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墨書 Inktalez
In the midst of the drinking party, Zheng Mengni excused herself to the restroom for a moment of fresh air. The private room was filled with swirling smoke, and everyone was puffing on cigars. Although she was used to it, after a while, the smoke still made her feel a bit dizzy.
Sitting on the toilet, she took out her phone to check her messages. First, she looked at the class group chat. The class representative mentioned that their proposal for a used clothing recycling event had been rejected during evening study hours.
"Don't worry, let's come up with a new plan together tomorrow. We still have three days before the deadline, so there's no rush!"
Zheng Mengni couldn't help but chuckle at the response. The students at their school were either wealthy or privileged; even their cheaper clothes cost four digits. It was hard to expect those socialites to part with luxury items they had someone buy for them overseas.
After dealing with the class matters, Zheng Mengni moved on to other messages. Wei Jingxi had sent a selfie—his handsome face was bruised and battered. She had to admit, lying in that hospital bed, he looked just like someone lounging on a beach chair during vacation, embodying a carefree spirit.
His neck was slightly tilted back, and his hand hung lazily by his side.
Though she wasn't particularly concerned about how he got hurt, she felt it was necessary to maintain some decorum in their conversation.
"What happened? Does it hurt? I missed you at the banquet last night and felt really down. Seeing you injured like this makes me wish I could share some of your pain. Wei Jingxi, please get better soon; I’ll be worried otherwise."
As Wei Jingxi read her somewhat cheesy message, goosebumps crept up his arms. However, thinking of Zheng Mengni's gentle voice made it feel appropriate; such tender words coming from her felt genuine rather than insincere.
He pondered for a moment, deciding not to show how pleased he actually felt and replied with an air of indifference.
"Send a voice message next time."
Zheng Mengni quickly agreed, responding like she was comforting a child: "Okay."
Next came a message from Zhou Minshi.
"What do you mean by 'not drawing anymore'?"
Before attempting to control her, he should have considered whether he had the capability to do so. When Zhou Minshi had belittled her that day, Zheng Mengni resolved to cut ties with him.
On Tuesday morning, she sent him a message saying she didn’t need him to draw for her anymore and that she wouldn’t be finishing the last two pieces either.
Zhou Minshi didn’t grasp the severity of the situation and simply replied with a cold and aloof question mark. He believed that someone as hypocritical and prideful as Zheng Mengni wouldn’t dare confront him over something like an art exhibition; it was likely just her sulking over Duan Ya’s matter.
Zheng Mengni didn’t even bother clicking on that question mark to read his reply.
Now he asked such a boring question again, and Zheng Mengni didn't want to respond. She had made herself very clear; there was no need to repeat it.
At that moment, sitting in the Art Studio, Zhou Minshi wore a gloomy expression as he stared intently at the draft sketched on the drawing board. He couldn't understand why someone who had once cried in fear would now seek his help to fabricate something for the sake of a ridiculous reputation. Did she not realize that the art exhibition was approaching?
No need for him to paint? Or did she simply want to replace him with someone else? How naive!
Was there anyone in the world whose painting style was exactly the same as another's? Didn't she fear that if someone else painted, her father would notice something was off?
Don't be foolish, Zheng Mengni.
Zhou Minshi picked up his phone and dialed her number. After just two rings, she hung up decisively.
Zheng Mengni: "Our Zhang Yi has ended; I will delay or cancel next month's exhibition."
Seeing those four words about Zhang Yi's end, Zhou Minshi unconsciously broke the paintbrush in his hand. He slammed the broken piece onto the floor, his eyes reddening as his numb hand quickly typed on the screen.
"You are as foolish as ever. Do you think stopping your brush will prevent you from being exposed?"
Zheng Mengni: "Please don't insult me casually. I will handle the exhibition; you don't need to worry."
"Why should Zhang Yi be canceled? You were the one who brought me into this; now you expect me to just accept it while you walk away clean? Zheng Mengni, I advise you to think carefully. Without Zhang Yi's connection, I can't guarantee that I won't speak out of turn. What if I expose your secret about having me paint for you? How do you think others will view you? Let me remind you."
The lengthy message that followed left Zheng Mengni inexplicably annoyed. She had provided the funds while he contributed his effort; it had been a mutual agreement at the time. Zhou Minshi's behavior easily drained her feelings for him.
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