Chapter 950

That expression, which had been looking out the window with its usual indifference, raised its perfectly shaped eyebrows slightly when its gaze touched him.

But her mood seemed to have become good because of this, and a faint, almost imperceptible arc of pleasure hung on the corners of her beautifully shaped mouth.

"Morning, Chikage."

Natsume Chikage nodded politely and replied.

"Morning, Orihime."

Saying this.

He bent down slightly and sat into the spacious and comfortable back seat, his body sinking into the soft leather seat.

After Konoe Hitomi waited for him to sit steadily, she gently closed the heavy car door.

She walked around to the other side, opened the driver's seat door, sat in, and fastened her seat belt.

The vehicle then started silently and steadily, slowly driving away from the roadside and merging into the still sparse traffic of the morning.

Orito Orihime turned her head, looking at the sky outside the window that was always filled with blood in her eyes, the houses, buildings, and streets composed of wriggling flesh and twisted fascia.

She quietly smelled this turbid air that always carried a strong scent of rust and corrupt sweetness.

After a moment, she slowly withdrew her gaze, her eyes falling on 'Konoe Hitomi', the creature in the driver's seat in front of her, who in her cognition was barely composed of countless twisted pieces of flesh into a human silhouette.

A trace of an extremely faint, uninterpretable emotion flashed in the depths of her eyes, and she remained silent for quite a while.

Subsequently, she turned her head to the side, looking at Natsume Chikage, who was the same as her and, in her view, the only "normal" existence in this twisted world, and spoke softly, her voice carrying a trace of imperceptible gentleness.

"The purpose of calling you over today, Hitomi should have already told you, right?"

Natsume Chikage nodded, his gaze meeting hers.

"Um, she told me. What do you want me to draw today?"

Orito Orihime's fair, slender, and distinct-jointed hand lifted gently, her fingertips pointing vaguely at her beautifully lined chin, making a contemplative appearance.

Her deep eyes gazed at Natsume Chikage, and she said slowly.

"Draw me."

Natsume Chikage blinked, a trace of obvious surprise appearing on his face.

"Draw... you?"

Orito Orihime tilted her head slightly; this slightly girlish action, when done by her, carried a kind of condescending playfulness.

The arc at the corners of her lips deepened a bit, and she smiled playfully, her tone carrying a trace of imperceptible probing.

"Why, looking at your reaction, could it be that in your eyes, I am a 'monster' that cannot be looked at, and cannot be drawn?"

Natsume Chikage shook his head immediately, his tone firm.

"How could that be."

Orito Orihime didn't seem surprised by this answer, but still followed the topic, revealed a trace of curious expression, and pursued the question.

"Speaking of which, I haven't heard you give any specific evaluation of my appearance."

"What do you think... I am like?"

Natsume Chikage's expression became somewhat subtle.

But he still followed her lead and looked at Orito Orihime in front of him more carefully.

And Orito Orihime's eerie and deep eyes, which seemed to be able to absorb all light, also looked at his eyes without blinking, waiting for his "scrutiny" and judgment.

In Natsume Chikage's eyes, Orito Orihime had a head of beautiful princess-cut black hair that was as smooth as a waterfall and meticulously groomed, the ends of her hair hanging neatly on both sides of her shoulders and neck.

Her skin was fair to the point of being nearly transparent, while her lip color was a natural crimson; every part of her facial features was exquisite to the point of being impeccable, and when combined, they formed a kind of transcendent, ethereal beauty that didn't seem to live in reality, as if she were an existence that had stepped out of an ancient painting or fantasy.

However, when his gaze met hers, looking at her bottomless eyes, he discovered that he couldn't see through anything.

There was no emotion in there, no fluctuation, only a silent abyss that seemed to be able to suck people's souls in.

He composed his mind and worded it cautiously.

"You are very beautiful, much more beautiful than many girls I have seen."

Regarding this evaluation, a trace of faint light seemed to flash in Orito Orihime's deep eyes, appearing very satisfied.

However, she suddenly changed the subject and asked a question that caught Natsume Chikage off guard, her tone still flat, but carrying some inexplicable probing.

"Then compared to Hitomi, who is more beautiful?"

Natsume Chikage was completely stunned, his expression instantly becoming very strange, and he subconsciously glanced at Konoe Hitomi in the driver's seat.

But he only saw Konoe Hitomi, who was quietly driving, seemingly also "looking" at him here through the rearview mirror.

Her inorganic-like eyes reflected in the mirror, although still in that expressionless and emotionless state, made Natsume Chikage always feel that it was better to be cautious when answering this question.

Why did he have this intuition that he needed to be cautious?

Probably because Konoe Hitomi not only had skills far beyond ordinary people, but more importantly, she likely carried a gun on her.

In some extreme or specific situations, this silent and loyal maid might be a more dangerous existence than her mysterious and unpredictable young lady.

