18 Isi, the Mysterious Artist

When Ning Xue smiled, it was as if the whole world paused to stare at her. She was stunning, yet the way her lips curled up was unnatural. Like she wasn't doing it of her own will, but because it was a reflex to being complimented.

"Thank you, but I'm not interested."

As she turned to him, the old man took notice of her delicately gorgeous face. She was beautiful, too beautiful, that he forgot what he was going to say next for a second.

Jiang Sheng was knowledgeable in fine arts, his skills bringing home the gold medal of the national art competition when he was eighteen. Still, no one came to him how the old man in front of them did.

"The painting—aren't you going to take it back?"

Ning Xue's voice pulled him back from his thoughts. He retrieved the painting and rolled it up, with her staring into his eyes burning with expectations. It made her uneasy.

The old man was crushed. Not only his skills were below par in comparison to the young girl sitting here, but she had also rejected him blatantly. The boy and girl didn't seem like friends, he thought. Maybe there was something more than it met the eye. He was growing weary, his vision worse—how could he not have seen the tension between them? He should have shot his shot with the boy instead.

Who knew Ning Xue saw right through him.

"Excuse me. I'll be taking my leave now."

Jiang Sheng watched while she packed and left, her figure disappearing into the distance until she was all gone. After he retracted his gaze and shifted it to the painting he was holding, he tucked it into the pocket of his jacket.

Sigh. He hadn't got to know her name yet.

"Hey, kid, I'm Michael," introduced the old man with a smile. Michael knew the boy had something to do with her, which was why he was confident he would take him to her someday.

In the name of common courtesy and politeness, Jiang Sheng told Michael his name.

The look on Michael's face changed when he heard his name. "Jiang Corp.? Does it ring a bell to you?" Jiang Corp. was one of China's most successful grand enterprises.

"My uncle is the chairman of the board of directors. He dedicated his life to fine arts, and he holds high expectations of me. He wishes for me to become his successor," Jiang Sheng grinned faintly. Alas, he chose showbiz.

"Your uncle is the chairman?" Michael's mouth dropped open. "And the girl..."

Could her drawing be one of the productions of the very wealthy Jiang Corp.? Jiang Sheng's uncle, Jiang Yun, was a notorious artist in China, a prominent member of their community. "Spring orchid and the chrysanthemum of the fall" was one of his famous pieces. Goodness sake—was she his daughter, then?

"No. It was my first time meeting her."

Michael said, befogged, "I see..."

After saying goodbye to Michael, Jiang Sheng strolled along the lake to clear his thoughts as the cool breeze blew against him. Yet, he found himself mesmerized by the girl.

He opened the painting again, and after studying for what seemed like a long time, a crazy thought popped into his mind. He put it away and pulled out his phone, tapping on his browser.

Isi, the mysterious artist—their work was the best of the best, and it was every artists' dream to have viewed or held their painting. Every time their art piece surfaced, it would've caused a commotion no matter where. Every creator around the globe would go crazy for it, offering a large sum in exchange.

Though that was the case, they never revealed their identity or appearance. Often, their art would circulate privately before the world got to see it.

Going with his absurd idea, he typed in Isi on the search bar. In less than a second, tons of information loaded on his screen. He tapped on them one by one, filtering through factual details. He wasn't in a hurry—he would go through everything one by one, searching for any indications that would reveal their current location through all of their previous works.

Soon, he picked out about a hundred thousand of their pieces—portraits, buildings, and the skyline of cities was all their magnum opus. He flipped through the pictures without pausing, seeking the shadow behind the painting.

Finally, he found something odd.

Isi's usual workpieces were drawn on sketch paper, but her latest one was an oil painting—how interesting. Jiang Sheng felt his heartbeat race at the thought of the similarities between the girl and Isi, though Isi's latest leak was nothing like the one he was holding. Was the girl Isi?