Chapter 2188: You Are My Only Color 23

At a speed that caught everyone off guard, Jin Chen helped Wen Jin take care of the underground business; he didn't care about whatever crazy talk, because in those people's eyes he just couldn't be considered a person.

Jin Chen then lived a very leisurely life like a canary.

At Zhuang Yuan, he accompanied Wen Jin in handling work, and occasionally, with the idea of helping the original self complete an art exhibition, he went to the studio to paint a few pieces.

But Jin Chen refused to tell Wen Jin what he was painting.

Wen Jin only knew that Jin Chen had put a lot of effort into this painting; he couldn't see it, and while he felt regret, he also involuntarily felt a dark possessiveness.

Fortunately, the remaining days were not hard to endure with Jin Chen's company.

After the doctor came for the final dressing change, Wen Jin's eyelids twitched slightly, and a blur of light and shadow spread across his pupils.

"Sir."

The doctor handed over the gold-rimmed corrective glasses, but Wen Jin refused; the black-and-white world had long become familiar, and at that moment he only wanted to go see that person in the studio.

The studio door was ajar, and the scent of turpentine drifted through the hallway.

Wen Jin pushed open the door and saw Jin Chen, back to the door, mixing colors; the back of his linen shirt showed an excellent figure.

His veins bulged in the arm hovering above the palette, and the pigments flowed at his fingertips.

Hearing the footsteps, Jin Chen turned around; his first reaction was that Wen Jin hadn't used his cane, and seeing the spirit in his eyes, he then realized.

"Can you see now?"

Wen Jin nodded slightly, his gaze falling on Jin Chen; from the tips of his hair to his fingertips, every inch seemed to have been newly endowed with color.

Regaining sight with love, seeing the colors belonging to Jin Chen was even more stunning than the first day they met,

Wen Jin's gaze then fell on the drawing board blocked by Jin Chen's body.

He walked over and couldn't help asking, "What are you painting?"

Jin Chen pressed his hand and lifted the white cloth.

"I originally planned to finish it and then give it to you."

The canvas bore Wen Jin's portrait.

Unlike Wen Jin's aloofness toward outsiders, the portrait's colors were rich and warm, each stroke seeming to carry affection.

Jin Chen picked up the canvas and handed it to Wen Jin: "This is you as I see you."

With Jin Chen's hand, Wen Jin's fingertip brushed the edge of the still-wet crimson on the canvas, gazing at his own likeness in the painting.

Between his brows and eyes was a rare softness, the corners of his mouth slightly lifted, as if wrapped in a gentle halo of light.

He had never seen such a version of himself, nor had he imagined that in Jin Chen's eyes he could be so wonderful.

"No one has ever painted me like this."

Wen Jin whispered, his fingertips lightly stroking the colors on the canvas, as if touching himself as seen through Jin Chen's eyes.

Jin Chen leaned close, his breath lightly brushing his ear, and unabashedly kissed him a few times: "Then I'll paint more, and you remember a little more."

Wen Jin's heart fluttered slightly; he lifted his eyes to Jin Chen, those eyes brimming with tenderness and love.

"This painting..." Wen Jin's voice hoarse, "It belongs only to me, right?"

Jin Chen chuckled lightly, his finger gently brushing his cheek: "Of course."

Wen Jin reached out to pull Jin Chen closer, gazing at his brows and eyes; in his restored bright eyes lay an even richer obsession.

Even if there were any great artist's collection, it could not compare to this painting.

He rested his forehead on Jin Chen's shoulder.

"Then let's keep painting."

Paint me, paint us, paint our colors.

Jin Chen lightly kissed the top of his head.

"Good."

【Villain Heartthrob Value +5, total 71!】

——

After the brief respite ended, Wen Jin's oppression and offensive grew fiercer; Wen Zhong could hardly fight back, watching as years of his painstaking work were taken away one by one.

