Wen Ran was painting.
After getting up, they packed the tent, washed up, ate breakfast, then drove to a spot with fewer people where they could get close to the lakeshore.
Luo Xiao inflated the air sofa, sealed it, and placed it on the pebbled shore by the lake. Wen Ran lay on it, sunbathing while painting.
Right in front of him was a section of Sailimu Lake. The water there was especially clear, a pale blue. Under the sunlight, the surface shimmered beautifully.
The past three months had been like this. They’d stay in one place for a few days—sometimes camping, sometimes staying in hotels.
Whenever there wasn’t much moving around to do, Wen Ran would sit or lie down quietly and paint for a while.
It was an experience he’d never had before, not even back when he was a student going out for plein-air studies—being so close to nature, suddenly having so much time to paint.
And when he painted, his heart felt very calm.
It was as if a seed had been planted inside him, sprouting and growing, filling him with an increasing sense of inner strength.
At the moment, Wen Ran was painting the water—the lake itself. Not far from the shore, a few tourists were taking photos.
As Wen Ran painted, Luo Xiao came over, bent down beside him, looked at what he was working on, then lowered his head to kiss Wen Ran on the forehead.
“Paint a bit more, then we head back to the car?”
“We’re leaving this afternoon. The weather’s good today—maybe we can drive around half the lake and take another look?”
“Sure.”
Wen Ran lifted his chin.
Luo Xiao leaned down and kissed his lips.
When they parted, Wen Ran asked, “Are my underwear dry yet?”
For most of the past half month in Xinjiang, they’d been sleeping in tents. Luo Xiao would find chances to wash Wen Ran’s underwear, then hang them on the back of the car to dry. Once, they hadn’t dried in time, so he clipped them to the car window and let them dry while driving.
Luo Xiao laughed when he heard that. “We’re going home tomorrow. If they’re not dry, they’re not dry—just wear mine.”
Wen Ran tugged at Luo Xiao’s collar and kissed him again, snorting softly. “Who wants to wear yours? They’re huge.”
In the end, Wen Ran added two little stick figures holding hands in the lower-right corner of the Sailimu Lake painting—both wearing triangle briefs.
…
While waiting to board the plane, Wen Ran posted in the group chat:
【Heading home today~】
【bouncing.jpg】
【We’re waiting for our flight】
Luo Zhenting was the first to appear: 【thumbs-up.jpg】
Then Wen Pingping: 【Finally coming back】
Ju Yaxin: 【applause.jpg】
…
After chatting in the family group for a bit, Wen Ran messaged Shang Ge:
【Going home today. Once I’m back, I’ll start painting. We’ll hang out when I’m free】
【you know.jpg】
Shang Ge: 【Holy shit】
【Who is this?】
【99 Bro, you’re finally coming back?】
Ever since Wen Ran had shared a photo of that check filled with “999999999,” Shang Ge’s group had started calling him “99 Bro.”
99 Bro replied: 【Yep. You may kneel and withdraw now】
Shang Ge: 【Wait】
【99 Bro, you’re coming back just to go into seclusion and paint—what about my funeral?】
【From the first time I said I wanted to hold my funeral until now, it’s been months!】
【Are we doing it or not?】
Wen Ran: 【You can wait until you find a boyfriend】
【You lie there, he lies beside you crying】
【Isn’t that pretty touching】
Shang Ge: 【smile.jpg】
【Thanks so much】
Then he added: 【It’s all because of you】
【Now in our group, whenever anyone looks for a boyfriend or girlfriend, they’re aiming for someone whose family can write a blank check】
【Last time Wenwen got forced into a blind date by her mom】
【She opened with telling the guy she likes blank checks】
【The matchmaker went home and almost got chewed out to death by her mom】
Wen Ran: 【soft smile.jpg】
【Isn’t that a good thing】
Shang Ge: 【soft smile.jpg】
【It really is】
【Everyone’s standards are sky-high now】
【You and Daddy Bro have totally ruined this whole crowd of us】
【We’re all gonna end up lifelong singles】
Wen Ran: 【photo】【photo】【photo】
【Bought these Hermès for you guys】
Shang Ge: 【thud thud kowtow.jpg】
【Thank you, Mommy!!!】
【Love you~~】
【Firing hearts.jpg】
【By the way, I suddenly thought of something—
I could totally use Hermès orange to decorate my funeral…】
Boarding the plane, seated in the cabin, Luo Xiao noticed Wen Ran flipping through the airline’s in-flight magazine and found it a little strange. Leaning across the aisle, he asked the window-seat Wen Ran, “Why aren’t you drawing?”
He’d thought Wen Ran would take advantage of the downtime to sketch again.
“Because once we get home, I’ll have my drawing board,” Wen Ran said, flipping pages and blinking. “I already know what I want to paint.”
The plane cut through the sky thousands of meters above the ground.
Once they were home, after a brief kiss, Wen Ran went straight up to the studio on the second floor to paint, leaving behind Luo Xiao, two large suitcases, and the villa that had just been cleaned by housekeeping Wen Pingping had arranged.
Luo Xiao received a call from Aiwon. While unpacking, he spoke into the phone. “Yeah. I’ve thought it through.”
“There’s nothing strange about it.”
“I can take ten years off work—doesn’t mean I won’t ever work again.”
“Yes, I need you to help me again…”
Upstairs in the studio, with everything prepared, Wen Ran had already lifted his brush and laid the first stroke onto the canvas.
Downstairs, after hanging up on Aiwon, Luo Xiao continued tidying up.
