CHAPTER 364: CHAPTER 364 YING’ER

After Uncle Ma finished speaking, he glanced around, and when he didn’t find Meng Sihan’s figure, he quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

The driver was shrewd as well, and certainly couldn’t miss the change in expression on the other person’s face.

"Young Master Meng had something to attend to and left first. He instructed me to deliver something to Mr. Meng," the driver said in fear, handing over the box in his hand.

Seeing the driver’s evasive eyes while he spoke, Uncle Ma probably guessed something. He walked a few steps forward and looked toward the street, only to see some hurried pedestrians. He sighed, took the box from the driver’s hand, and said, "The young master is considerate. I will definitely pass this on to Mr. Meng."

"Thank you, Uncle Ma," the driver said respectfully.

"You’re welcome."

The driver quickly retreated.

Uncle Ma stared at the spot where the driver vanished, lost in thought for a while, before turning around to enter the house, locking the door behind him.

The box appeared delicate, yet Uncle Ma felt it was heavy.

After all, it contained a son’s profound love for his father!

Walking through the hall, Uncle Ma reached a gazebo in the backyard. Although it was winter and the outdoor temperature was freezing, the person painting inside the gazebo seemed entirely unaware of the cold, holding a brush and immersed in his world, unable to extricate himself.

Standing under the corridor, Uncle Ma saw the man staring intently at the painting on the stone table. He stood dazed, not stepping forward to disturb him.

Perhaps, to Mr. Meng, the moment he saw the person in the painting, time seemed to have frozen. Everything around him had nothing to do with him anymore.

Uncle Ma stood for a while, feeling the cold wind drilling into his body through his sleeves, and soon his entire body was covered in goosebumps.

Considering the other person’s health, Uncle Ma slowly approached, standing outside the gazebo.

"Sir," Uncle Ma spoke quietly, knowing the other could hear him.

The person in the gazebo trembled, and the brush in his hand dropped a drop of black ink onto the painting, slowly spreading and perfectly obscuring the stunning beauty of the woman in the picture.

Meng Heming’s eyes were deep and cold as he put the brush down, carefully pinching the corner of the paper and lifting it to his face.

His gaze wandered, and it was unclear whether he was talking to himself or addressing Uncle Ma behind him.

"How many years have passed? Ying’er’s likeness I paint worse and worse. If she saw this painting, with her personality, she’d surely tear it to shreds," he murmured softly, sounding resigned yet desolate.

Uncle Ma looked up without echoing his words, watching his solitary back, a tinge of bitterness rising in his heart.

However, some things had to be mentioned to him.

Uncle Ma hoarsely said, "Sir, young master passed by earlier and left you a gift."

Meng Heming gently placed the painting back on the stone table, averting his gaze from the blot of ink, and turned around. The black traditional long gown he wore lent him an air of gentle elegance, tempering a bit of his strong demeanor.

"Leave it in my study."

"Aren’t you going to take a look now?" Uncle Ma stepped forward, raising the box in his hand, a trace of expectation on his face.

Rather than his constant dwelling in the past, Uncle Ma hoped he would cherish the present and live his life well.

Uncle Ma knew what he had endured over the years and naturally did not want him to spend the rest of his days the same way.

"No need." A tinge of gloom flashed across Heming’s rugged face.

Uncle Ma initially wanted to persuade him, but seeing the determined look on his face, he swallowed his words back.

Elsewhere.

By the roadside, a black Maybach parked, and in the back seat, amidst swirls of smoke, the cigarette in the man’s hand had already burned out.

The driver hurried back to the car, fastened his seatbelt, then turned his head, "Young Master Meng, the item has been handed to Uncle Ma."

"Mm."

Meng Sihan’s gaze drifted to the imposing archway not far away, the large swirling characters above. That vigorous handwriting was all too familiar to him since, as a child, he loved imitating a certain someone’s handwriting.

Others said his father was highly skilled in calligraphy and painting. When he first heard such praise, he appeared indifferent and unconcerned but secretly felt very proud.

So he secretly sought out a certain someone’s copybook to begin imitating...

Eventually, his writing ended up looking seventy to eighty percent similar.

Back then, he proudly showed his own writing to that person, only to receive a mere glance, without a word in response.

Afterward, he became dejected for a long time, even refusing to imitate that person’s handwriting.

However, once formed, a writing style is not so easily changed. To this day, the handwriting that flows from his pen still bears that person’s shadow.

"To ’Night Charm’," Meng Sihan said.

In his disappointment, a serene and stunning face suddenly appeared in his mind. Though he’d only met her a few times, he sensed a distinct emotion from her, like a warm sun in the winter, granting his long-frozen heart a moment of warmth.

The driver glancing at the bright light outside, reminded him, "Young Master Meng, it’s not yet the opening hours."

Meng Sihan turned his head to glance out the car window, finding the glaring light exceptionally harsh.

"To the company," Meng Sihan resolutely ordered.

"Alright." The driver nodded, quickly starting the car, driving amidst the flow of endless traffic.

Approaching 4:30 PM, during the high traffic time, a short distance would take quite a long time.

"Buzz buzz..."

In the quiet car, an abrupt sound echoed.

Meng Sihan picked up his phone and glanced casually at it. Seeing a string of numbers, he simply put it on silent.

Though he hadn’t saved the number, he knew who was calling.

Zeng Yun.

Recently, Meng Sihan had been dealing with her and, upon learning she possessed the Jade Pendant, he wanted to inquire about it. After a period of pretending and negotiating with her, he learned nothing. Zeng Yun was unaware of the pendant’s value, and after a straightforward cash transaction, he had bought the Jade Pendant. She showed no reluctance; instead, she laughed with delight upon seeing that bank card.

Having acquired the pendant, Sihan no longer wished for further entanglements with her and immediately placed her number on the blacklist, his expression finally easing a bit.

His cold gaze stared vacantly outside the car window.

That jade... it should have reached that person by now! Whether he would look at it, he didn’t know... Thinking of this, a trace of gloom crossed his eyes.

Clad in a gray suit, Meng Sihan’s eyes were as deep and mysterious as the blue sea, with an elusive sense of solitude exuding from him.

The driver, eyes focused ahead, faintly felt a chill sweeping down his back. He instantly gripped the steering wheel tightly, not daring to move.