Chapter 92 Mu Xianqing: Your Sweetheart

Chapter 92 Mu Xianqing: The One You Love

It felt as though his heart was about to burst from its confines, boiling over into the air. Jiang Ruotang suddenly lunged forward and hugged the other person.

"Hm?" The sound that escaped Lu Guifan's throat seemed to resonate through Jiang Ruotang's chest as well.

"Don’t worry, I was just teasing."

Lu Guifan turned his head slightly, carefully observing Jiang Ruotang's expression. "You... got flustered?"

"Yeah... I backed off." Jiang Ruotang flashed his usual smile. "You're the Academic God, the embodiment of calm and logic in my mind. You already have a unique aura—you don’t need... to be so obvious about displaying your form."

*Actually, it’s because I’m afraid that if my emotions bleed too raw onto the canvas, it might make you, who’s always so composed, uncomfortable.*

Lu Guifan let go of the hem of his shirt and leaned forward on the sofa, closing the distance between them, his expression softening further.

"When you draw me, you always seem especially concerned about how I’ll react to the painting. It’s been like this since the first time... that prize-winning portrait."

Jiang Ruotang realized he was being paranoid. It was just a lingering shadow from his past life—the more he cared about Lu Guifan, the more he feared that the unfiltered longing in his drawings would be discovered and rejected.

"Ruo Tang, you can draw me in any way you see me."

Lu Guifan’s voice was so gentle, especially in the quiet studio, as if knocking gently at the door of Jiang Ruotang’s heart.

"Hmm?" Jiang Ruotang lifted his head.

"Whether I’m clothed or not, it doesn’t matter."

There was a playful edge in his voice. Jiang Ruotang met his gaze and felt like he was about to get lost in them.

"So... what pose should I take now?" Lu Guifan tapped Jiang Ruotang’s forehead lightly with his fingertip.

Jiang Ruotang perked up immediately.

"Well, how about reading? Do you have a favorite book? I’ll draw you while you read—that way, you can stay comfortable."

"Sure. I’ve been curious about that book on your shelf—*The Free 'Barbarian'*."

"That’s Gauguin’s biography. You want to read that?"

"I do." Lu Guifan nodded.

"Okay, wait for me!"

With that, Jiang Ruotang turned and dashed out of the studio, his footsteps pattering down the steps.

"Slow down!" Lu Guifan reached out to stop him but only managed to brush the hem of his shirt.

When the studio was left with only Lu Guifan, his expression grew intense.

He no longer wanted to be the unattainable ideal in Jiang Ruotang’s heart, placed on some untouchable pedestal. He wanted to claim an unchanging space in Jiang Ruotang’s heart—one that belonged to him and him alone.

*How can I make him understand and accept that?*

For the first time, Lu Guifan felt like he needed to study—*Ten Thousand Effective Ways to Seduce Jiang Ruotang*.

Before long, Jiang Ruotang returned with the book. "Hardcovers are heavy—be careful not to drop it on your nose."

"Got it." Lu Guifan mussed Jiang Ruotang’s hair.

He leaned back naturally against the soft, cushioned backrest of the sofa. Jiang Ruotang wasn’t wrong—this sofa was incredibly comfortable. The only regret was that Jiang Ruotang was too far away.

The next second, Jiang Ruotang shifted his drawing setup and moved closer, sitting cross-legged beside the sofa. Now, all Lu Guifan had to do was glance up from the book to see him.

Jiang Ruotang tilted his head, resting it against Lu Guifan’s knee, his eyes shining as if to say, "Guess what?"

"If you sit this close, you’ll only be able to draw my face."

"This angle is special."

"How so?"

Suppressing his racing heart, Jiang Ruotang adopted a matter-of-fact tone. "It’s a lover’s perspective."

"Hmm?" Lu Guifan’s pulse stuttered. He lifted his gaze to Jiang Ruotang.

Jiang Ruotang raised his hand with an impish smile, sliding his wrist between the pages of Lu Guifan’s book, his fingertip lightly tapping his chin.

