Wen Ran and Luo Xiao, armed with the list from Shang Ge, went straight to the Apple Store.
They handed the list to the salesperson, who quickly gathered the team. By noon, Wen Ran had used Luo Xiao’s card to pay the bills.
Shortages at the store were supplemented by nearby outlets. Not in a rush, they went upstairs for lunch, waiting for Shang Ge and Lu Wenwen, who were coming to collect gifts.
At the restaurant, Wen Ran looked up from the menu and saw Shang Ge’s group, dressed so extravagantly it could pass for Paris Fashion Week.
Luo Xiao tried not to laugh; Wen Ran hid his face behind the menu.
Wen Ran muttered: “Can you behave? For the sake of all these Apples!?”
Shang Ge, flaunting wealth: “We’re billionaires! Asia’s richest! $750 billion net worth! Not dressing up would make us look shabby!”
Wen Ran: Facepalm.
Shang Ge’s group sat at the other end, stiff and posed, as if under thousands of cameras,
Lu Wenwen said, “Ranran and I were classmates in middle school.”
The meal was lively, full of chatter from Shang Ge and the others, and through their casual talk, Luo Xiao learned many amusing stories about Wen Ran’s school days.
Yet Luo Xiao noticed something subtle: whenever they discussed Wen Ran, it was about any period—except his university years and afterward.
And yet, Wen Ran had always been skilled at painting and had studied it seriously. His close friends never brought up his art.
Why not?
Luo Xiao sensed something was off but kept his expression neutral.
Later, when Wen Ran went to the restroom, Luo Xiao and Shang Ge’s group exchanged WeChat contacts. Luo Xiao casually asked, “Wen Ran loves painting—why hasn’t anyone talked about his artwork?”
The lively table suddenly fell silent.
Shang Ge and the others instinctively looked at each other. Shang Ge hesitated, retracting his phone, then glanced at Luo Xiao.
“Because…”
He stammered for a few seconds. “Because Ranran… hasn’t really painted much these past two years.”
“I remember he mentioned selling paintings to galleries?” Luo Xiao’s tone was gentle, trying to inquire without pressuring.
Shang Ge hesitated.
“Ah, forget it,” Lu Wenwen interjected. “Better not say—Ranran might get upset.”
Shang Ge responded quietly, “He’s Ranran’s husband. Sooner or later, he’ll need to know.”
They murmured to each other briefly, then turned back to Luo Xiao.
“I can only say there’s a reason he hasn’t painted much since graduating.”
“We don’t want to tell you directly, mainly because Ranran would be unhappy.”
“Just ask him yourself,” Shang Ge said.
Lu Wenwen nodded. “You’re married now, he loves you so much—he’ll tell you if he wants to.”
“Find the right moment, bring it up gently. If he’s willing, he’ll share; if not, don’t force him.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
Luo Xiao realized Wen Ran must have gone through something that caused him to stop painting after college.
Shang Ge’s group quickly moved on to other topics, asking Luo Xiao how he maintained such a fit body and if he worked out regularly.
When Wen Ran returned, he held up his phone: “All done—I paid the bill, no need for you to chip in.”
Shang Ge’s group chimed in unison: “Thanks, Mommy!”
Luo Xiao laughed again at the display.
In the afternoon, it was just Wen Ran and Luo Xiao. They browsed some sports brands, planning to spend the rest of the day casually—hiking or trekking, starting simple.
That evening, they attended Zhang Zuming’s wedding, sitting with the same group of hiking friends as before.
The wedding was lively. At the table, people asked if Wen Ran and Luo Xiao had their own wedding planned. They exchanged a smile amidst the festive music and replied:
“Not sure.”
“My mom and Luo Xiao’s parents have been traveling, haven’t discussed it yet.”
“Maybe we’ll have one.”
“But we want to go on trips together first.”
“Perhaps just a small thank-you dinner for family and friends.”
“You’ll be invited, of course.”
The friends were delighted. “Then we can all gather again!”
“Of course.”
Wen Ran smiled at Luo Xiao. Later, while chatting with a friend, Luo Xiao talked with a middle-aged couple whose son had been learning painting.
“They already visited the senior student you recommended, and it went well—they’ll transfer my son there soon.”
Turning to Luo Xiao: “Your wife is amazing. That girl at the studio praised Wen Ran endlessly—said he’s the most talented person she’s met. Sometimes during intensive sessions, they even invite him to guide the students.”
“She even told us that in college, he copied an ancient painting and a collector bought it for 200,000.”
“He was well-known among students.”
“But I heard he doesn’t paint much now?”
The couple sighed. “It’s such a waste for someone so talented.”
Luo Xiao changed the topic, thinking about how Wen Ran had been painting recently—perhaps he was getting back into it. He believed he would continue.
That night, at home, Wen Ran went to the upstairs studio. Together with Luo Xiao, they moved two of their paintings to the third floor, placing them on a dresser at the foot of the bed.
The paintings stood side by side, like Wen Ran and Luo Xiao themselves. Wen Ran turned to Luo Xiao and smiled; he returned the smile, wrapping his arm around Wen Ran’s shoulder as they admired the paintings together.
“Our parents aren’t around tomorrow—let’s go to the gallery,” Wen Ran suggested. “I can bring the new painting and let them know I’m married; we’ll bring some wedding sweets later.”
“Sounds good.”
Luo Xiao thought a moment: “Should we bring some chocolate too?”
Wen Ran shook his head: “Better to paint more for them.”
“You can come too; I’ll introduce you to them.”
“If they can’t reach me, at least they can contact you.”
She nestled into his chest, humming: “I love you so much~”
“I love you almost more than painting~~”
Luo Xiao hugged her, kissed her—her affection made him tingle. He was still concerned about why she had stopped painting before. He decided to accompany her to the gallery tomorrow—perhaps he could learn why she stopped after college.
The next day, at the gallery, Luo Xiao found himself distracted. Facing the gallery owner—a man with gold-rimmed glasses—he realized something:
Someone like Wen Ran, so talented and beautiful, surely must have had people who supported and accompanied her through the years.
And this gallery owner—wasn’t he one of them?
Luo Xiao, in that instant, felt the same rush of protectiveness he had felt for Wen Ran when facing Song Xing. He even quipped: “Sorry, I beat you to it.”
The man, calm and unbothered, replied: “Wen Ran’s thoughts are always so free-spirited. Are you sure he won’t suddenly tell you he wants a divorce and reclaim his freedom?”
For the first time, Luo Xiao wished he could smack someone with his entire fortune.