62: Approaching Feng Yixue

Jiangnan University, inside the painting studio.

Ling Xian activated the advanced painting skill he had exchanged for with two thousand villain points, his brush tip gliding across the canvas.

Spiritual Power spread out, enveloping the entire studio.

The moment Feng Yixue pushed the door open and entered, his mind stirred slightly, yet the movement of his hand never paused.

"Done."

He released his hand, and the painting floated gently to the ground.

"Paint it!"

"Drop it!"

"Pick it up!"

A three-step plan.

Sure enough, Feng Yixue happened to walk right next to the painting and bent down to pick it up.

The beauty on the canvas was lifelike, instantly capturing her gaze.

"Hello, could you return that painting to me?"

Ling Xian's voice sounded at the perfect moment.

Feng Yixue snapped back to reality, raised her hand to tuck the stray hair at her temple behind her ear, a flicker of apology flashing in her eyes.

"Sorry, your painting... is really well done."

She lowered her head in apology, her eyes meeting Ling Xian's.

Those eyes were like fallen stars; just one glance made her heart tremble slightly.

She had seen many scions of wealthy families and encountered handsome young men.

But someone as captivating as Ling Xian was a first for her.

"It's fine, my paintings were never bad to begin with," Ling Xian said indifferently.

Feng Yixue nodded.

Given her understanding of painting, she could naturally discern the skill in the artwork.

Without years of honing, it would be impossible to achieve such prowess.

"Hello, I'm Feng Yixue. May I have the pleasure of knowing you?" Her tone was polite as she proactively extended her hand.

"Ling Xian." His response was neither cold nor warm, perfectly measured.

"Have you studied Master Wu Xinyue's paintings?" Feng Yixue's eyes lit up. "Your brushstrokes bear some resemblance to hers."

"I've seen them. Her technique is exquisite, but unfortunately, the artistic conception of her works is too obscure, which is why she isn't more famous."

Hearing this, the sense of distance in Feng Yixue's eyes diminished considerably.

In the time that followed, while Feng Yixue painted, she frequently sought Ling Xian's advice.

Ling Xian noticed that before she made a stroke, she would always gaze intently at the blank canvas for a long time.

She wasn't a beauty in the traditional sense; she was more like a vivid, breathing painting.

Her skin was slightly pale from years of companionship with paint, her eyebrows delicate and faint like a distant hint of azure.

Her nose was slender and straight, the tip slightly upturned, with a speck of golden paint on it.

Her lips were lightly colored, the corners of her mouth naturally curved.

Most distinctive was her chestnut hair, loosely tied at the back, with a few strands always falling around her neck, untended.

Even Ling Xian, who had seen many wealthy young ladies, felt a flicker of surprise.

Those wealthy young ladies were all meticulously made-up and lavishly dressed. Only Feng Yixue poured all her heart and soul into her paintings.

"This is 'The Shape of Time' I picked up by the seaside when I was nineteen," Feng Yixue said, pointing excitedly at the shell on the canvas. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"It is," Ling Xian nodded in agreement, then suddenly changed the subject. "But it's too perfect. True beauty never lies in symmetrical perfection, but is hidden within those works that carry flaws."

"I'm sorry," Feng Yixue looked ashamed. "Just a moment ago, I thought you were deliberately trying to get close.

I didn't expect you to truly understand the essence of Master Wu Xinyue's work."

"It's alright," Ling Xian said gently, like a refined and modest gentleman.

"You are outstanding; there must be many who wish to approach you. Besides, today is my first time here."

These words, falling on Feng Yixue's ears, made her heart flutter like a startled deer.

Could it be she had truly met the fairytale prince charming?

Understanding art, and so gentlemanly.

Ripples stirred in Feng Yixue's heart, unaware that beneath such a perfect facade often lay deeper schemes and more treacherous traps.

The two of them chatted more and more congenially; the initial restraint in their words gradually faded, replaced by a feeling of regret at not having met sooner.

"Sister Yixue!"

A shout suddenly shattered the studio's tranquility.

Ma Yifei rushed into the studio. Seeing Ling Xian and Feng Yixue chatting happily, his world spun.

"Xiao Fei?" Feng Yixue frowned slightly, her tone tinged with displeasure.

"You... you know him?" Ma Yifei's voice was tight as he asked cautiously.

"We just met."

Hearing this, Ma Yifei secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

He shot a sidelong glance at Ling Xian, leaned closer to Feng Yixue, and lowered his voice: "Sister Yixue, this guy has a girlfriend."

Feng Yixue's brows knitted together: "What does it matter to you whether he has a girlfriend or not?"

"How is it none of my business?" Ma Yifei argued urgently, his tone vague. "I'm afraid you... I'm afraid you'll be deceived by him. He's just a scumbag."

"Get to the point," Feng Yixue's patience was worn thin.

"Heh heh," Ma Yifei gave an awkward laugh. "Can't hide anything from Sister Yixue. I have something to do this afternoon, so I can't be your model."

As he spoke, his eyes darted around, afraid of angering Feng Yixue.

But his heart was full of frustration. The system had suddenly issued a task: spend a million in one day.

It came with many restrictions: no buying cars, no buying houses.

Ma Yifei, used to being poor, was suddenly tasked with squandering a huge sum and was at a complete loss.

How could he possibly have the mind to stay and be a model?

"Get lost, get lost," Feng Yixue waved impatiently, clearly thinking such a trivial matter wasn't worth him coming to disturb her.

Ma Yifei left disgruntled. Before going, he glared fiercely at Ling Xian, his eyes full of threat.

Ling Xian acted as if he hadn't seen it.

That look, landing on him, was like punching cotton—utterly useless.

"That person just now..." Ling Xian feigned confusion, as if he had never seen Ma Yifei before.

"He's a student I once sponsored," Feng Yixue explained.

"Sponsored?" Ling Xian's brow furrowed slightly, as if pondering.

Feng Yixue's heart tightened: "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ling Xian said flatly. "It's just that I've seen him before, spending extravagantly at high-end clubs. He doesn't seem like someone short on money."

"How is that possible?" Feng Yixue shook her head repeatedly, her face full of disbelief. "If he really had money, why would he pretend and accept my sponsorship?"

Hearing this, a faint, wicked smile appeared at the corner of Ling Xian's mouth, half-smiling.

"Who knows?" he said softly. "Perhaps, it was to get close to you."

The speaker seemed unintentional, but the listener took it to heart.

Feng Yixue's heart sank heavily.

"No, I have to go back and investigate this clearly."

"I have matters to attend to, I'll take my leave first."

Ling Xian understood the subtle advantage of maintaining a sense of distance. Leaving these words, he departed directly.

This perfectly measured aloofness was precisely the beginning of breaking down Feng Yixue's doubts.

Watching Ling Xian's back disappear through the studio door, Feng Yixue took out her phone, her fingers quickly tapping the screen to send a message.

[Dad, help me check Ma Yifei's whereabouts today.]

A moment later, a reply popped up.

[Okay, my dear daughter, leave it to me.]

Putting away her phone, Feng Yixue's gaze fell on the canvas Ling Xian had left behind.

"Oh no, I forgot to ask for his contact information."

She sighed softly and carefully stored the canvas.

"Never mind, I'll just return it to him next time we meet."