Saying she wasn't as beautiful as Orihime... Natsume Chikage didn't know why, but instinctively felt it was better not to say that.

But Orito Orihime was the master to whom Konoe Hitomi was absolutely loyal...

And both of them were indeed very beautiful... he was indeed very hard to choose.

Natsume Chikage felt that faint sweat seemed to be about to emerge on his forehead; he could only cough lightly twice, trying to muddle through in the safest and most vague way.

"Saying who is more beautiful... I can't really say specifically who is better."

"After all, you are both beautiful in completely different situations and styles."

"Simply put, each has its own merits, each has its own unique charm and characteristics, and it's hard to put them together for a direct comparison."

After Orito Orihime finished listening, she surprisingly didn't have any thoughts about this, but instead looked at Natsume Chikage with interest.

Konoe Hitomi glanced at Natsume Chikage through the car's rearview mirror.

Her eyes in the mirror were still calm and waveless, not knowing what she was thinking, and then she withdrew her gaze as if nothing had happened, focusing on the road ahead.

Soon.

The luxury car glided silently and finally stopped in front of an extraordinary cast-iron gate in Matsuto-cho, Shibuya Ward.

The gate slid open to both sides automatically, the vehicle drove in, and along the meticulously trimmed asphalt driveway, it stopped in front of a huge luxury mansion main building with a modern yet elegant style.

And this mansion, in this top-tier rich area known as Matsuto, where every inch of land is worth an inch of gold, was undoubtedly one of the most expensive and conspicuous ones, whether viewed from scale, location, or design.

But for the Orito family, which controlled the huge Orito conglomerate, this was merely one of their many properties, a temporary residence that could be replaced at any time or even forgotten.

This was one of the mansions that Orito Orihime occasionally came to live in when family affairs were too busy for her to return to the main residence in Tokyo.

Natsume Chikage looked through the car window at the mansion in front of him, which appeared even more magnificent in the morning light, with every detail showcasing luxury and distance, and couldn't help but have a strange expression, his heart once again intuitively feeling the insurmountable class gap between him and Orito Orihime.

The vehicle had just stopped steadily.

The heavy solid wood door of the main building was opened from the inside.

Two men in black suits, with tall figures, solemn faces, and micro-communicators hanging on their ears, appeared silently on both sides of the door, bowing slightly to welcome Orito Orihime and Konoe Hitomi.

However, Orito Orihime and Konoe Hitomi turned a blind eye to this, as if these well-trained guards were just moving background boards.

The two got out of the car directly, Konoe Hitomi walked half a step faster to lead the way for Orito Orihime, and signaled Natsume Chikage to follow.

They passed through the hall and finally arrived at a spacious Japanese-style room.

The floor was covered with high-quality tatami mats, emitting a faint, dry grass fragrance.

On one side of the room was a huge, nearly floor-to-ceiling shoji door, which was currently wide open, directly connected to the meticulously maintained Japanese-style garden outside, allowing one to view the pine stones, deer scarers, and trickling streams in the garden without any obstruction from inside.

The atmosphere in the garden was quiet and elegant, with ancient pines, lush moss, and stone lanterns standing quietly; occasionally, early birds would sweep past, leaving behind crisp chirps.

Apart from the three of Natsume Chikage, there was no one else in the Japanese-style room, and it was so quiet that one could hear the regular "clack" sound of the bamboo tube hitting the stone in the garden.

And in the position closest to the edge of the garden with the best light, two simple and elegant solid wood chairs had already been prepared, as well as a professional easel with brand-new drawing paper.

Konoe Hitomi walked to the easel and signaled with her hand, her voice clearly sounding in the room.

"Natsume-kun, please sit on the cushion in front of the easel."

"The tools needed for painting have all been prepared and placed on the side. If there is anything else you need, just tell me."

Orito Orihime had already sat down gracefully on the chair opposite, her hands naturally crossed and placed on her lap, her back straight, revealing good upbringing and impeccable dignity.

She tilted her head slightly, looking at a red pine with a strange posture in the garden, the lines of her side profile like a sculpture in the morning light.

She said softly, her voice not high, but carrying an unquestionable meaning.

"You only have half an hour."

"Start."

Natsume Chikage saw this and didn't say much, just nodded slightly.

He walked to the easel and sat down, adjusted his breathing, and then pulled out a sharpened sketching pencil from the tools neatly placed on the side.

The moment his fingers gripped the pen barrel, a familiar feeling of being ready to create welled up in his heart.

He raised his head, his gaze once again cast toward Orito Orihime on the chair, starting to observe her contours, light and shadow, and every subtle expression feature carefully.

After all, he was living in her apartment with excellent location and conditions at an extremely low price, and the price he needed to pay was just occasional painting; this transaction, for now, seemed still acceptable.