PPS Chapter 179

Chapter 179: Two Paintings

Chapter 179: Two Paintings

As the two strolled into the exhibition hall displaying Chu Zhaoyi’s artworks, they suddenly heard a harsh burst of discussion. A man in a flashy suit was standing in front of one of Chu Zhaoyi’s paintings, loudly proclaiming, “This painting is too gloomy! The painter must have psychological problems, otherwise, how could they paint something like this?”

The people around frowned, but no one stepped forward to refute him.

Xie Tingyun happened to be standing not far away. Upon hearing these words, his brow immediately furrowed. He strode over, his voice low and authoritative, “Sir, art is subjective. You may not like it, but please do not casually judge the artist’s character.”

The man was taken aback, clearly not expecting anyone to stand up and contradict him.

He sized Xie Tingyun up and down, noticing his refined attire and extraordinary bearing. Feeling a bit intimidated, he still retorted stubbornly, “I’m stating a fact. This painting is just gloomy, the painter definitely has issues!”

Xie Tingyun’s gaze was stern, his voice carrying an undeniable air of authority, “If you don’t understand art, please remain silent and do not spout nonsense here.”

Overwhelmed by Xie Tingyun’s imposing presence, the man was rendered speechless. He sullenly shut his mouth, and seeing a security guard approaching, quickly scurried away.

Chu Zhaoyi, standing not far away, took in the entire scene. He pursed his lips, feeling a surge of emotions within him.

Xie Tingyun’s defense of him was unexpected. His perception of his father stemmed entirely from Chu Yu, leading him to subconsciously assume that Xie Tingyun was the same.

However, after his disappearance last time, Brother Sanmu told him that Xie Tingyun had also searched for him for an entire day and night without rest, which had already shaken his initial assumptions.

This scene further altered his perception of the role of a “father.”

Gu Yusen glanced at him and softly asked, “Want to go over?”

Chu Zhaoyi shook his head, “No need.”

He stood there, silent for a moment, still not stepping forward until he saw Zhang Anru and Xie Yuyin notice the commotion and walk over. Only then did he turn and leave.

Gu Yusen followed behind him, not saying anything more. He simply sent a message to his assistant to investigate the man’s identity. Who would harbor such malicious intent towards Chu Zhaoyi’s paintings for no reason?

This person didn’t seem like a genuine artist.

He wondered who hired him.

He would check who was behind it. He was terrified by the previous kidnapping.

After a while, Chu Zhaoyi finally re-entered the exhibition area featuring his artworks. Professor Qin had gone to dinner with his old friends, so he and Gu Yusen took a stroll. Originally, he had planned to look for the Xie family.

But Gu Yusen strongly insisted on visiting Chu Zhaoyi’s exhibition area, so they came over.

Xie Tingyun, Zhang Anru, and Xie Yuyin were still there, huddled around a painting, whispering about something, as if nothing had happened.

Chu Zhaoyi stood in the center of the exhibition area, where most people gathered.

Gu Yusen, having never seen these two paintings before, was immediately struck by them.

Yes, two paintings.

The first painting depicted a heart suspended inside a glasscover against a dark gray background. The blood vessels resembled withered vines, twisted and tangled. Each end was adorned with rose petals that had faded to a grayish-brown hue. The edges of the petals were curled and charred, as if they were ashes solidified after being licked by flames. The glasscover was filled with a murky mist, as if every struggling breath of the heart had been trapped into a viscous sludge.

At the tear in the heart, a blue-white sprout pierced through the rotting flesh and thorns, the two young leaves like a baby’s clenched palms.

The viewer was captivated by the heart trapped inside the glasscover—the withered rose petals enveloped the heart tightly. The turbid mist inside the glasscover congealed into an aura of death, suffocating.

And the sprout emerging from the heart’s opening, the dewdrops of blood on the tender leaves like unhealed wounds, made the glimmer of hope seem particularly glaring, deepening the sense of despair and powerlessness.

This was the painting Chu Zhaoyi had painted at the Xie family residence.

In the second painting, the glasscover had long since shattered into a crystal rain. The heart had transformed into dark brown soil, and the sprout at the opening had grown into a giant tree, its trunk surging upwards, entwined with the remnants of rose petals.

The crown of the tree reached for the sky, and millions of white flowers burst into bloom among the branches. Each petal was as transparent as a newborn butterfly’s wing, and the dewdrops trembled in the heart of the flowers, refracting the brilliance of rainbow-colored diamonds. The topmost tender branches continued to grow into the void.

The viewer seemed to hear the roar of the roots tearing through the soil, feel the tremor of the trunk growing, and smell the pure fragrance of the newly bloomed petals.

Hope was no longer an illusion but a boundless force that burst forth from the depths of the wounds, shocking and moving. Especially the newly-grown red rose at the base of the roots, which adorned it particularly powerfully.

And this painting was what Chu Zhaoyi created again with his brush after he had completely recovered.

Gu Yusen stared at the two paintings for a long time.

Others might not understand, but how could he not know?

In the beginning, Ah Yi confined himself in a glasscover, stubbornly guarding a tiny bit of hope. The roots and shoots of the rose that Gu Yusen sent when he was twelve years old spread infinitely, entangling him so he could not break free.

But now, Ah Yi had broken through that layer of glasscover, turning his former wounds into soil that nourished life. That sprout that emerged from the heart’s opening had now grown into a towering tree, and the millions of flowers blooming among the branches, each one like a hope reborn from old wounds.

Gu Yusen’s gaze shifted from the paintings to Chu Zhaoyi, and he found him standing quietly not far away, his eyes deep and calm.

Unlike before, when they were always dark and empty.

Gu Yusen suddenly understood that these two paintings were not only Chu Zhaoyi’s farewell to the past but also his future.

Those past pains and struggles had now transformed into the most resilient force in his life, transforming into the nutrients for his growth.

Gu Yusen touched the young man’s head and hugged him in his arms with some heartache.

Chu Ah Yi, who had grown up so much, must have suffered a lot.

Chu Zhaoyi rubbed against Gu Yusen’s chest without restraint, like a soft kitten exposing its belly and rolling around.

The soft light in the exhibition hall shone on the paintings, and the fragments of the glasscover refracted a delicate brilliance on the canvas.

Those shackles that once confined him had now transformed into the stars beneath his feet.