The antique girlfriend of a chaebol heir

After returning from the Lin family's old house after the New Year, Lin Ruojin found some old books by modern writers in the library, casually packed them into a storage box, and took them home.

She had thought that there might be a few books related to Shen Ci's major, and she could pick and choose them herself. However, she did not expect that Shen Ci would be unable to take her eyes off the first book she opened.

For a whole week after that, Shen Ci seemed to be nailed to her desk.

Aside from eating, sleeping, or spending half a day at Master Yang's studio, he spends almost all his time buried in that pile of yellowed papers, too lazy to even touch his phone.

As Shen Xiaoming passed by the door of the innermost bedroom, he paused, looking at his daughter who was "forgetting to eat and sleep."

He suddenly realized that his daughter was indeed quite different from other people's daughters.

The other day I was having tea with some business partners, and we were talking about our kids. Several of them sighed and said that once their daughters went to university, they would stay in bed as long as they came home for vacation.

They either scroll through their phones until midnight or go out on dates, shopping, and afternoon tea; I've never heard of anyone staying home all day reading old books.

Shen Xiaoming smiled and agreed, feeling a bit of a sense of superiority as a father.

But now, seeing Shen Ci so engrossed in his work, he stood at the door with his teacup in hand, and suddenly felt a subtle, inexplicable anxiety.

He turned his head slightly, his gaze falling on the crystal vase on the coffee table in the living room—

Inside was a bouquet of roses in full bloom, with a rather rare color and layers of petals that exuded a delicate and precious air.

That was what Shen Ci brought back from her date with Xiao Jiang last week.

He thought it looked fresh and pretty, so he cut off a branch and put it in a vase. He even changed the water several times because he was worried that the flower would wither too quickly.

But look at your own daughter.

Ever since that bouquet of flowers came in, she seemed to have barely glanced at it.

There's not a trace of her being in love.

Shen Xiaoming's brows furrowed involuntarily.

He looked at the lonely bouquet of roses and sighed inwardly.

That kid Xiao Jiang... isn't very good.

What's the use of being handsome if you can't compete with the appeal of books?

The bedroom was quiet and still, and Shen Ci was completely immersed in the works of these modern masters.

Unlike the subtlety and restraint of ancient literature, the charm of modern literature lies precisely in the fact that it is situated in the midst of a fierce collision between the old and the new era.

Between the lines, there is both a reflection on tradition and a cry for modernity; the words are filled with struggle, awakening, and integrity.

These articles possess the classical charm of ancient books she was familiar with in her previous life, while also incorporating Western vernacular writing techniques, making them extremely captivating.

Before Shen Ci knew it, he had finished reading another book.

She stretched and realized that she hadn't checked her phone in a long time.

Upon opening it, I found several unread messages.

It was sent by Jiang Duo ten minutes ago.

He flew abroad a few days ago. The first picture is of a classical building with a very exotic style, and the following pictures are of his dinner today.

She only realized after she came into this world that different countries have different time zones—it was still noon here, but it was already evening in Jiang Duo's country.

Shen Ci felt that she should share something with him as well.

She opened the book she had just been reading, randomly flipped to a page, took a picture, and sent it over.

A few seconds later, there was a reply.

Jiang Duo: "Youyou, are you confessing your feelings to me?"

Shen Ci: "?"

Immediately afterwards, Jiang Duo sent over the photo again, and precisely circled a section of it in red.

Shen Ci leaned closer and took a look, only to realize that her casual snap had captured a poignant love poem at the bottom of the page.

Shen Ci's ears inexplicably felt hot.

She hurriedly pressed the recall button, then picked up her phone again, carefully took a picture of the other page in the book filled with philosophical reflections, and sent it over.

The reply came almost instantly.

"Withdrawal is invalid. I accept your love."

Shen Ci: "..."

There are no more replies in the WeChat chat box.

Jiang Duo couldn't help but picture Shen Ci's shy expression.

My heart felt both sweet and itchy.

He stroked the love poem on his phone. Although he knew Shen Ci had sent it to the wrong person, he couldn't suppress the joy and excitement in his heart.

Jiang Duo stood by the window, where a bustling street scene came into view.

The night was gentle, and as he gazed at the night sky, he suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to return home.

Located in the city center, the Spruce Art District in Kyoto is an open-air neighborhood that perfectly blends art, leisure, and entertainment.

This area is dotted with several art museums of different styles, and it is a popular venue for solo exhibitions by sought-after artists, making it a trendsetter in Beijing's art scene.

On Saturday morning, Shen Ci practiced inner painting for several hours in the studio, and then drove here with Master Yang in the afternoon.

Today is the opening ceremony of Ling Shuyun's art exhibition.

She was Master Yang's close friend, a very beautiful artist.

Shen Ci had met Aunt Ling twice in the studio and was deeply impressed by her.

When they arrived, a long line had already formed outside the art exhibition.

Master Yang took out two gold-embossed invitations from the inner pocket of his coat. The deep red cardstock had Ling Shuyun's name printed on it.

The staff checked the documents and respectfully led them in through a side door.

The white walls on both sides of the corridor are covered with Ling Shuyun's works—Shen Ci walked and looked at them, her steps unconsciously slowing down.

The paintings on the wall mainly depict landscapes.

It has distinctive features of Eastern aesthetics.

Shen Ci followed Master Yang through the crowd of people viewing the exhibition and walked straight into the gallery.

The inner room was quieter than the outer exhibition hall, and the lighting was softer.

Ling Shuyun was standing in front of a large painting that had not yet been unveiled when she heard footsteps and turned around.

Today she wore a smoky gray silk dress, her hair was loosely tied up, and her earrings were two pure white pearls that swayed gently as she turned around.

"Old Yang." She called out to Master Yang first, then her gaze fell on Shen Ci, and a faint smile curved her lips. "Xiao Ci is here too."

"Hello, Aunt Ling." Shen Ci greeted her politely and respectfully.

Ling Shuyun took two steps closer and reached out to lightly support Shen Ci's shoulder.

Although they had only met a few times, Ling Shuyun liked the girl in front of him from the bottom of his heart.

Shen Ci reminded her of her younger self, yet she was even more radiant and captivating, and even more gifted in terms of artistic talent.

Master Yang sat down on the sofa next to him, took the teacup handed to him by the staff, but did not drink it.

He looked around and said, "There are a lot of people here today. I just caught a glimpse of them in the corridor—Shuyun, your painting skills are much more mature than before, especially your handling of light..."

"There are a lot of people... but that doesn't necessarily mean they're all here to see the paintings." Ling Shuyun interrupted him and sat down opposite him.

"Some of these people genuinely like my paintings, some are just passing by to see what's going on, and others—"

She paused, the smile on her lips turning somewhat bitter. "I'm afraid there's another purpose behind it."