What made Wen Zhong feel even stranger was that an unknown helper had appeared beside Wen Jin, eerily so; no matter what car accident or kidnapping he devised, it was all useless.

Yet no matter how they investigated, the only one inseparable from Wen Jin was that art-studying student.

Even though there had been a prior failed kidnapping attempt, Wen Zhong couldn't imagine those acts being done by a mere college student, and he even began investigating whether Wen Jin had any international mercenaries nearby.

Other members of the Wen family knew what this turmoil would bring; those with insight hurried to curry favor with Wen Jin, leaving only Wen Zhong and Third Young Master Wen in a flustered frenzy.

As for Gu Xi.

As he himself once said, no one wants to quarrel with a "cripple."

When the boomerang struck him, Gu Xi once again tasted the flavor of having nothing; this time he would not wait for Wen Jin's second rescue.

All of the Wen family's industries changed hands, the head of the family switched—nothing more than a matter of a short time.

On the day the dust settled, Wen Zhong, perhaps realizing he could not turn the tide, rarely returned to the old residence.

That afternoon, the partially paralyzed Old Master Wen, who had lingered on his deathbed for years, demanded to see Wen Jin.

Wen Jin naturally wanted to share with this beloved father and his maternal brother the joy of finally possessing the Wen family.

The room in the Wen family's old residence.

The heavy redwood door was shut tight, the air filled with the scent of aged sandalwood and the lingering smell of bitter medicine accumulated over the years.

Wen Jin stood with his back to the floor-to-ceiling window, a cigarette unlit between his fingers, his expression cold.

Jin Chen stood at his side, his gaze lightly sweeping over the yellowed old photos on the wall.

"Why are you fighting with your brother over it?"

On the bed, the old master's cloudy eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, his breath shrouded in a mist of water, "You two brothers should have..."

"Family affection?" Wen Jin gave a near-sarcastic smile, "If this industry were in someone else's hands, I might not even have the inclination to fight for it."

Wen Zhong suddenly overturned the purple clay pot on the bedside table; shards splashed onto Wen Jin's suit pants.

In just a few months, having lost everything, Wen Zhong is now on the verge of going mad: 'If it weren't for you being a freak since childhood, we brothers wouldn't have ended up like this!'

Wen Jin narrowed his eyes, veiled in gray haze, and glanced at the photo frame on the bedside table.

In that yellowed family photo, the corner of Mother's pomegranate-red cheongsam was smeared with red ink beyond recognition: 'Isn't that so? You don't really know in your heart?'

Old Master and Wen Zhong simultaneously changed facial color.

Old Master suddenly ripped off his respirator, his withered fingers pointing at Wen Jin: 'You freak! Lunatic! Your mother was a lunatic, and you are too!'

"Besides Wen Zhong, you mother and son are the disgrace of the Wen family! If you weren't still my son, I would have kicked you out of the house long ago!"

"You're right, I am indeed a lunatic."

Wen Jin step by step approached the immobile Old Master Wen lying in bed, his voice carrying a chilling calm.

"But don't forget, this lunatic now controls the Wen family's lifeline. You and Wen Zhong are struggling wrecks."

Before he finished speaking, Wen Jin suddenly grabbed Wen Zhong's wrist with such force it almost crushed his bones.

At the moment the blue-and-white porcelain vase smashed toward the bedside, Wen Zhong's pupils contracted sharply; he wanted to struggle but couldn't pull back, only able to let the shards strike Old Master.

Wen Jin leaned close to his ear and whispered, his warm breath like a poisonous snake.

"Brother."

His voice was very soft, deliberately imitating the way Wen Zhong used to say 'little brother' when they were children.

"Do you remember? When we were little, you used to pull my hand like this..."

He grabbed Wen Zhong's hand and pressed it against Old Master's neck: "Now it's your turn."

Old Master's pupils suddenly dilated.

A shrill scream pierced the soundproof wall.

Jin Chen timely pushed open the door, covering Wen Jin's trembling knuckles with his palm: "It's time to go."