Chapter 2177: You Are My Only Color 12

Wen Jin said he would give a surprise, but in the blink of an eye he arranged for Jin Chen to leave first, personally escorted by his trustworthy butler through a secret door to an underground residence in the Zhuang Yuan estate.

The decor was unexpectedly simple, with a few modernist paintings on the walls and vibrant greenery in the corner.

The butler opened the door to the monitoring room, and the screen suddenly showed the live feed from the banquet hall.

Jin Chen saw the garden he had just left; the view switched to the main hall, where the Champagne Tower was surrounded by people, and Third Young Master Wen was raising his glass and speaking loudly.

"Sir said you would like this," the butler said, handing him a cup of warm tea.

Jin Chen had just taken a sip when the screen suddenly transmitted the crisp sound of shattering glass.

The Champagne Tower collapsed with a boom, flying shards slicing Jin Tong's neck; he clutched the wound and stumbled back, knocking over a candlestand.

The candle fire spread along the carpet, startling several young ladies who screamed and retreated.

"Good heavens! Call an ambulance!"

"What's going on? How did the wine tower suddenly collapse?"

The screen showed utter chaos; Jin Chen saw Gu Xi cut by glass again, and Third Young Master Wen burned and then knocked over by guests rushing away.

Aunt Wen hurried over, her face grim as she directed the servants to clean up the mess.

After a while, Wen Jin stood in the corner of the banquet hall, raising his glass toward the camera.

"I did that to vent my anger." Wen Jin lightly parted his lips.

"An interesting surprise," Jin Chen said, happily drinking the whole cup of tea.

No wonder she's my wife.

"The young master says you're to stay here for two days," the butler said, picking up the empty teacup, "the room is ready."

Jin Chen stared, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Teach…… Wen Jin, won't you come over?"

Has it already progressed to the little black room segment this quickly?

At least let the Heartbeat Value be a bit higher.

The butler said nothing more, leading Jin Chen to the room at the end of the hallway.

The room wasn't large, but it was cozy, with an open sketchbook on the bedside table.

During these two days, Jin Chen adapted very well; when he couldn't see Wen Jin, he would sleep and paint, showing no intention to leave at all.

Two days later, Jin Chen stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, leisurely watching the plane trees outside the Zhuang Yuan estate sway in the morning light.

The butler knocked and entered, delivering a set of neatly ironed white shirts: "Sir said, go wait in the studio."

Seeing those clothes, Jin Chen knew what was expected.

He chuckled, turned, and followed the butler to the other side of the underground residence.

The underground studio's floor-to-ceiling windows were covered with heavy linen curtains, letting in only a few strands of faint morning light.

Jin Chen looked up to see Wen Jin barefoot on the thick carpet, his trousers dragging over his feet, shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows, revealing his pale, thin forearms.

He leaned against the easel, holding a brush loaded with ultramarine, his gaze through rimless lenses falling on Jin Chen as he entered.

Wen Jin tossed his glasses onto the sofa, walked over, pinched his chin to examine him, and said, "You're still beautiful."

Jin Chen squinted, weary, and asked, "Who else are you looking at?"

"No," Wen Jin chuckled, pressing his thumb to Jin Chen's lower lip to deepen the red, "you've stayed here two days—aren't you afraid?"

"Not afraid."

"How was the surprise?" Wen Jin asked again, missing none of Jin Chen's microexpressions.

Jin Chen sincerely praised, "The professor's brushwork is indeed brilliant."

"This is just the beginning," Wen Jin said, pleased with the answer, and led him to the sofa.

Jin Chen lazily flopped onto the sofa, his face sinking into the cushion, and murmured, "Tired."

Who makes their canary go to work first thing in the morning?

He took off his shirt, pulled a blanket over his waist, exposing his bare back, and said, "If you want to paint, paint; don't disturb my sleep."

Wen Jin dipped white paint on the palette; when the brush touched Jin Chen's shoulder blade, he flinched slightly and said, "Cold."

"Endure it," Wen Jin said, his fingertips gliding over the spine, circling at the nape.

The brush wandered over the skin, the paint gradually warming with body heat.

Wen Jin's gaze fell on the faint pink rising on Jin Chen's nape, and his breathing unconsciously softened.

