[Chapter Ten] The Triangle Puzzle That Happened in Paris
32
The afternoon sunlight poured down like a waterfall, passing through the branches and leaves of a row of mahogany trees, casting soft light into the hall. The light spots danced on the floor, constantly changing with the gentle breeze. On one side of the hall, Huang Lihua and Lin Xiaoyang sat quietly on the sofa. The air was filled with a faint scent of wood and tea, peaceful and leisurely.
Lin Xiaoyang gently unfolded a letter, slightly leaning, his gaze resting on the joint invitation letter from the director of the Paris Art Museum. His fingers inadvertently brushed along the edge of the paper, as if searching for some kind of answer. He raised his head and looked at Huang Lihua, who was sitting on the sofa, a trace of doubt flashing in his eyes: “This invitation letter is addressed to me, why not let you go instead?”
Huang Lihua smiled faintly, casually picked up the teacup on the table, and took a gentle sip. The sunlight through the window fell on his face, outlining his features more deeply. His expression remained calm and composed: “You go, and take some photos for me.” His tone was flat, yet there was an indescribable depth in his eyes.
Lin Xiaoyang furrowed his brow and half-jokingly raised his eyebrows: “Senior, for such an important occasion, shouldn’t you be the main character? The museum opening, with so many artists and celebrities, you should attend in person.”
Huang Lihua gently put down the teacup, smiled faintly, a trace of confident oversight of worldly affairs flashing in his eyes: “If I go in person, I fear it will cause quite a stir. Those reporters, seeing my age, might exaggerate me along with the artworks into some kind of strange sensational news.” He waved his hand, his brows relaxed, his tone carrying a slight humor.
Lin Xiaoyang helplessly shrugged, smiling slightly, though his expression showed a little awkwardness: “But you only need to show your face. You can completely refuse all interviews; this shouldn’t be a big problem, right?”
Huang Lihua shook his head, smiling lightly, yet his eyes carried an undeniable firmness: “Things are not as simple as you think, Xiaoyang. Don’t make it difficult for me. This time, let you take care of it.” The determination in his tone left Lin Xiaoyang with nothing to say.
Lin Xiaoyang shrugged, a helpless wry smile appearing at the corner of his mouth: “Alright, since senior is so determined, then I’ll go.” He put down the invitation letter, straightened his posture, setting aside the questions in his heart.
Huang Lihua slightly nodded, a trace of warmth flashing in his eyes: “When you go to Paris, remember to take some time to visit Minhua. Also, when you meet Qiu Shenzhi, be careful in dealing with him.” His tone became low, as if speaking earnestly about a very important matter: “This person is meticulous and unfathomable.”
Lin Xiaoyang was slightly stunned, took a deep breath, and gently nodded, his expression becoming steadier: “I will remember these two matters well, senior, rest assured.” His tone was low and firm, as if he sensed some faint threat in Huang Lihua’s reminder.
Huang Lihua gently pushed aside the teapot on the table, smiling faintly, yet his eyes contained a trace of unspoken concern: “I hope you remain safe.” His tone was gentle, carrying a subtle depth.
The two of them exchanged gazes, and the air seemed to freeze for a moment. Huang Lihua stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the blue sky. Lin Xiaoyang remained in place, a trace of determination flashing in his eyes. He knew that this journey was not merely an artistic exchange, but also a trial of the soul.
He turned to Huang Lihua, nodding slightly, his voice low but full of resolve: “I will handle it well, senior.” He then turned, taking the invitation letter, and walked steadily toward the hall entrance.
Huang Lihua’s gaze remained outside the window. Until Xiaoyang’s figure completely disappeared at the doorway, the corners of his mouth slightly lifted, like a faint smile, yet it seemed to hide words unsaid.
33
As soon as Lin Xiaoyang stepped into Paris, the cold wind of the airport had not yet faded, when his phone rang. It was Annie, her tone light and friendly, inviting him to dinner.
