Chapter 64

Under Lu Shenxing’s supervision, Ji Wei took his medicine and was in bed before eight o’clock.

But he still felt awful.

He kept his eyes closed and his brows tightly furrowed. Suddenly, a cool scent of grass and wood washed over him. Subconsciously feeling cold, he burrowed his entire head under the covers.

He heard the man seem to let out a low sigh, pull the covers down, and ask gently, “How about some ginger soup?”

Immediately after, he smelled the strong scent of ginger soup, which replaced the scent of grass and wood and filled the air, incredibly pungent.

“No,” he said, his voice nasal.

“Just a little.” The man’s tone was almost coaxing.

It must taste terrible.

He kept his eyes closed and shook his head.

Lu Shenxing said no more.

A sudden silence fell.

Would his idol be angry?

Ji Wei’s consciousness cleared for a few seconds, and he felt he had been rather willful. But soon, his mind grew groggy again, leaving him with no energy to think further.

Suddenly, Lu Shenxing supported his neck, helping him sit up slightly, while his other hand held the ginger soup.

The man’s movements were very gentle, and the boy felt no resistance, still keeping his eyes closed.

Unexpectedly—

The man’s lips descended. Ji Wei habitually opened his mouth, but unlike usual, the first thing he felt was warm ginger soup.

Lu Shenxing’s kiss was gentle yet firm. One hand held the back of his head, giving him no chance to escape. He could only swallow mouthful after mouthful of the liquid amidst his whimpers.

It really did taste awful.

But the man’s kiss was very comforting, slowly pushing in and tangling, not missing a single corner. Ji Wei didn’t know whether he should push him away.

In the end, he didn’t. The consequence of not pushing him away was drinking half a small bowl of ginger soup.

“When your cold is better,” Lu Shenxing said, placing the bowl of ginger soup on the bedside table, “we’ll go to Shanghai.”

“No.”

He wanted to go to the art exhibition.

The man seemed not to have expected his reaction. After a moment, he asked, “You want to go to Shanghai?”

Ji Wei nodded emphatically.

“Give your brother a kiss—” The man paused, then said slowly, “and I’ll take you.” Lu Shenxing’s tone was casual; he didn’t think for a moment that his little one would have the courage to kiss him.

He laid Ji Wei flat on the bed. Just as he was about to leave, the boy opened his eyes, wrapped his arms around him, and gently planted a kiss on the man’s forehead.

The light was dim.

Ji Wei couldn’t see the man’s expression clearly, only that the sharp lines of his profile seemed to soften in an instant.

“I’ll take our Weiwei to Shanghai tomorrow.” The man’s voice had a slight upward lilt, different from his usual calm composure.

Upon getting Lu Shenxing’s consent, Ji Wei’s first reaction wasn’t happiness, but unease. He asked cautiously, “Am I being too willful?”

“No.” The man tucked him in, looked at him, and said softly, “In front of me, you can be even more willful.”

Whether it was because the blanket was too warm or for some other reason, Ji Wei was enveloped in a feeling of warmth. He let out a small “mm.”

***

Fortunately, by the next day, Ji Wei’s cold had improved significantly. They went to the airport at eight in the morning and arrived in Shanghai by nine-thirty.

This time, the art exhibition was held at the Yiqiu Art Museum, a private museum said to be owned by a very famous collector.

Wearing a mask, Ji Wei pushed Lu Shenxing to the front of the Yiqiu Art Museum. He estimated its area to be about ten thousand square meters and made a judgment in his mind: not only famous, but also very rich.

Perhaps because it was the weekend, there was a long queue in front of the museum. He heard the people in front of him talking.

A male student with thick, bottle-cap glasses was holding a magazine and talking to his companion, “Ji Wei is on the cover of Traditional Chinese Painting! Look at this painting. I told you, he’s the most talented painter of the younger generation.”

His companion yawned, clearly uninterested. “When is it our turn? Aren’t all traditional Chinese paintings like this? I think his skill is just okay. The others just haven’t been marketed.”

Yang Xixi was at a loss for words. “Forget it, I have nothing in common with a science and engineering guy like you. Just go online and you’ll see how amazing Ji Wei is…”

The more he talked, the more exaggerated he became. Ji Wei, standing behind them, couldn’t help but comment, “He’s not that amazing, is he?”

Because of his cold, his voice was nasal and his tone had changed.

Yang Xixi was already in a bad mood because his companion wasn’t playing along. Hearing Ji Wei’s words, he said unhappily, “What do you know.”

Just then, the museum started letting people in. The crowd slowly moved inside, and Ji Wei was separated from the student. Lu Shenxing, sitting in his wheelchair, suddenly spoke up, “He’s actually pretty amazing.” The man’s tone was faint.

But Ji Wei’s face still flushed, and he pushed Lu Shenxing into the art museum.

At the entrance of the collection hall stood a stone tablet with an introduction to a person.

—Lin Yiqiu.

He must be the owner of the museum, a famous collector, president of the China Collectors Association, and obsessed with abstract art.

Ji Wei only glanced at it before continuing forward.

Because the venue was large, it didn’t seem crowded, and one could appreciate the paintings quietly, with only occasional whispers.

Qi Baishi’s paintings were known to hold their value, earning them the nickname “safe deposit boxes” in the domestic and international art markets. His largest work, Pine and Cypress, Standing Tall; Four-Character Couplet in Seal Script, sold for four hundred million yuan, a testament to its immense value.

He pushed Lu Shenxing to stand before Ink Shrimp.