"Imagine this—your beloved is sitting by the sofa. Just as you’re most engrossed, they slip between you and the book, wrapping their arms around you, nuzzling your chin, your lips, even playfully biting your nose. They want to wreck your concentration, become the center of your world, override your logic, and ignite your desire."

Jiang Ruotang carefully controlled his tone and heartbeat, making it seem like he was just teasing. He studied Lu Guifan’s face closely, ready to retreat and laugh it off as a joke if he sensed any discomfort.

But Lu Guifan’s eyes were too deep—Jiang Ruotang couldn’t read them.

The studio fell silent. Then, Lu Guifan’s mouth quirked—just for a second—before Jiang Ruotang could get a closer look, Lu Guifan suddenly raised the book and pinned it against the back of Jiang Ruotang’s head. Caught off guard, Jiang Ruotang pitched forward, his chin hitting Lu Guifan’s chest. Then, Lu Guifan set the book aside, interlaced his fingers behind Jiang Ruotang’s head, and pulled him flush against himself.

"You wanted to cause trouble? Then go ahead—show me."

"Mmph—"

Jiang Ruotang’s nose was filled with Lu Guifan’s scent. Through the thin fabric of his T-shirt, Lu Guifan’s warmth engulfed him, sending jolts of electricity through his body, every nerve firing, blood rushing to one place.

Like a pebble disrupting a calm pond, Jiang Ruotang’s nape and ears burned, his head spinning.

*Damn it. I wanted to tease him, but he turns the tables instantly?*

*What do I do? How do I hide this?*

The moment Lu Guifan let go, he’d notice!

Just then, Lu Guifan’s phone vibrated. Unfazed, he kept Jiang Ruotang pinned, his gaze lingering on the blushing curve of Jiang Ruotang’s ears. He felt like a monster—some obsessive antagonist from a movie—because all he wanted was to press Jiang Ruotang deeper into his chest, to let his breath brand itself into his skin.

Lu Guifan knew—he loved Jiang Ruotang too much. That was why he, who was always decisive, now hesitated, couldn’t muster the nerve to commit.

They stayed like that for a while until Jiang Ruotang feebly thumped Lu Guifan’s chest, gasping, "I’m suffocating... really..."

Only then did Lu Guifan slowly release him, watching as Jiang Ruotang collapsed against him, breathing heavily, his hair a mess. Lu Guifan brushed away the wetness at the edges of Jiang Ruotang’s eye, thinking—*I should just consume him whole right then.*

But the phone persistently buzzed.

Jiang Ruotang’s arm reached around him, as if to burrow deeper. Lu Guifan’s throat burned, bone-dry, as if drained of all spit.

But Jiang Ruotang was only fishing out the phone from the sofa cushions. A messaging app alert showed an incoming call.

"Who is it? Why not just call directly?" Jiang Ruotang asked.

Lu Guifan took a deep breath, propping himself up on one arm while the other still held Jiang Ruotang’s back, loath to lose even a moment.

"Must be Professor Yang. International calls won’t go through, so he’s calling over the app."

"Oh, okay." Jiang Ruotang handed the phone to him.

Lu Guifan took the phone, and Jiang Ruotang felt instantly saved.

"Then I’ll go to the bathroom!"

Otherwise, his prized begonia would be in full bloom!

If he turned fast enough, Lu Guifan wouldn’t see.

Jiang Ruotang practically bolted for the bathroom, looking desperate, and rushed in.

Locking the door and quickly sitting on the toilet, Jiang Ruotang’s imagination ran wild. He imagined doing what he hadn’t dared to do earlier—biting him, bullying him, watching that cold, indifferent face contort with barely restrained desire.

So what if you’re strong? So what if you’re smart?

In my world, don’t you still have to let me do whatever I want?

Jiang Ruotang lost himself in the fantasy, utterly thrilled.

But after the joy came a heavier emptiness.

Because he really, truly wanted to be the only person in the world who could bully Lu Guifan mercilessly.