After a brief freshening up, he arrived at the restaurant on time. The candlelight flickered inside, the whispers and clinking of glasses lightly echoing in the air. Annie was already seated by the window, wearing a simple yet very tasteful black dress, her hair neatly tied up, a smile on her face, as if she had been waiting impatiently.
She caught sight of Xiaoyang entering with his luggage, her eyes brightened, she slightly stood up and walked to meet him. Her gentle greeting carried a hint of playful care: “You just arrived in Paris, Brother Lin?” Her tone was soft, with a touch of coquettishness.
Xiaoyang placed his luggage beside the seat, sat down lightly, nodded, his face showing fatigue but not lacking a smile: “Yes! Haven’t looked for the hotel yet.” His tone carried a sense of relaxation; compared to usual work pressure, such a meeting made him feel a rare ease.
Annie gently pushed the menu on the seat toward Xiaoyang, her gaze soft and fixed on him: “Since you’re on a business trip in Paris, why not temporarily stay with me? I rented a small apartment, the guest room is empty.” She spoke naturally, yet with a trace of expectation.
Surprise appeared on Xiaoyang’s face. He slightly furrowed his brow, lowered his head shyly, slightly shaking it: “How can I feel at ease? You are a young woman…” His tone was hesitant, not knowing how to respond to this sudden kindness.
Seeing this, Annie’s lips curved into a relaxed smile, she lightly waved her hand, her tone carrying a playful note: “I just happen to be attending a fashion design exhibition here recently. Having a man around makes me feel a little more at ease.” When she said this, her eyes carried an unspoken trust, making Xiaoyang’s mood relax slightly.
Xiaoyang raised his eyebrows and smiled, his tone easing: “Alright! I’ll just be your flower guardian.” He joked, his tone carrying a hint of playful teasing.
Annie gently nodded, smiling at him, her tone seemingly hiding a trace of expectation: “Brother Lin, now it’s your turn to order.” Her voice was soft, as gentle as the night breeze in Paris.
Xiaoyang rubbed his stomach, laughing exaggeratedly: “Ha! I’m really hungry.” He glanced at the menu, but his thoughts had already drifted toward the authentic French dishes.
He ordered a French set meal with juice. Annie then smiled faintly, seemingly seeing him struggle, unable to resist speaking: “Brother Lin, you are the guest from afar; why be so polite with me?” Her tone was full of laughter, mixed with a little helplessness and tolerance.
Xiaoyang smiled, a hint of honest humor at the corner of his mouth: “I’m not picky, and my appetite isn’t large. That’s fine.” His tone was easygoing and sincere.
Annie, seeing this, a playful glint flashed in her eyes and eyebrows. She gently picked up the menu, drew a few lines on it, and then lightly placed the menu at the corner of the table, pressing the service bell: “Then I’ll add two or three of this restaurant’s signature dishes, we can share them together…” Her tone was casual yet carried a hint of playfulness, as if she didn’t quite accept Xiaoyang’s “modesty.”
Not long after, the waiter came over, collected the menu, leaving a bill behind. Xiaoyang shook his head with a smile: “Alright, then I’ll make the effort to have extra food.” His tone was relaxed, his face smiling, seemingly not bothered by this change.
At this moment, Annie suddenly asked again: “Brother Lin, this time you come to Paris, how long will you stay?” Her tone carried a hint of curiosity, and a trace of concern flickered in her eyes.
Xiaoyang slightly nodded, answering in a low voice: “A few days, attending an opening ceremony, meeting a friend.” He then lightly twirled the wine glass with his fingers, his gaze drifting slightly, as if some thoughts were hidden in that moment.
Annie gently furrowed her brows, continuing to ask: “Then, after that?” Her tone carried a subtle expectation, as if she did not want him to leave so soon.
A flash appeared in Xiaoyang’s eyes, his tone steady with a faint trace of contemplation: “Back to Switzerland. I run a hotel by Lake Lucerne.” His words were few, but his tone revealed a deep sense of rootedness, as if the lake itself was his sanctuary.