The information below the painting indicated it was a piece from Mr. Lin Yiqiu’s collection.

The painting depicted three shrimps of different forms. Qi Baishi habitually used aged ink, so the color was not deep black but had a purplish hue, and the brushwork was masterful.

If he were to copy it, he could at most capture thirty percent of its skill. With only a few strokes on the paper, it was the most difficult to imitate.

Suddenly, he heard Lu Shenxing say in a low voice, “This painting is a fake.”

“Why?” Ji Wei’s eyes showed astonishment. He couldn’t see anything wrong with the painting at all.

“The brushwork, ink color, and inscription are all fine.” Lu Shenxing lowered his voice. “But at different periods, the direction of the shrimp’s whiskers changed.”

“How do you know?” Ji Wei couldn’t help but ask again. This painting was worth at least ten million, and the collector was Lin Yiqiu. He found it hard to believe it was a fake.

“I visited Qi Baishi’s descendants and asked them to appraise a painting.” Lu Shenxing’s voice was calm. “That painting had a problem with the whiskers too.”

Only then did Ji Wei understand why his university professor had said that Lu Shenxing’s eye for antiques was honed by being steeped in them. It was an insight built on real money, an opportunity that ordinary people rarely had.

He studied the painting carefully, looking at it for a full half-hour before speaking. “The spirit of this painting is also off.” He chose his words carefully. “It’s a bit frenzied.”

Qi Baishi’s paintings should be free and expressive.

At that moment, the student with the glasses happened to come up behind him. Hearing his words, he laughed. “He can’t even appreciate a Qi Baishi painting.”

Yang Xixi turned to his companion and said, “I shouldn’t have bothered with people like you who have no appreciation for art.”

Ji Wei turned back, about to speak, when he saw a man hurriedly open a door and slip into the emergency exit. He couldn’t help but watch him for a few moments. By the time he looked away, Yang Xixi and his companion were gone.

“What’s wrong?” Lu Shenxing asked.

“Nothing,” Ji Wei shook his head.

Although Ink Shrimp was a fake, it would be too much of a buzzkill to say it out loud at the exhibition, especially since the collector was the owner of the gallery.

By the time he and Lu Shenxing finished viewing the exhibition, it was almost three in the afternoon. As he was pushing Lu Shenxing towards the exit of the art museum, a police officer appeared before them and showed them his badge.

“Would you two mind coming with us?”

***

It was Ji Wei’s first time at a police station. Sitting beside him was not Lu Shenxing, but the student with the glasses and his companion.

Yang Xixi was even more nervous than he was. “Officer, I was just looking at the paintings. I really didn’t do anything wrong.” He remembered the Traditional Chinese Painting magazine in his hand and hurriedly explained, “I bought this magazine outside. I didn’t take it from the art museum.”

The officer reassured them, “You can call me Officer Liu. Here’s the situation: a painting on the third floor was stolen during the exhibition today. Mr. Lin Yiqiu reported it to us. I’ve brought you here to learn more about the suspect.”

“The suspect?” Yang Xixi asked, confused. “I don’t know the suspect.”

His companion said helplessly, “Let the officer finish talking, will you?”

Officer Liu pulled up the surveillance footage on his computer. It was just a blurry back. “The suspect appeared at the second-floor emergency exit. The three of you should have seen him.”

Ji Wei recalled the scene. The Ink Shrimp painting was near the staircase. At that time, besides him, only Lu Shenxing and the two people next to him were there.

Lu Shenxing was facing away from the stairs, so he couldn’t have seen anything. No wonder the officer only brought the three of them in for questioning.

Yang Xixi looked at the surveillance footage and rubbed the back of his head. “I think I have some impression of him.”

Officer Liu breathed a sigh of relief. The exhibition at the Yiqiu Art Museum was open to the public for free, the paintings were valuable, and they had contacted the police in advance. They had been paying close attention.

They had focused their efforts on the exhibitions on the first and second floors, but they never expected the stolen painting to be on the third floor.

The suspect was clearly well-prepared, working with a team to avoid surveillance and leaving the museum amidst the crowd. The police were in a very passive situation.

“Can you describe his appearance?” Officer Liu took out a pen and paper. He was in charge of composite sketches at the station. A sketch made within three days of the incident was ideal, as the witness’s memory would be fresh and uncorrupted. “Could the other two please step outside for a moment?”

Ji Wei and the other person stood up and left the room.

“A square face, very small eyes.” Yang Xixi tried hard to remember. “Maybe not that small? Because his face was quite large.”

“Any other features?” Officer Liu asked.

This was the difficulty of criminal profiling. It was hard to describe someone’s appearance with words. They could only sketch a rough portrait based on the proportions of the facial features.

The stolen painting was worth tens of millions. If he couldn’t do it, he might have to ask a Senior Criminal Technology Engineer to draw it.

“I can’t remember clearly.” Yang Xixi tried his best to recall, but he had only caught a fleeting glimpse and had no deep impression.

Officer Liu sighed and let Yang Xixi out. “Thank you for your help. Please wait outside the room.”

***

Ji Wei was the third person.

When he entered the room, Officer Liu looked somewhat weary. He said to him, “Please sit.”

“Can you describe the suspect’s appearance?” When Officer Liu asked, he didn’t hold out much hope. From the surveillance footage, Ji Wei had seen the suspect for an even shorter time, perhaps only a few seconds. It would be good enough if he could remember whether the face was square or round.

But to his surprise—

The young man before him said only one sentence, “Can you give me a pen and paper?”