Just as he was about done, he finally noticed a “package” by the sofa—wrapped in a wooden frame and kraft paper.
Luo Xiao walked over. After a moment, he remembered it had been sent by Luo Feng.
Because he and Wen Ran hadn’t been home, the package had been sitting there untouched.
He already knew what it was.
He took it out of the frame and peeled away the kraft paper.
Fully revealed, it turned out to be a painting.
A vast expanse of golden yellow—wheat stalks.
And several kites, scattered at different distances.
It was the painting that had once sold for 300,000 yuan: Kites Over the Wheat.
The stolen painting.
Wen Ran’s painting.
Seeing it through photos on a phone was one thing. Seeing it with his own eyes was something else entirely.
Holding the painting, Luo Xiao studied it in silence, thinking: so this is it.
Stolen all those years ago, passed through the hands of multiple collectors, and now—finally—it had returned.
Luo Xiao looked at it quietly, thinking steadily: Wen Ran had once wanted to use this painting as his ticket into the art world. Then let it be that same painting—his starting point as he officially enters the professional circle.
The thief would, inevitably, pay the price.
For now, the painting was set aside at one corner of the dining table, leaning against the wall, resting there in silence.
One month later, in City D, at a large exhibition hall, Yan Yu’s solo art exhibition officially opened at 9:23 a.m., complete with a ribbon-cutting ceremony. Many prominent figures from the art world and related officials were present, along with crowds of fans, flowers, ribbons, and balloons. The atmosphere was lively and grand.
Yan Yu wore a gray-blue plaid suit, rimless glasses, his hair neatly combed. Suave and handsome, he looked every bit the successful professional.
He maintained a constant smile—polished and elegant—participating in the ribbon cutting, taking the stage to speak, calm and composed.
After the opening, he moved through the gallery greeting peers, seniors, and officials. Whoever he spoke with, he handled it gracefully, and everyone seemed fond of him, willing to give him face. His success was obvious.
During the socializing, he spotted Aiwon, a very well-known art agent in the industry. Somewhat surprised, Yan Yu stepped forward and shook his hand, greeting him familiarly. “Aiwon! What brings you here today?”
Aiwon, of mixed European descent with shoulder-length brown curls, smiled. “I’m here with a friend.”
“You know me—wherever there’s good stuff, that’s where I’ll be.”
Yan Yu laughed. “Then that’s truly an honor for me.”
“Take your time looking around later.”
“If there’s anything you like, be sure to tell me.”
“Of course.”
Aiwon smiled warmly as well.
Yan Yu soon moved on to greet others. There were too many people—fans included—and photos to take. Naturally, he was busy.
After making the rounds, he returned to Gallery A, where a well-known curator he was familiar with looped an arm around him and said while walking, “Teacher Yan, let me introduce you to one of your peers.”
Hm?
The curator continued, “He’s about the same age as you, also graduated from an art academy—actually, you’re alumni.”
“A painter?”
Yan Yu smiled. “Are there still painters in this field I don’t know?”
The curator said, “He only entered the industry recently. A newcomer.”
“He sold paintings before, but it wasn’t exactly a proper career in painting.”
“But he’s extremely talented.”
“Recently, his agent and company approached me—they want me to tailor a solo exhibition just for him.”
Yan Yu was a little surprised. “A newcomer getting a solo show? That’s impressive.”
He smiled. “Then I really should meet him.”
“There.”
The curator led him in a direction and pointed ahead. “That’s him.”
“You might’ve even crossed paths back in school.”
Yan Yu smiled as he followed the gesture.
But the moment he looked over, his expression froze—
In front of a painting, he saw a familiar back.
At the curator’s call of “Teacher,” the man turned around. The face and figure revealed—
If it wasn’t Wen Ran, who else could it be?
Yan Yu stopped short. His expression tightened instantly, disbelief flashing through his eyes.
In his view, Wen Ran was dressed formally, his looks still striking. Aside from skin that seemed slightly darker for some reason, he looked no different from how he had in college.
No—he was different.
In Yan Yu’s memories, Wen Ran had once been furious in public, hysterical.
But all of that was gone now.
The Wen Ran before him looked at Yan Yu with a smile.
He had finally entered the industry.
Yan Yu’s hand at his side clenched instinctively.
He recovered quickly. A smile returned to his face as he looked back at Wen Ran.
The two approached each other. Yan Yu took the initiative, extending his hand in greeting. “Long time no see.”
“It has been,” Wen Ran said, smiling as he shook his hand. “It’s been a few years.”
“You two know each other?” the curator asked in surprise.
Yan Yu said, “Yes. We were classmates in college.”
“Oh, classmates.”
The curator beamed. “I was about to play middleman. Turns out you’re already one big family.”
Nodding happily. “Great, great. That’s wonderful.”
“Have you looked around the exhibition yet?” Yan Yu asked naturally.
“Yes,” Wen Ran replied, still smiling.
“What do you think, old classmate?”
Yan Yu swore he was just making casual conversation. He didn’t need Wen Ran’s opinion on his work.
But Wen Ran smiled and said, “Mm. It’s pretty good.”
“Right?”
The curator started, “Teacher Yan—”
Wen Ran wasn’t interrupted. He finished calmly:
“Just like in college—
as ordinary as ordinary gets.”
Huh?
Curator: ?
Yan Yu: “……”
“I’m joking,” Wen Ran added with a smile. “Teacher Yan’s level, of course—”
The curator let out a breath, laughing along with Yan Yu.
Wen Ran continued, “…of course doesn’t compare to mine.”
Both of them: “……”
Yan Yu was cursing up a storm inside.