Extreme Pampering After Marriage

  Chapter 834 Love Is Deep (End)

(1)

Standing in front of the mirror in my wedding dress, I called Fu Jianchen again, "Tomorrow I will get married, if you come, I will go with you. If you don't come, I will never draw again... "

   If you don't come, I really don't love you.

  Fu Jianshen.

   On the day of my wedding, I waited for a whole day at the door of the church in my wedding dress, and what I finally waited for was a big red envelope from him.

  There is only one sentence written on the back of the red envelope——

  「Wish you come late, happy wedding!」

(2)

  The year I met Fu Jianchen, I was sixteen years old. Because my family was poor, I stopped studying after finishing junior high school, but worked in a convenience store.

  Because the requirements here are not so strict, no ID card is required, as long as there is a 50-yuan health certificate and literacy.

  The convenience store is not far from Fu Jianshen's gallery. He often goes to the convenience store to buy cigarettes, and sometimes calls to ask someone to deliver them.

  Every time the boss would send me to run errands, I entered the world that didn’t belong to me again and again, and I didn’t dare to take a second look. But that day I stood outside the gallery, looking at the paintings hanging on the wall, and burst into tears.

   Fu Jianshen, who was originally sitting on a rattan chair smoking a cigarette, came out and asked, "Hey, do you want to draw?"

  On a normal day, I would have wiped away my tears and turned away, but that day I nodded as if I had taken the wrong medicine, and answered loudly, "Yes."

  Fu Jianchen looked at me and smiled, beckoning, "Come in, I'll teach you."

  From then on, apart from working in a convenience store, I spent the rest of my time running to the gallery. When the boss asked me to deliver cigarettes, I ran very fast like a little **** who had received an imperial edict.

   It's just that Fu Jianshen is really not a good teacher. He has a bad temper and loves to flirt, hitting the table and throwing the stool without saying a word.

  Everyone in the gallery is afraid of him, and I am also afraid of him, but I am more afraid that he will think I am stupid and refuse to teach me than I am afraid of him losing his temper.

   (3)

  I probably really have some talent for art. I learned painting from Fu Jianshen for half a year. When guests come to the gallery and see me painting, they will praise me for my good painting and ask me which school I studied in.

  I smiled, lowered my head, embarrassed to tell him that I didn't study systematically, but just studied painting with Fu Jianshen for half a year.

  The guests left, and Fu Jianchen knocked on my head with a candied haws he didn't know where he came from, "Don't be proud, I'm being polite, your drawing is very ordinary."

  I touched my head and said sadly that I knew.

  He didn't say anything, just threw the candied haws to me, and then he collapsed on the wicker chair and smoked a cigarette.

  While eating the seldom eaten candied haws, I asked curiously, "Why do you always wear a string of Buddhist beads? Who gave it to you?"

  Fu Jian gave me a deep look, and replied in a calm tone: "None of your business, little girl, don't inquire about men."

  I don't want to know about the man, I just... want to know more about him.

For example, I heard people in the store say that he is actually the half-brother of the owner of the Mo Group. For example, I heard that he has been acting as an agent for his sister-in-law, and most of the paintings hanging in the gallery are her paintings. Will sell out quickly.

  At this time, he would go to her to ask for a painting, but every time he would come back empty-handed, like a powder keg that would explode at the slightest touch, which was very scary.

  It doesn’t matter if it’s scary, I want to follow him, learn to paint from him, I think one day my own paintings can fill this gallery and earn him a lot of money.

  If he agrees.

   (4)

  18-year-old Chinese New Year, my mother who had been with me for many years finally left me and left, leaving me alone with countless debts.

  Fu Jianchen seemed to have quarreled with that person, and came back angrily. He asked me if I wanted to go abroad to study painting?

  I answered without hesitation again: Yes.

  Fu Jianchen helped me pay off all my debts, gave up the gallery to others, and took me to Paris to learn painting.

  He rented the best house for me, bought a lot of beautiful clothes, and invited a very good teacher to teach me how to draw.

  As for him, besides drinking and smoking, he just looks at the sky outside.

  When looking at the sky, he would always touch the prayer beads in his hand, as if he was thinking about someone.

  Who is he thinking about?