He lowered his eyes, exhaled deeply, then pasted on a toothy, eye-crinkling smile at the mirror before leaving the bathroom and returning to the studio.

Lu Guifan was sitting on the sofa, one hand resting on his knee, the other holding his phone. Hearing Jiang Ruotang enter, he glanced up.

"Ruo Tang..."

"What is it? Did something happen to Professor Yang?"

"It’s about their experiment—solid-state batteries. Professor Yang’s team and a European team are both competing on research for a major corporation. The European team promised a 15% increase in conversion efficiency, but Professor Yang’s team has only reached 12% so far. If they can’t achieve it, their efforts over the past several months will be wasted. And since Professor Yang’s team has many Chinese scholars and researchers, it’ll reflect poorly on Chinese researchers."

"You… how are you planning to help him?"

"I had an idea before and discussed it with him, but testing it is complex. I don’t have travel documents, so I can’t go there in time to assist. But Professor Yang said he could contact the applied physics department at Shengshi University—Professor Chen and his team are willing to cooperate and let me use their lab to verify my idea."

Jiang Ruotang immediately understood this wasn’t just about verifying a design or an idea.

The competition in new energy was a battlefield without gunpowder. Lu Guifan had already shown extraordinary talent, and Jiang Ruotang knew from his past life that he was a leading figure in this field. He had a premonition—the heights Lu Guifan would reach in his domain were beyond his own reach, even beyond his imagination.

"Are you going now?" Jiang Ruotang asked.

"There's not much time." Lu Guifan adjusted his glasses, hiding his barely contained possessiveness in his eyes.

"Then Xiao Gao and I will take you to Shengshi University. It’s quite a distance! Are you staying there?"

"I… not sure yet."

Meaning he probably would.

In his past life, Lu Guifan had vanished into a research lab for over ten days.

"I’ll pack your things right now."

"You’re not upset? I promised to be your model."

"Upset? There are thousands of handsome guys out there—if you bail on me, I’ll just find another!"

Though he knew Jiang Ruotang was just bluffing, Lu Guifan’s chest tightened. Staring at the back of Jiang Ruotang’s head, he really wanted to ask: *Who do you want to replace me with?*

Jiang Ruotang had already turned toward the bedroom, pulling out his backpack and packing Lu Guifan’s change of clothes and toiletries.

Watching him take care of him like this, Lu Guifan’s anger faded again.

…There couldn't possibly be time for anyone else to enter his studio, right?

Cai Ji and Zhao Zhangfeng were already handsome enough for Jiang Ruotang to paint.

The drive took so long that Jiang Ruotang dozed off against Lu Guifan’s shoulder.

They stopped at the gates of Shengshi University—without a parking permit, they couldn’t drive in. When Lu Guifan opened the car door, Jiang Ruotang rubbed his eyes and sat up. He rolled down the window, leaning halfway out to watch Lu Guifan’s receding figure.

Honestly, he didn’t need Lu Guifan to be physically present to paint him.

Every version of him was already imprinted on Jiang Ruotang’s heart.

Shengshi University was still in session, and most students were cramming for finals, leaving the campus quieter than usual.

The streetlights spilled over Lu Guifan’s shoulders, giving him a lonely silhouette.

He walked deeper into the campus but couldn’t resist looking back—the car was still parked at the gate, Jiang Ruotang still leaning out the window, watching him.

Being cherished like this set Lu Guifan’s heart pounding.

As if wherever he wandered, there would always be a port that was his alone.

Only when Lu Guifan had disappeared from view did Jiang Ruotang pull his head back in, patting Xiao Gao’s seat. "Let’s go, let's go home."

Xiao Gao chuckled as he drove. "You know, a guy like Lu—if he becomes a researcher in the future, will he be the kind they keep locked away, not letting outsiders see him?"

"Huh? Don't be ridiculous…?"

"He’s so handsome, he’ll probably get ‘taken care of’ internally."

