Chapter 2185: You Are My Only Color 20

The basement.

Only a few wall lamps here emitted a faint light, and even ordinary people's vision was limited, barely able to make out anyone more than a meter away.

Gu Xi paced impatiently, while the two Directors stood in the corner, not daring to speak.

Wen Jin walked down the stairs slowly, and the sound of his leather shoes hitting the floor was especially clear in the empty basement.

"Gu Xi, why are you in such a hurry to see me? What's up?"

Wen Jin's voice was low, tinged with faint nonchalance.

Gu Xi immediately went up to him, forcing a smile: "Brother Jin, I noticed you haven't made any moves lately; I just wanted to check in."

He squinted, trying to get a look at Wen Jin, but seeing how smoothly he had just come down the stairs, he didn't look like someone who had been blind before.

Could they have been wrong?

Even after Wen Jin sat down with Jin Chen, Gu Xi noticed nothing amiss, only later realizing that Wen Jin's arrangement to meet here probably aroused new suspicions.

But he no longer had time to waste sparring with Wen Jin.

"Cut the nonsense." Wen Jin was a little impatient.

Gu Xi took a deep breath and got straight to the point.

"The group now doubts your authority; why not go along with the suspicion? Hand the group over to me completely, and I'll handle these troubles for you."

The two Directors:???

They sucked in a breath of cold air, wishing they were deaf.

Wasn't Gu Xi here to discuss this quarter's work situation!

How did it turn into a takeover of the Third Group!

Wait…

It seems we've become accomplices in this situation!

Wen Jin snorted, his tone laced with mockery: "Gu Xi, you sure know how to scheme."

In the dim light, his expression looked especially stern: "But do you think I'd let someone colluding with Wen Zhong 'handle' my troubles for me?"

Gu Xi's face changed abruptly.

"... You really do know."

No wonder he hasn't been allowed to interfere in anything lately.

"I can't be bothered to expose you; I was thinking of leaving a fool as a decoy for Wen Zhong, but you've actually delivered yourself to my door today."

His voice echoed in the darkness: "Since you're so eager to handle my troubles, why not start with you?"

Under the near‑shocked gazes of the two Directors, Gu Xi was dragged away by two subordinates.

Sir, it indeed involves an industry that cannot be spoken of to outsiders!

The door of the basement's inner chamber closed slowly, and Gu Xi's curses were cut off in the darkness.

Light suddenly blazed.

They gasped in fright.

Jin Chen switched on the flashlight, holding it under his chin; his superior bone structure stood out in light and shadow, inexplicably looking sinister.

The effect was excellent; the two were terrified, almost ready to clutch their heads and flee like rats.

Wen Jin couldn't see, so he tapped the armrest and said, "As for you two,"

Director Zhao's face turned deathly pale, cold sweat beading on his forehead: "Sir, you've misunderstood… we truly didn't know Gu Xi was here to cause you trouble."

"Yes, sir, we harbor no divided loyalties; we are wholly devoted to you."

Perhaps the hidden door wasn't shut tight; the wails kept coming, and combined with Jin Chen's flickering flashlight, Wen Jin's threats became even more terrifying.

Even after they finished professing their loyalty and left, the two Directors' legs were still weak.

"Sir, Gu Xi says he knows his mistake and will quickly cut ties with Wen Zhong's side."

A subordinate came forward to report.

Wen Jin: "I gave him a chance, but all he learned was betrayal."

"Break his legs and get him out."

"Yes."

Jin Chen suddenly leaned in and kissed his forehead, whispering, "Wen Jin."

"Do you only want the Wen family?"

Wen Jin noticed, turned toward Jin Chen, and rubbed his chin: "Xiao Chen, don't worry about these things."

"Just stay by my side."

Jin Chen shook his head, making him feel his refusal: "I can help you."

"No……"

"Don't say you don't need to; I have an exam tomorrow, come study with me."

Jin Chen forcefully cut off Wen Jin's refusal, hoisted him horizontally, and walked upstairs.

The subordinates in the hallway all lowered their heads, afraid to look; Wen Jin, who had initially resisted a little, had now grown accustomed, looping his arms around Jin Chen's neck for support.

He had already begun to learn how to adapt.

——

"You're strong enough; you don't need my pity or sympathy."

Wen Jin still remembered the tone in which Jin Chen had said that, full of trust and certainty.

He himself felt the same way.

Over the years, he had thought he'd long since adapted to a black‑and‑white world, gloomy, as if covered by an airtight filter.

He had thought he'd forgotten the pain of his past chronic illness.

The door on the west side of Zhuang Yuan, which had been kept shut year‑round, emitted a harsh creaking sound.

Wen Jin's blind cane tip lightly tapped the dust‑covered oak floor, following memory to the carved cabinet in the corner.

"It's here."

When his fingertip touched the hidden compartment mechanism, Wen Jin's motion stalled.

The pigment stone he had hidden as a boy lay silently on the velvet cushion; the icy sensation at his fingertips made him frown instinctively, and he felt the painting tools.

The painting tools that ought to have been thrown away.

Wen Jin's knuckles whitened, cold sweat seeped from his palm, and memories surged like a tide.

As a boy, he wanted to learn to paint, wanting to prove with sheer determination that even without seeing colors he could paint.

But that same occasion, he suffered his first brief blindness.

And with the appearance of this set of painting tools, even more painful memories surfaced.

The frail boy cried and shouted, but what he received was not light and warmth, but harsher beatings.

He became completely blind, from a cripple who could not see colors to a blind person who could not perceive even a glimmer of light.

At that time, the boy did not yet know that there would be a moment when he could see light again.

The boy's brother held him, saying, "Don't be afraid, brother will take you to play a game."

But the skin cut by the sharp fruit knife belonged to their mother.

The darkness lasted a full three months, and during that time he never again saw the mother who was called an artist.

That was his maternal brother Wen Zhong, expressing his sincere feelings to their father.

The reward went to Wen Zhong, the mistake was his.

Wen Jin's fingers trembled slightly, the painting tools grew warm in his palm, as if they could scorch his skin.

His breathing grew ragged, the darkness before his eyes began Distorted, suddenly bursting into a piercing blood‑red—the only color he could 'see'.

"No."

The blind cane struck the floor, Wen Jin curled up in the corner, his fingertips digging deep into his palm.

He even felt somewhat confused, as if shedding an invincible shell, merely returning to the darkness of his youth.

"No… don't…"

Wen Jin curled up in the corner, clasping his head tightly with both hands, as if trying to shrink himself into a safe shell.

His eyes red and unfocused, he suddenly retched violently; his nails scratched bloody marks on his arm, then he fumbled to draw his personal dagger, the icy blade pressing against his wrist.

"Wen Jin!"