Li Chunmei's birthday arrived, and for her birthday party, despite recently getting along splendidly with the beautiful Zhou Qiping, Wang Xiaoqiang made sure to be there on time.

He went to a nearby Chow Tai Fook jewelry store and bought a pair of Jade Bracelets. It cost him over five thousand yuan, but now he wasn't like before; previously, he was without money, but now, his spending money amounted to several hundred thousand. To him, five thousand yuan was just a trifle!

What Wang Xiaoqiang hadn't expected, though, was that the number of people at the party was greater than he had imagined.

There were three women, around the same age as Li Chunmei but none as pretty as her. There was also a man, about twenty-six or twenty-seven, thin and pale, yet quite handsome, with long hair and a scruffy beard, revealing the temperament of an artist. His melancholic eyes, when facing girls, were deep and affectionate, carrying a poetic sense, as eloquent as speech; this look held lethal attraction for girls under thirty. This man's name was Mo Qi.

Li Chunmei was delighted to see Wang Xiaoqiang arrive punctually, promptly introducing him to the four people. To the three girls—one named Little Qiaoqiao, another Wang Kexin, both former classmates of Li Chunmei, and the third, Xiao Xuejing, a colleague from the hospital—the moment they laid eyes on Wang Xiaoqiang, it was as if a light shone before them. They were immediately drawn to him.

Wang Xiaoqiang's presence was a stark contrast to that of Mo Qi. Wang Xiaoqiang had a sunny and robust demeanor, with eyes clear and spirited. If Wang Xiaoqiang had also possessed a melancholic aura, he would have certainly been overshadowed by Mo Qi's profound despondency.

Mo Qi was also a former classmate of Li Chunmei. He had a crush on her during middle school and, although they had lost touch over the years, he had never stopped thinking about her. Having just returned from abroad last month, he reached out to Li Chunmei through Little Qiaoqiao. After several invitations were politely declined by Li Chunmei, this birthday party was no exception—Li Chunmei hadn't invited Mo Qi; he had found out about it through Little Qiaoqiao.

"Little Qiang, this is Mo Qi, my old classmate. Now he's working as... oh, right, Mo Qi, what are you doing these days?"

"Painter... I also write songs and compose music in my spare time!" Mo Qi's expression changed drastically, showing arrogance and depth, without any intention of initiating a handshake with Wang Xiaoqiang.

Wang Xiaoqiang noticed that this Mo Qi was like a chameleon. His eyes and expression changed rapidly, slipping by unnoticed. The affectionate look he gave when facing the girls instantly turned cold upon facing Wang Xiaoqiang, his eyes as cold and hostile as a snake's.

"Oh? A painter... pleased to meet you..." Wang Xiaoqiang did not intend to shake his hand either, his look void of any respect. Although Wang Xiaoqiang had never ventured into the world of painting, he had heard that the industry was heavily polarized, much like the structure of a pyramid, with those truly famous and profitable being just a few at the very tip. He had never even heard of the man before him who dared to call himself a painter. Wang Xiaoqiang thought to himself, even if you're not a painter, and even if you were, there's no need to put on such an air of superiority. I could paint a picture that would scare you to death! (To be continued. If you like this work, you're welcome to cast your votes and monthly tickets at Qidian (qidian.com). Your support is my greatest motivation. Mobile users, please visit m.qidian.com to continue reading.)

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