Annie widened her eyes, looking at him with slight surprise, her tone carrying a hint of playfulness: “So you are the owner?”
Xiaoyang smiled faintly, his tone revealing confidence and composure: “Yes! You are welcome to visit me at Lake Lucerne.” He smiled gently, yet his eyes carried a sincere invitation.
34
Lin Xiaoyang followed Annie into the apartment building. It was a typical old-style Parisian apartment, simple and plain in appearance, yet the interior contained a rich artistic atmosphere. On the walls of the corridor hung several vividly colored paintings; the floor was made of old wooden planks, emitting faint creaking sounds when stepped on.
Annie gently pushed open a wooden door, smiling as she said: “When you’re away from home, keep things simple.” Her tone was relaxed, carrying a casual sense of ease, as if this place were her home.
Lin Xiaoyang lowered his head to look at his suitcase, slightly smiling, nodding, then placed his luggage on the chair beside the desk, surveying the surroundings. The room was not large, but arranged simply and elegantly; the gray walls and wooden floor highlighted a mature charm. Annie pointed to a window and said: “This guest room faces the Seine River, the lighting is quite good.” She then smiled slightly, continuing her introduction: “The bathroom is shared; my room is next door.”
Lin Xiaoyang walked to the window, gently pushed it open, and inhaled the fresh night breeze. The Seine River flowed quietly, the water surface shimmering faintly, while the lights from the street across reflected on the water, flickering golden ripples. On the street, small groups of pedestrians strolled along the riverside sidewalk; occasionally a taxi passed by, leaving a trail of tail lights.
Seeing Lin Xiaoyang quietly appreciating this beautiful scene, Annie spoke softly: “You go freshen up and rest first; I still have a little work to finish.” After saying this, she smiled slightly, turned to leave, her steps light, her face carrying that natural and comfortable expression that only exists between familiar friends.
Lin Xiaoyang nodded, smiling in response, “Alright.” He turned around, walked toward the desk, and took out his laptop from the suitcase, placing it on the desk. In that instant, his movements appeared exceptionally leisurely, as if there was no hurry at all. The Parisian night had relaxed both his body and mind considerably.
Then, he took off his shirt and suit trousers, casually placing his leather shoes in the corner. As he loosened his belt, his gaze was slightly distant, as if still savoring the beauty of the Seine River from just now. He then took out his underwear and a razor from the suitcase, walking while glancing toward the bathroom.
The bathroom door closed gently. Inside, the light was soft and yellow, casting reflections on the smooth marble and revealing his tired yet calm figure. The faucet emitted a slight hum, and as cool water flowed through his fingers, he took a deep breath, easing the fatigue of the day.
35
Morning sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, gradually dispelling the shadows in the room. Lin Xiaoyang groggily opened his eyes, stretched lightly, and then turned to get out of bed. He felt the fresh air in the room and gently stepped toward the bathroom, the moist tiles beneath his feet making faint sounds. The faucet turned on, and the cool water ran through his fingertips. He inhaled deeply, gently patting his cheeks, becoming considerably more awake.
After washing, he returned to the living room and saw that a simple breakfast had already been set on the table. On the table was a note, the handwriting clear and neat, as if it were smiling at him. Lin Xiaoyang glanced down at it, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
“Brother Lin, I left early for some matters. Breakfast is ready. Call my cell phone in the evening, and we can have dinner together.”
He sighed softly, feeling a little emotional, then sat down to eat breakfast. Sunlight poured in through the window, illuminating the table, and the warm atmosphere brought a sense of relaxation. After breakfast, he quickly arranged his clothes, selecting a clean suit from the wardrobe. The suit was soft yet structured, exuding understated elegance. He skillfully put on the suit and tied his tie, each movement radiating the confidence of a mature man.
Picking up the phone on the table, he checked the time and then quickly dialed Huang Minhwa’s number. As the phone rang, Lin Xiaoyang leaned against the door frame, looking up at the view outside, his mood slightly tense but his tone remained gentle.