Jiang Ruotang turned his face away. *Taken care of internally?* Only I get to take care of him. Anyone who tries to take care of him, I’ll deal with them first.

When Jiang Ruotang got home, he noticed the light in his father’s study was on, and Zhao Yunshu came upstairs with a plate of cut fruit.

Curious, Jiang Ruotang leaned toward Zhao Yunshu and whispered, "How’s *Drunken Immortal Terrace* going? Wasn’t filming supposed to start this summer? I don’t see Dad going to the set."

Zhao Yunshu sighed. "It’s all because of Qin Zhanchao. Isn’t he launching some idol competition show?"

"What does that have to do with *Drunken Immortal Terrace*?" Jiang Ruotang frowned.

"Your dad’s male lead defected to Young Master Qin."

That was… quite a shocker.

"Seriously? What did they offer him?"

"Young Master Qin didn’t actually intend it—one of his agents was too eager for results. They promised the guy a supporting role in a modern idol drama, easier than a fantasy series, with better pay than your dad offered, plus guaranteed career support. The guy comes from a well-off family and wanted to avoid the hassle of period costumes, wirework, or no stunt doubles. He’d rather pay the penalty than stick with your dad."

"My dad’s a famous director. That so-called male lead pulling this move… does he even want to stay in the industry? No matter how rich his family is, that won’t help him!" Jiang Ruotang wondered if the guy had lost his mind.

"Your dad on set is no pushover—I swear he has a split personality. The pressure he puts on people is insane. He treated that drama school kid like a seasoned actor. Rumor has it, after your dad ‘guided’ him on the first day, the guy couldn’t even eat."

"Wow… that fragile, huh?" Jiang Ruotang facepalmed. "But the real question is… Young Master Qin just took him in like that? Could it be that the collaboration between Dad and Hongtian Borui hasn’t smoothed things over with Young Master Qin…? Is he making a power play against Dad?"

"Not that serious. After hearing about this, Young Qin had that agent personally return the actor to your dad. He also said he doesn’t want someone with no professional integrity who can’t endure hardship.

But your dad’s temper, you know… you can't force chemistry, and this kid has already caused a negative impact on the crew. Your dad wouldn’t keep him. Still, your dad was a bit rattled. On the way home, he even asked Xiao Gao if he was too harsh."

"...At most, he’s just a rabbit that bites. So, is Dad looking for a new lead actor again?"

"Yes, time is tight, the task is heavy, and it’s giving him a headache."

"Why didn’t he tell me earlier if he’s got a headache?"

"You just finished your college entrance exams. Your dad didn’t want to… ruin your celebration."

Jiang Ruotang was speechless. His post-graduation high had already vanished the moment Lu Guifan entered the lab!

"Didn’t they find anyone suitable in the auditions?" Jiang Ruotang asked.

"Some had the right look but were too raw as actors—your dad didn’t dare coach them anymore. Others had both the acting skills and the looks but were a bit too old… Just all kinds of mismatches." Zhao Yunshu shrugged.

"Are there audition tapes? Can I see them?" Jiang Ruotang asked.

"Sure. I’ll have someone from the company send them over."

That night, Jiang Ruotang watched the audition videos on his laptop in his room.

Jiang Huaiyuan’s reputation was stellar. The moment his audition notice went out, dozens of actors showed up that very day.

There were newcomers being heavily promoted by small agencies, and even internet celebrities with pretty faces. But the whole audition was like a chaotic carnival—exaggerated expressions, wildly contorted facial features, and lines delivered like poetry recitals mixed with performances where some couldn’t even speak proper Mandarin. Jiang Ruotang couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

After laughing, Jiang Ruotang could understand his father’s headache—the entertainment industry was vast, yet not a single usable actor had shown up for the audition.

Jiang Ruotang rubbed his eyes, went downstairs to grab an ice-cold cola from the fridge, popped the tab with one hand, and as he lifted his gaze, he saw a man who was both familiar and unfamiliar appear on the screen.

