, and was also inexpensive—nine hundred and eighty yuan, delivery included. It arrived in a small pickup truck, and the driver even helped carry it upstairs.

Wen Zhengyu had the driver bring the reclining chair to Ye Ling's office. Since Ye Ling's office door was closed, she couldn't just barge in, so she had the driver leave it at the door, then gently knocked on Ye Ling's office door. The moment her hand touched the door, the slightly ajar door swung open.

Back when they were renovating on the cheap, using inexpensive doors—this was exactly the problem. Before she could even knock properly, the door had already been pushed open.

Wen Zhengyu had no choice but to grab the door handle and knock twice—tap tap—to get the attention of Ye Ling, who had her chair back to the door and was talking on the phone while facing the window.

Ye Ling swiveled her chair and turned her head. The expression on her face carried a kind of stern coldness, her eyes glinting with a frosty light, an extremely harsh and severe look.

That casual glance back from Ye Ling made Wen Zhengyu's heart skip a beat, a faint, chilling shiver passing through her—slightly frightening. This appearance was nothing like the Ye Ling whose smile had been lovely as a flower that morning.

Wen Zhengyu met Ye Ling's gaze, and saw Ye Ling's eyes warm in an instant as if ice and snow were melting—a transformation so swift it made Wen Zhengyu's heart lurch with alarm, fearing that Ye Ling truly might have some mental issues or psychological… something. She reined in her thoughts and quickly regained her composure, saying: "CEO Ye, your reclining chair has arrived."

Ye Ling set down the phone and exhaled deeply, saying: "Renovations at the Old Family Mansion. The workers broke something extremely important of mine while dismantling things."

Wen Zhengyu made an "mm" sound, thinking: Why are you explaining this to me? She felt that if Ye Ling were to lose her temper, it would surely be terrifying. She felt a bit guilty—had she known Ye Ling was this frightening, she would have definitely told Sun Yuan to buy a more expensive reclining chair. She turned her head, about to tell the delivery driver to bring the reclining chair inside so she could beat a hasty retreat from this lunatic, only to find that the driver had already left.

This delivery driver—truly beyond words. Told to deliver it to the door, and he delivered it to the door, and then left without even a word of notice.

A rattan reclining chair, large and bulky. She couldn't quite manage to carry it alone. Dragging it would scratch the floor tiles and the chair's base. She had no choice but to steel herself and say: "CEO Ye, could you help me carry the reclining chair in?"

Ye Ling came to the door, craned her neck to glance at the reclining chair left outside, and gave Wen Zhengyu a highly skeptical look.

Wen Zhengyu felt her ears burn under Ye Ling's gaze. She said: "A reclining chair. Lying on it for a brief nap during lunch break should still be…" She trailed off, catching Ye Ling glancing at her again, that look—rather strange. Wen Zhengyu was seized with a strong impulse to toss out a "Carry it in yourself" and flee in disarray. Yet that wasn't how things should be done, was it? Putting on an expression as if nothing were amiss, she pointed at the reclining chair, signaling for Ye Ling to help.

Ye Ling pushed up the sleeves of her suit jacket and, together with Wen Zhengyu, carried the reclining chair inside, positioning it where one could see the lake view. Ye Ling gave Wen Zhengyu a light smile and said: "In the office, lying on a reclining chair and gazing at the lake view—that should count as a kind of leisurely pleasure too, shouldn't it?"

Wen Zhengyu made an "mm" sound and said: "Should be quite nice." She added: "CEO Ye, I'll head back now then." She gestured toward her own office next door.

Ye Ling nodded gently, watching Wen Zhengyu leave. She could see that Wen Zhengyu had appeared rather startled just now by the way she looked when angry.

Wen Zhengyu returned to her office, closed the door, and picked up her phone to text Wen Li: "That lunatic Ye Ling is so terrifying."

Wen Li: "……"

Immediately after, Wen Li sent another message: "What did she do to you?"

Wen Zhengyu said: "Hard to explain."

Wen Li: "……"

A few seconds later, another message came: "Are you pulling my leg?"

Wen Zhengyu recounted to Wen Li what had just happened when she brought the reclining chair over to Ye Ling.

After hearing it, Wen Li sent back an "Oh."

Wen Zhengyu asked: "You have nothing to say?"

Wen Li replied: "As far as I know, Ye Ling has hired craftsmen to renovate the Old Family Mansion your family sold to her."

Wen Zhengyu: "……"

Wen Li replied again: "But you've already sold it. No matter what got broken, it's all hers now anyway."

Wen Zhengyu: "……" Even if it was something her family had already sold, breaking it still pained her deeply.

She thought for a long while, then sent a text to Ye Ling: "Your house renovations—what thing got broken?"

It was several minutes before Ye Ling replied with a line: "The plaque above my painting hall."

Wen Zhengyu felt a buzz in her brain, as if all the blood in her body had surged to the top of her head. When she sold the house, how had she not thought to take down the plaque from the painting hall and bring it with her? But at the time, Ye Ling had bought the entire residence—the painting hall, even the paintings—all together. That plaque had been commissioned from her grandmother, inscribed at her earnest request, when she first moved into the painting hall. Wen Zhengyu gripped her phone, so angry that her hands trembled uncontrollably. Her eyes burned hot, and a sensation like impending tears rose within her. She closed her eyes, struggled to steady her emotions, and only then rose to go to Ye Ling's office. She knocked on Ye Ling's office door. No one answered. She tried the lock—it wasn't locked. She opened the door to find the office empty.

Wen Zhengyu softly closed Ye Ling's office door, silently returned to her own office, shut the door, and leaned her back against it, her heart filled with an indescribable ache.

No matter how much it pained her, what could she say?

The thing had been sold, was no longer hers, and was beyond her control now.

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