Chapter 113: I Paint
"I am not sure." Qiao Meixia gave a slight, indifferent shrug.
"She is our biological granddaughter!" Old Master Jiang’s voice dropped, laced with obvious displeasure. "How dare Lukang arrange a public debut of this magnitude without consulting us first?!"
"Calm yourself." Old Madam Jiang instructed softly, placing a hand on her husband’s arm.
"How can I remain calm?" Old Master Jiang grumbled.
"Didn’t you express a desire to host a grand celebration for Meixia earlier?" Old Madam Jiang reminded him calmly. "We will simply attend the banquet. It is entirely impossible for your third son to omit inviting his own parents."
Old Master Jiang considered her point for a moment before giving a gruff, reluctant nod.
Jiang Nianzu’s sharp eyes shifted between his parents and his quiet niece.
"So... Third Brother intends to announce Meixia as his legitimate biological daughter?" Jiang Nianzu asked again.
"Indeed." Old Madam Jiang replied.
"Then... what about Yanna?" Jiang Nianzu pressed the delicate question.
The moment the name left his mouth, a heavy silence settled over the room. Qi Meifeng quietly shot her husband a warning glance, while Jiang Boqin immediately ceased teasing his sister. Old Madam Jiang’s eyes turned distinctly icy, and Old Master Jiang let out a deep, heavy sigh.
"We shall witness how he handles it when the evening arrives." Old Master Jiang remarked quietly, his tone laced with disappointment.
Jiang Nianzu recalled vividly how excessively his third brother and sister-in-law doted on Jiang Yanna, coddling her every whim while neglecting everything else. He was deeply curious to see how far Lukang would go to protect Yanna’s delicate pride during the public revelation.
Qiao Meixia, however, displayed zero interest in the family drama. Her gaze casually drifted back toward the grand entrance, resting on her dark purple superbike.
"Can I move my motorcycle to another spot?" Qiao Meixia asked.
"You may leave it parked right at the steps, child. No one will touch it." Old Madam Jiang assured her.
"It blocks the main entryway." Qiao Meixia pointed out pragmatically.
"Hmm... It is indeed dangerous. Who knows, someone might accidentally scratch it while they move there." Old Madam Jiang agreed with a nod. "In that case, park it inside the central garage."
"Where is it located?" Qiao Meixia asked.
"I will guide you directly!" Jiang Nianzu immediately volunteered, his eyes practically glowing.
Old Madam Jiang looked at her fourth son with deep suspicion. "You simply want another excuse to scrutinise her machine up close."
"Of course!" Jiang Nianzu admitted without an ounce of shame. "I need to inspect the craftsmanship!"
"Okay." Qiao Meixia agreed calmly.
"Let’s go!" Jiang Nianzu cheered enthusiastically, striding toward the front doors with Qiao Meixia trailing at an easy pace.
He walked toward the superbike with Qiao Meixia following behind.
Watching his father practically sprint out the door after a motorcycle, Jiang Boqin shook his head in fond disbelief. "Mom, Dad’s obsession with superbikes is truly beyond saving."
"He has always been an overgrown child when it comes to vehicles." Qi Meifeng chuckled softly.
"Your father has always been like that." Qi Meifeng replied.
"Grandma, may I go watch too?" Jiang Fenfang asked, bouncing on her toes.
"Go ahead." Old Madam Jiang waved her off indulgently.
Jiang Fenfang immediately dashed outside, with Jiang Boqin trailing closely behind to ensure his sister did not knock anything over.
Within moments, Qiao Meixia found herself encircled by three overly enthusiastic family members inside the spacious, climate-controlled garage. Jiang Nianzu was already crouching down near the rear wheel, examining the carbon-fibre exhaust and bespoke chassis with meticulous fascination.
"This paintwork is astonishing..." Jiang Nianzu muttered in awe, running a careful finger near the frame without making direct contact. He looked up at Qiao Meixia, voicing the question burning in his chest. "Where exactly did you acquire this custom build?"
"Directly from the primary manufacturer." Qiao Meixia answered neutrally.
Jiang Nianzu’s eyes widened in surprise. "A factory-direct custom order?!"
"Hmm..." Qiao Meixia nodded.
"What internal modifications were implemented?" Jiang Nianzu pressed further.
Qiao Meixia casually rattled off a brief list of high-end mechanical specifications and custom tuning details.
As the technical jargon rolled off her tongue with effortless familiarity, Jiang Nianzu’s expression shifted from excitement to utter bewilderment. As a seasoned enthusiast, he could easily calculate the astronomical baseline cost of such high-grade modifications. After factoring in the custom chassis, specialised engine tuning, and international import logistics, the final price tag was staggering. He stared at the seventeen-year-old girl standing before him in understated athletic clothes.