The moment Jiang Ruotang locked eyes with the man in the video, he choked on his cola, spraying it all over the screen. He quickly grabbed tissues to wipe it clean.

The man stood over 185 cm tall. Though he wore a loose short-sleeved T-shirt for the audition, his shoulders were straight, and the hem of his shirt was tucked into faded jeans, making his waistline appear narrow and sharp.

His face was cold as frost, his features sharply defined, his jawline like a blade sheathed in ice, and his deep eyes resembled a lake reflecting rime.

Handsome enough to leave a lasting impression.

When he began delivering the male lead’s lines, it was immediately clear he was on a completely different level from the other auditionees—utterly crushing them.

Jiang Ruotang’s throat moved. "Oh my god—isn’t this Ling Song?"

Ten years later, Ling Song would become a critically acclaimed actor. Because he never signed with an agency and worked independently, despite having the looks of a leading man, he was often relegated to supporting roles.

In his past life, Jiang Ruotang remembered nearly vomiting blood from drinking too much while trying to secure a movie role for Bai Yingchuan. When he almost fainted in the restroom, it was Ling Song who caught him.

Rumors said Ling Song was aloof and rarely interacted with others, but that day, he looked Jiang Ruotang in the eye and said, "You’re a fiercely dedicated agent, but you’re wasting your efforts in the wrong place. Join my team—I won’t let the roles you negotiate go to waste."

Back then, Jiang Ruotang could only look up to Ling Song, who was already a respected actor. Jiang Ruotang had to address him respectfully as "Teacher Ling."

Having his abilities recognized by Ling Song had moved Jiang Ruotang, but at the time, his heart was wholly devoted to Bai Yingchuan, so he had to decline Ling Song’s offer.

Ling Song had been thirty-six then…

So the man in this audition tape was twenty-six-year-old Ling Song?

This… truly felt like a fateful reunion!

Excited, Jiang Ruotang got up and knocked on Jiang Huaiyuan’s study door. His father was frowning while on the phone, and from his expression, the conversation wasn’t going well.

After locking eyes with his son, Jiang Huaiyuan said he had something to attend to and hung up.

"Dad, who were you talking to?" Jiang Ruotang plopped down across from his father and casually lifted the lid of his teacup.

Huh, the tea was full and cold—he’d been too busy to take a single sip.

Jiang Huaiyuan shook his head helplessly. "It was Qilin Video. They want to push an actor onto us as the male lead for *Drunken Immortal Terrace*."

"Ah, and if I had to guess, they also promised to prioritize buying the streaming rights once filming wraps?"

"Right. And the actor they’re recommending is that K-pop idol they’ve been collaborating closely with lately."

Jiang Ruotang lowered his eyelids and smiled. "But you don’t want to use him, do you?"

"Of course not. How could a foreign actor capture the essence of our xianxia drama? He can’t even understand the script, let alone know what expressions to pair with each line or how to react to his co-stars properly…"

Jiang Ruotang propped his chin on his hand, watching his father’s dead-serious expression.

No matter what storms he weathered, his father’s principles never changed.

Jiang Ruotang nodded. "Plus, if you use a K-actor, selling the drama later might be tough, and securing sponsorships won’t be easy either."

Jiang Huaiyuan found his son’s perspective interesting. "Why do you think so?"

"Right now, streaming platforms’ purchasing power for dramas hasn’t surpassed TV stations yet. Once this drama is done, your primary goal is still selling it to TV stations, right?"

Jiang Huaiyuan nodded. In fact, several TV station executives had already expressed interest in the project.

"If you use a K-actor as the lead, TV stations will have to consider policy risks and image issues. Sponsorships would also lose support from traditional brands. For example, those Chinese herbal daily-care brands that have been splurging on ads lately—for their own image, they wouldn’t invest in this drama. Same goes for domestic car brands, skincare lines, etc."

The more his son analyzed, the firmer Jiang Huaiyuan’s resolve became against casting a foreign lead.

"I watched the audition tapes. That actor Ling Song—his looks and delivery were both great. Why not pick him? Is it because at twenty-six, he’s too old to play a youth?"