Morning light streamed through the curtain gaps onto the youth's evenly toned back, paint and flesh blending in the warm glow like an unfinished oil painting.

Jin Chen's breathing gradually steadied, but Wen Jin suddenly set down his brush, a thought occurring to him.

He leaned in close, his fingertips brushing the slightly parted lips, then suddenly covered Jin Chen's nose with his hand, silently counting the seconds.

In his sleep, Jin Chen furrowed his brows, his cheeks gradually flushing, the skin at his collarbone also taking on a damp hue.

He unconsciously struggled, and only when his breathing was completely blocked did he jolt awake, flinging himself to pin Wen Jin to the sofa, the sudden momentum oppressive.

"What are you doing?"

Wen Jin looked up at him, laughing so hard his chest vibrated from the paint stains on the sofa, "Still, the red on Xiao Chen's body wins out."

Jin Chen bent his knee, pinning the legs, and grabbed his waist, thinking, "I thought you were going to kill me."

Wen Jin gripped the back of his neck, pressing down, his breath brushing the ear as he exhaled softly, "Xiao Chen, I want to try a different color."

Under Jin Chen's gaze, Wen Jin suddenly bit his fingertip, a bead of blood landing on his chest, drawing a vivid red line.

Jin Chen: "……"

The last drop of blood from his fingertip fell between Jin Chen's lips; Wen Jin wouldn't let him lick it off, instead smearing it slowly with his finger pad, as if coloring the finest jade.

Having found a treasure, Wen Jin became even more frenzied about art than in his youth, wishing to leave countless colors of the world on Jin Chen's body.

Sometimes the urge could not be restrained, and he wanted to use the sharpest dagger to cut his skin, to watch the most striking red flow across the flesh, mingling with the paint.

But his living Xiao Chen was only one, so Wen Jin could only proceed with caution, suppressing all such thoughts.

"It's truly beautiful," Wen Jin said, his eyes even somewhat obsessed.

He had never been this satisfied with his own work before.

With his fingertip still wet with blood, he dabbed his lips again, signalling Jin Chen to kiss him.

Jin Chen still felt sticky as he spoke, "No, it will have a bloody smell; I don't like it."

He lowered his head, imprinting the blood from his lips onto Wen Jin's collarbone, kissing it several times before licking the corner of his mouth and kissing him.

【Villain Heartthrob Value +10, total 27!】

——

"Going abroad, I might not be able to."

After calming the frenzied Wen Jin, Jin Chen scooped him up and held him in his arms, letting Wen Jin continue testing colors on his hand.

Hearing Wen Jin's suggestion to go abroad, Jin Chen considered his schedule and said, "I'll be participating in the Oil Painting Competition in two days, for seven days."

It just so happens that the days coincide with Wen Jin's business trip abroad.

Wen Jin's paint-applying motion halted; he let out a soft sigh, wiped his hand clean, then tousled Jin Chen's hair.

"Xiao Chen, seven days?"

Since I've known him, we've never been apart this long.

Jin Chen hummed, "You can see my colors over video; haven't you tried that before?"

At the moment the banquet ended, that night when he was locked up.

That time, it was indeed Wen Jin's thought when he learned he had to go on a business trip.

"That's just precaution; I intend to take you with me."

"The Oil Painting Competition is important; I'll wait for you to come back, okay?"

Jin Chen kissed Wen Jin's face.

But more often, Wen Jin still indulges Jin Chen, let alone when Jin Chen clearly shows that the Oil Painting Competition is important.

"Your wings have hardened." Wen Jin said

"It's your teaching." Jin Chen blamed him without distinguishing right from wrong.

Wen Jin was pressed against the sofa back by him, his shirt buttons undone, "Yes, I taught you too well."

He pinched Jin Chen's cheek, "Now you don't even listen to the professor's words."

Jin Chen bit his throat, voice innocent, "Do you want to punish me?"

Wen Jin indulged him, letting him cause a ruckus, the split at the corner of his lips glowing with a vivid red.

"Forget it."

He brushed aside Jin Chen's sweat-dampened forehead hair, placed a kiss on the hair whorl, and said, "Wait for me to come back."