Instantly, his mind flashed back to the blurted insult he had uttered in the living room earlier: ’Aren’t you supposed to be poor?’ A wave of intense embarrassment washed over him once more.
’Who on earth is the poor one here?!’ Jiang Nianzu screamed inwardly, feeling thoroughly humbled. Yet, his curiosity burned hotter than ever.
"Can I ask just one more small question?" Jiang Nianzu looked at her with shining eyes.
"Sure." Qiao Meixia answered after a second.
"Go ahead," Qiao Meixia permitted after a second’s pause.
"What work are you doing?" Jiang Nianzu
"Dad, you truly never learn when to stop, do you?" Jiang Boqin chuckled from the sidelines.
Ignoring his son entirely, Jiang Nianzu waited anxiously. Qiao Meixia stared at him for a quiet moment before offering a calm, two-word response.
"I paint." Qiao Meixia stated softly.
"Paint?" Jiang Nianzu blinked, taken aback.
"Hmm." Qiao Meixia nodded.
Jiang Nianzu was stunned.
"You mean... traditional fine art? Canvas painting?" Jiang Nianzu asked, trying to reconcile the image.
"Yes." Qiao Meixia confirmed again.
Jiang Nianzu looked at the multi-hundred-thousand-dollar superbike, then back at his niece’s serene face. His expression grew increasingly complex.
"How much revenue can a single painting possibly generate?" Jiang Nianzu seriously wanted to know that.
Qiao Meixia contemplated the figure briefly. "It varies."
"Varies based on what?" Jiang Nianzu asked again.
"On the identity and wealth of the collector purchasing it." Qiao Meixia answered matter-of-factly.
Jiang Nianzu’s interest piqued instantly. "Then what was the absolute highest valuation you’ve received for a single completed piece?"
Qiao Meixia fell quiet for a brief heartbeat before stating the figure as casually as if discussing the morning weather.
"Thirty million." Qiao Meixia said it casually.
The entire garage fell into a suffocating, dead silence.
Jiang Boqin’s mocking smile instantly vanished from his face. Jiang Fenfang’s jaw dropped so wide it looked ready to detach. Jiang Nianzu stood entirely paralysed, staring at Qiao Meixia as if she had just declared she was an alien from outer space.
"Thirty... million?!" Jiang Boqin choked out, his voice cracking slightly.
"Hmm.." Qiao Meixia nodded calmly.
Jiang Nianzu swallowed hard, his throat suddenly feeling bone-dry.
In an instant, the half-million-dollar superbike resting in the garage no longer seemed shockingly expensive at all. If a single canvas produced by her hands could command tens of millions on the elite market, purchasing a fleet of custom superbikes was no different from buying pocket candy!
Standing near the garage entrance, Old Madam Jiang, who had quietly followed the group outside, looked at her granddaughter in deep, stunned amazement. She had always operated under the assumption that Meixia was simply a quiet, neglected girl who had endured a difficult upbringing in a rural orphanage. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that her biological granddaughter harboured such extraordinary, world-class talent!
Beside her, Old Master Jiang’s sharp eyes narrowed in profound thought.
A cold, calculating realisation settled into his chest. The background intelligence the main Jiang Family had gathered regarding Qiao Meixia was not merely incomplete. It was completely, laughably wrong.
They had blindly assumed she was an uneducated, penniless country bumpkin. In reality, Jiang Lukang and his foolish wife had not the faintest idea what kind of hidden scheme they were attempting to manipulate.
...
Jiang Suhan returned home following a demanding business trip, carrying a carefully chosen gift, an elegant, understated necklace that he knew would suit Qiao Meixia perfectly. The moment he stepped into the foyer, he noticed guests gathered in the main living room. Seated alongside his mother and Jiang Yanna were Wei Rong, a close friend of his mother, and her daughter, Lin Yuning.
"Oh, Suhan, you are back! What perfect timing," Feng Lan chimed in immediately, gesturing toward the couch. "Come over and greet Aunt Wei Rong and Yuning. You remember them, don’t you? They dropped by for a visit."
Not wanting to appear uncultured or rude, Jiang Suhan approached the seating area with measured, polite steps.
"Good afternoon, Mrs Lin, Ms Lin." Jiang Suhan greeted them smoothly, maintaining an impeccable yet distant demeanour.
Feng Lan shot her son a subtle look of disapproval at his formal tone, but kept her composure to avoid creating an awkward scene in front of her guests.
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