Jiang Huaiyuan nodded. "Yes, that’s the biggest dilemma. He’s the most outstanding among the auditionees I’ve seen, but he lacks a certain youthful energy… Logically, twenty-six isn’t old, but his maturity might stem from his life experiences. Early in his drama school days, he auditioned for a TV series. His looks and physique were top-tier, and as luck would have it, he caught the eye of Cefeng Pictures’ vice president."

"Ah, Cefeng Pictures’ VP…" Jiang Ruotang mentally scanned his memory. "That guy in his forties surnamed Han?"

He was supposedly quite handsome—sharp, well-defined features. Compared to other balding, potbellied executives, Han maintained an impressive figure, his broad shoulders and narrow waist accentuated by sleek black suits, exuding the aura of a powerful mogul.

Wasn’t this the exact trope from those entertainment industry web novels?

Jian Sha had gone through a phase obsessed with these kinds of plots—powerful benefactors doting on fresh-faced newcomers, that kind of wallpaper love…

Of course, in reality, it wasn’t so rosy.

Jiang Huaiyuan sighed. "Cefeng Pictures has deep roots in the industry."

"Huh? Didn’t their last two films and dramas flop? Plus, their executives were implicated with Lin Chengdong… Deep roots? More like riddled with holes." Jiang Ruotang made a face.

"I meant a few years ago."

"Alright, go on, Dad."

Jiang Ruotang had heard bits of Ling Song’s early career, but his father’s account was firsthand—likely different from the rumors he’d picked up as an agent in his past life.

Jiang Huaiyuan searched for a tactful way to describe the industry’s shady dealings: "Han wanted to… well… keep Ling Song. But Ling Song had too much pride and a stubborn temper—he refused."

Jiang Ruotang sneered inwardly. Hah, when two dominant partners meet, there's no such thing as a "one must submit" happy ending—only mutual destruction.

And... Ling Song has a clean reputation. He keeps himself clean, so he might not even be into men.

"Then President Han used every means to blacklist him, actively sabotage his career. Whenever Ling Song auditioned for a project, President Han would push his own actors in instead. Ling Song wasted five years like this—with such great potential, he never landed a decent role, never signed with an agency, just took on minor background parts in the film/TV studios."

"I get it, Dad. You're worried that after all this, he's become too cynical to play the innocent, untroubled early version of the male lead. Though he’d be perfect for the ruthless villain in the later stages."

Jiang Huaiyuan nodded immediately.

Jiang Ruotang shook his father’s shoulder. "Dad, get real! There’s no such thing as a perfect actor. Acting is all about skill. The longer you drag this project out, the more money you’ll lose."

"So... I should pick Ling Song? But I still feel like I need to understand him better."

Jiang Ruotang understood. "You want to test his temper and patience. You’re worried if he’s too extreme, he might clash with others on set? Then... let me handle him. Let me try?"

"Tang Tang, you... don't have a crush on him, do you?" Jiang Huaiyuan gasped.

Jiang Ruotang was confused. "Huh? Why would I be interested in him?"

He had standards—he didn’t just go for any handsome face.

Only Lu Guifan was his type!

"Because he and Xiao Lu are the same style of handsome—chiseled features at first glance, then you notice how nice their eyes and noses are... Both seem cold and unapproachable at first, the kind you have to use persistence to break through their reserve. But Xiao Lu is warm and soft inside—who knows about Ling Song..."

"Dad, what are you thinking?" Jiang Ruotang’s eyes widened.

"I’m thinking, since you failed to win over Xiao Lu, you’ve shifted targets..."

Jiang Ruotang’s ears burned red instantly. "I—I never pursued Lu Guifan!"

Was it because he couldn’t help but be extra nice to Lu Guifan? But Jiang Ruotang had never expected anything in return!

Jiang Huaiyuan nodded. "Others might not see it, but I’m your father."