“Minhwa? This is Xiaoyang…” He paused briefly, adjusting his tone, “Today is Senior Huang’s art museum opening. We’ll meet at the old railway warehouse. Is that convenient?”
He furrowed his brows slightly, mentally gauging the other person’s reaction. From the other end came Minhwa’s familiar voice, and Lin Xiaoyang nodded slightly, as if acknowledging her reply.
“Alright, then it’s settled.”
After hanging up, he took a deep breath, put the phone back in his pocket, and stepped out of the apartment. The Parisian streets in the early morning were still lively, pedestrians walking in small groups, and the traffic flowing. Amid the bustling scene, Lin Xiaoyang felt a slight unease. He looked down at his phone again, feeling anticipation for the day ahead, but also an indistinct sense of apprehension.
36
Lin Xiaoyang entered the opening venue of the art museum. It was a carefully renovated old railway warehouse, with its exterior still retaining nineteenth-century industrial style, giving a sense of antiquity and simplicity. Inside, the space was open, sunlight pouring through the large windows, golden light reflecting off the wooden floors, and the air carried the scent of fresh renovation. Surrounding the venue were exquisite artworks, displaying paintings by Master Huang.
Not long after, three curators—Louis, Champier, and Dastini—welcomed Xiaoyang. They smiled as they approached him, performed a cheek-to-cheek greeting, and exchanged salutations with him in fluent French.
Louis extended his hand, grasped Xiaoyang’s hand, speaking kindly: “Mr. Lin, this location was chosen by the three of us. Although it is an old warehouse, the location is excellent, with established transportation lines already in place.”
Xiaoyang nodded, his gaze sweeping over the space. He was deeply impressed by the warehouse, which preserved its old-fashioned style.
Champier smiled and added, “And we have completely redone the entire air conditioning installation, to precisely control the temperature and humidity, so that Master Huang’s works are properly preserved.”
Xiaoyang smiled with satisfaction, his tone carrying a trace of gratitude: “The three of you have been so meticulous; on behalf of Master Huang, I salute you.” He then turned and introduced Huang Minhwa, who was standing beside him, to the three curators: “This is Miss Huang, she is Master Huang’s granddaughter.”
The three curators shook hands with Huang Minhwa in turn, performing a brief, formal gesture. Minhwa smiled gracefully and returned the courtesy, her eyes revealing a hint of pride and self-respect.
The opening ceremony officially began. Director Louis went on stage to deliver a speech. After a concise and enthusiastic address, he invited Lin Xiaoyang and Huang Minhwa to join him on stage and introduced them to the attending guests. After Xiaoyang gave a brief speech, the two of them, together with the three curators, cut the ceremonial ribbon. As the ribbon-cutting concluded, thunderous applause filled the room.
After the ceremony, Xiaoyang gently took Huang Minhwa’s hand and led her to tour the exhibition rooms. They walked into the exhibition area, surrounded by an array of paintings, all displaying Master Huang’s exquisite works.
Huang Minhwa carefully observed each painting, unable to help but exclaim: “I never would have imagined that my grandfather’s works would be not only so diverse, but that every single piece was created with such meticulous care.”
Lin Xiaoyang nodded and replied with a smile: “The works of the former master, when appreciated by three great curators like them, obviously must possess something exceptional.”
Huang Minhwa said with admiration: “Even if I lived to be a hundred years old, I doubt I could produce so many refined works.”
Lin Xiaoyang looked at her with a smile, slightly teasing: “If we really lived to a hundred years, we could paint every day, and the two of us together might rival your grandfather, right?”
Huang Minhwa gently covered her mouth as she laughed, her eyes showing a hint of mischief: “You think too much. If we lived that long, we probably wouldn’t even be able to walk, right?”
The two of them laughed lightly, wandering through the gallery, as if time had frozen at that moment, and the world consisted only of these artworks and profound emotions.
