Chapter 60: Chapter 60

Shen Jianian stood still, not understanding his intention, until Zhu Yilan quietly reminded her: "The boss’s hand got dirty."

Shen Jianian reacted slowly, took the packet of tissues, and pulled out one to place in Fu Jichen’s palm.

Fu Jichen looked at her steadily, feeling amused and a bit annoyed. He stood up for her, yet she was unwilling to even wipe his hand.

Fu Jichen closed his palm, using the disinfectant tissue to repeatedly wipe the hand that President Wu had touched. His slender, artistic fingers looked like a piece of art.

President Wu’s face turned pale and red at this sight, unable to utter a word.

"Let’s go." Fu Jichen put his arm around Shen Jianian’s shoulder and returned to their original seat, not wasting time entangling with Mr. Wu.

The onlookers were amazed. After all, President Wu was a somewhat famous entrepreneur in Yicheng, yet Fu Da showed no courtesy, leaving him embarrassed with every word and action.

Shen Jianian was frightened by the incident, feeling a little down after sitting down.

Lu Yanzhi ran into an acquaintance, left the hall to chat elsewhere, and missed the drama that had ended by the time he returned. He noticed the atmosphere wasn’t right, took a sip of tea, and asked, "Did I miss something?"

Neither of them spoke, leaving Lu Yanzhi feeling awkward as he touched his nose.

The second half of the auction began. The "Green Mountains and White Birds" painting Lu Yanzhi wanted was indeed the highlight, causing a stir once it was presented, with scattered discussions spreading through the crowd.

Lu Yanzhi wondered nervously; everyone who came to the auction was knowledgeable, and many people were likely eyeing this painting.

The starting bid was 48 million. As the auctioneer’s voice fell, bidding began continuously.

In a blink of an eye, the price soared to 80 million.

Lu Yanzhi frequently drank tea to calm his nerves, quickly calculating in his mind how long it would take to repay Fu Da’s borrowed money.

"Mr. Qin bids 81 million." The auctioneer’s voice rang out with a sense of urgency, "Is there anyone offering more than 80 million?"

Fu Jichen raised the bid paddle, signaling a number.

The auctioneer excitedly announced, "Mr. Fu bids 100 million!"

Qin Fan glanced across several tables at Fu Jichen, only seeing his indifferent side profile, feeling more apprehensive. If Fu Da was interested in the painting, then he...

Before he could think of an outcome, someone beside him picked up the paddle.

The auctioneer’s voice echoed through the hall: "Mr. Qin raises the price again, the ’Green Mountains and White Birds’ painting is now at 110 million! 110 million once..."

Qin Fan glanced sideways, incredulous: "What are you doing?!"

Yin Shuyao looked back: "Dad wants us to buy this painting and bring it back, I’m following his instructions."

Qin Fan sneered, mocking her stupidity: "Are you trying to shorten the Qin Family’s longevity by opposing Fu Da?"

"It’s just a normal auction process; Mr. Fu wouldn’t be a sore loser, would he?" Yin Shuyao responded dismissively, "If he uses this to make things difficult for the Qin Family, it shows he’s not an upright person."

Qin Fan didn’t want to speak further with this shallow-minded woman, snatched the bid paddle from her hand, and coldly stated, "If you want to court disaster, go ahead, just don’t drag the Qin Family down."

Yin Shuyao frowned, letting out a hiss, looking down at her fingers. Qin Fan had forcefully taken the paddle with anger, causing its sharp edge to cut her finger, drawing blood.

Qin Fan ignored her, put away the bid paddle, not planning to compete with Fu Da, and had an explanation ready for his father.

On the other side, Fu Jichen bid 120 million.

The whole room was in uproar.

"Is there any bid higher than 120 million?" Even the experienced auctioneer struggled to remain calm, loudly announcing, "120 million once, 120 million twice, 120 million thrice! Congratulations! Congratulations to Mr. Fu for acquiring the ’Green Mountains and White Birds’ for 120 million!"

The auctioneer was the first to applaud, followed by a round of applause from the audience.

Lu Yanzhi’s heart was bleeding – this was the money he borrowed from Fu Da! He would have to repay it eventually!

Fu Jichen couldn’t care less, buttoning his suit jacket single-handedly, rising from his seat, and lead Shen Jianian away.

Lu Yanzhi would later go backstage to collect the painting, not joining them. Zhu Yilan stayed behind to assist him with the necessary procedures.

Leaving the exhibition hall, the night sky had turned a deep black.

Tonight, the stars were unusually bright, with a crescent moon hanging high, its light gentle.

Shen Jianian leaned against the back of the seat, closing her eyes for a short nap.

As they neared Rose Manor, Qu Mo spoke, breaking the silence in the car: "Boss, another car is tailing us; it’s different from last time."

Since the last time they were tracked, Qu Mo had been particularly attentive to the surroundings every time he drove.

Upon hearing this, Shen Jianian opened her eyes, gazing quietly out the window, trying to determine if the car Qu Mo mentioned was the black Audi behind them.