"Who else have you told?" Jiang Ruotang panicked. He’d been planning to take it slow—if his dad ruined things now, the frog he’d been slowly working on for nearly a year would hop away.

"No one. I’ve just been quietly watching."

Jiang Ruotang exhaled. "Quietly watching what? Your son’s embarrassment?"

"Waiting for the moment you can’t hold back and confess!"

Jiang Ruotang tilted his head back. *I can’t even see Lu Guifan now—how am I supposed to confess? As if!*

But... at least Jiang Huaiyuan wasn’t opposed? Maybe even supportive?

"Alright, alright. The topic isn’t Lu Guifan—it’s Ling Song. Dad, if you don’t mind, let me talk to him?"

Seeing Jiang Ruotang’s expression, Jiang Huaiyuan realized his son had more ideas than he’d imagined. His so-called "talk" definitely wasn’t anything like President Han’s shady dealings.

Besides... his son had refined tastes. He didn’t go for coercion—he preferred nurturing a hard-to-get type, then admiring it from afar.

What he didn’t know was that his son was also being "nurtured" by others—like Mu Xianqing, a prominent figure in the art collection world and owner of Indigo Gallery. The moment Mu Xianqing heard Jiang Ruotang had finished a painting, even if he’d just attended a friend’s gallery opening, he’d excuse himself immediately and drive straight to the Jiang residence.

Sister Juan led him upstairs to the studio. After a knock, Jiang Ruotang called, "Come in." The door opened to reveal Mu Xianqing, dressed in a tailored suit, his half-long hair neatly tied back in an artistic braid. He smiled faintly at Jiang Ruotang.

"Master painter, may I come in and admire your work?"

An art student would've stood respectfully.

But Jiang Ruotang painted purely for enjoyment—he had no burning desire for fame. Spiritually, he and Mu Xianqing were equals.

"Come in." Jiang Ruotang leaned back in his chair, grinning brightly.

Mu Xianqing studied the painting in progress and paused. "This one’s quite good. Aren’t you submitting it to that Asian Rising Stars exhibition?"

"I’m using another piece."

"Where is it?"

"Against the wall."

Jiang Ruotang turned back to focusing on his painting.

Mu Xianqing walked over and found two paintings, both covered.

He grew curious. The college entrance exams had ended less than two weeks ago, yet Jiang Ruotang was already painting prolifically. Soon, the gallery could dedicate an entire section to him.

When Mu Xianqing lifted the cloth, he was immediately captivated—his emotions and senses felt momentarily suspended.

The painting depicted a young man lounging lazily on a sofa, holding a hardcover book. Black-framed glasses framed his handsome features, yet every detail—the delicate contours of his eyes behind the lenses, the faint curve of his lips, the lines of his neck, the play of light and shadow—radiated pure affection.

Beyond admiration was longing, an urge to kiss him, shatter his calm and reason, knock off those proper glasses, strip away all barriers between him and the world—to claim him fiercely, completely.

Mu Xianqing’s throat tightened. He didn’t believe such a man existed—no, not just his beauty, but that distant charm paired with raw sensuality.

Though nothing was shown, the desire was palpable.

But it wasn’t crude—it carried the untouched devotion of youth, reserved solely for one person.

Mu Xianqing coughed. "Your beloved... as exquisite and seductive as ever. Are you trying to make the whole world fall for him?"

Jiang Ruotang turned, confused, then hurriedly stood when he saw the painting. "No! Not that one!"

"Huh?"

"That one’s private..."

He grabbed the cloth and covered it again.

Mu Xianqing hesitated. "But this would be a sensation in the art world. If you exhibited it, you’d make your mark immediately! The technique is masterful, the emotional impact powerful..."

Jiang Ruotang quickly moved the painting aside. *Exactly why it can’t be shown! If Lu Guifan searched online and saw the reviews, he’d realize every joke, every tease was a hidden agenda!*

Seeing Jiang Ruotang’s guarded expression, Mu Xianqing sighed. "Good grief, the exams are over—no more worrying about his future. Why haven't you made your move yet?"