It seemed to be driving normally on the road, matching their car’s lane changes and turns consistently.

She noticed Qu Mo used the word "again," indicating it wasn’t the first time he was being followed.

Shen Jianian turned her head to the other side to look at Fu Jichen’s face. His expression was as usual, not worried at all. However, Shen Jianian couldn’t help but think more, guessing he might have offended someone in business, and her heart tightened.

"Let them follow." After Fu Jichen spoke, he turned his gaze and met Shen Jianian’s eyes, "Want to say something?"

Shen Jianian pressed her lips together, ultimately saying nothing.

Not long after arriving home, Zhu Yilan came to Rose Manor, accompanied by staff from the auction host.

Two staff members in suits and wearing white gloves quietly set down the cello in the dead of night and then left without disturbing the people inside.

Zhu Yilan briefly met Zhou Rongzhen in the living room, not seeing Fu Jichen and Shen Jianian.

"You can find someone to help move the cello to Miss Shen’s room, my task is completed." Zhu Yilan said with a gentle smile, politely.

Zhou Rongzhen nodded and saw her to the door, stopping under the porch, watching as she walked down the steps and got into the black car parked in the front yard.

The sound of the engine starting echoed in the silent night, turning and driving away.

Zhou Rongzhen turned around, stopped two servants, and carefully moved the cello case to Shen Jianian’s room. Zhou Rongzhen followed behind, occasionally reminding them to be careful not to bump it.

Shen Jianian was not in the room, but from the bathroom came the sound of rushing water.

Zhou Rongzhen did not disturb her, found a spot, and instructed for the cello to be placed down.

Exhausted after going out, Shen Jianian filled the bathtub with hot water and threw in a bath salt ball, foam bubbling out.

Her body was completely submerged in the water, only her neck and head were above the surface; she closed her eyes, leaned back, and accidentally fell asleep.

During a brief dream, she suddenly awakened, finding the water temperature had cooled somewhat.

Shen Jianian got out of the bathtub, rinsed off the foam under the shower, put on a nightdress, and walked back to the room, where a cello stood on the empty space by the window.

It wasn’t the same one she originally had.

Her own cello was hidden away in the walk-in closet.

Shen Jianian’s hair hung loose, water droplets from the ends trickling down her back, soaking the silk nightdress, making it feel somewhat chilly. She wrapped her hair in a dry towel and slowly walked to the window to open the cello case.

It was Yan Qiusheng’s cello, seen not long ago at the auction site across a not-too-close distance.

Yet now, it was right in front of her, within reach.

Shen Jianian’s fingers brushed across the bow, imagining twelve-year-old Yan Qiusheng in the grand concert hall, dressed in a black tailcoat, playing the cello.

Though time had long passed, the memory was still so vivid.

Shen Jianian had previously thought it was a waste of resources for someone of her skill level to use Yan Qiusheng’s cello. When she actually touched it, an indescribable urge surged within her, actions already beyond control of her mind, unconsciously taking out the cello.

She sat on the stool by the window, tuned the cello, held the bow in one hand and supported the neck with the other. An evocative cello melody lingered in the night, it was Dvořák’s B minor, drifting out with the cool breeze seeping through the window.

Fu Jichen was in the study talking on the phone when he suddenly heard the sound of a cello, thinking he had accidentally touched the computer touchpad, inadvertently opening some playback software.

Focusing on listening closely, he realized the sound was coming from another room on the same floor.

After ending the call, Fu Jichen stopped at Shen Jianian’s door, following the direction of the music, pausing a moment before entering.

Shen Jianian, wearing a smoky pink nightdress, sat by the window, her back to the door, the thin strap pressing down on her shoulder blades, as if binding a butterfly eager to fly.

The towel wrapped around her hair was loosely fallen to the floor, but she was unaware, her wet black hair hanging down, her pearl-like fair back half-hidden. It was hard to tell whether the moonlight was brighter, or she.

Lost in the music, Shen Jianian played with closed eyes, lost in thoughts of good times gone by.

She was led by her parents, her mother’s smile gentle, her voice still in her ear: "Our Little Nian will be as outstanding as Teacher Yan in the future, performing concerts around the world."

Her father patted her on the head, "When that time comes, daddy will sit in the front row to watch my precious daughter."

Someone patted her on the head, Shen Jianian opened her eyes, staring blankly into the endless night outside the window. She knew that everything from the past could only be remembered, yet she turned back hoping. Hoping it was her father behind her, telling her, "My precious daughter, you’ve worked hard practicing, go rest."

But, reality is ultimately cruel, the face behind her was clearly Fu Jichen.

He looked at her, his gaze moving from top to bottom: "I know you’re interested, but this way you’ll easily get sick."

The hope in Shen Jianian’s eyes completely extinguished.

Fu Jichen bent down to pick up the towel that had fallen to the ground, threw it on her head, the edge of the towel hanging down, blocking her view, only hearing his slightly hoarse voice say: "Dress properly, aren’t you cold?"