   Once I couldn't help asking, he came back to look at my half-drawn drawing board, and said coldly: "Draw your picture well, and forget about men's business."

  I have long been used to his mouth that cannot speak well, so I asked again: "You like drawing so much, why don't you draw yourself?"

  He never said, and never took a paintbrush, but I know he loves to draw.

  No reason, I just know.

  He didn't attack me this time, he just raised his arm and smiled self-deprecatingly, "It's useless, I won't be able to hold a paintbrush in this life."

  I guessed it, but I was still sad, but I didn't feel sad for too long before I heard him say it again.

   "It's useless and useless, no teacher accepts me, they say I have no talent, fuck."

  I'm sad, I pretend.

   (5)

  When I was 20 years old, I participated in a competition recommended by my teacher, and became famous in the first battle. My work was bought by a rich businessman at a high price, and I became famous for a while.

   Followed by olive branches from major galleries, invitations to various gatherings and industry receptions.

  They would call me Mr. Chen, or "come late".

   Come late, Fu Jianchen named me for me, how nice it sounds.

  I like this name, I like it so much that I can't remember what my original name was.

I entered the circle of celebrities, faded away from the youthful and immature past, dressed in bright clothes, no longer a poor girl living in a leaky bungalow, surrounded by young talents, but I was never moved, because there was already someone in my heart .

   It’s just that I have never dared to tell him. I have been waiting, waiting for the day when I succeed and have enough courage to stand in front of him and tell him.

  I have changed a lot in the past few years, but Fu Jianchen doesn't seem to have changed. He still likes to smoke, drink, look at the sky, and like the string of beads on his wrist.

Sometimes he would receive a call from China, with grinning eyebrows, or furious, gnashing his teeth, "Xu Youyou, you can rely on your surname Mo to support you, do it as hard as you want, if I want to take care of you again, I will cut off your head." Drop it and use it as a stool for you to sit on."

  At the dinner party I attended in the evening, I drank two glasses of wine too much, and my mind was a little confused. I walked up to him and hugged him, "Don't be angry, I will draw for you in the future, one every day..."

  The person on the other end of the phone seemed to have heard my voice and said something. He looked very anxious and said anxiously: "What kind of **** sister-in-law, don't talk nonsense, it's nothing."

  Hung up the phone, he pulled me away and said angrily, "What are you doing?"

  I took advantage of the alcohol to embolden me, and declared my hidden love, "I like you for many years."

  He froze for a moment, then frowned and said, "I don't like you, so don't you like me, it's a waste of time."

   After speaking, he wanted to leave.

  I grabbed his hand, grabbed him with all my strength, and asked, "Why?"

   "There is no reason, if you don't like it, you don't like it. If the cow doesn't drink water, can you force its head?"

  He brushed my hand away and left.

  He left, and I locked myself at home to draw day and night.

  Because I always feel that I am not good enough, not good enough, as long as I can draw good enough pictures, as long as I can draw more pictures, he will look back at me.

   This painting lasted for four years. I have already become a well-known painter, and many people even in China are begging for one of my paintings.

   It's just my painting, which never hangs in his gallery.

   (6)

  So Fu Jianshen and I had a big fight. I wanted to hang the painting in his gallery, but he still didn't agree.

  I blurted out, "Then let's terminate the contract."

  I regretted it the moment I finished speaking, but the water that was thrown out by what I said was hard to recover.

  He was stunned for a moment, then nodded, "Okay, it's up to you."

  One sentence of "up to you" defeated my last line of defense, "You can say the amount of the termination fee."

   Today, I am no longer the little girl who stood outside the gallery and looked at the paintings on the wall. I have painted a lot of paintings and accumulated a lot of wealth. I have already paid off the debts he helped me pay off.

  He didn't answer, but just lit a cigarette and took a deep puff, then said, "I just want a painting, and I'll pay you with the painting."

   "It's up to you." I straightened my back, forced a smile and said, "Mr. Fu is really a shrewd businessman. He knows that my paintings will appreciate faster than those piles of numbers, and he will never lose money."

  Fu Jianshen raised his eyes, glanced at me lightly, and said nothing.

   "You have the key to the warehouse, you can take whichever one you want, and just keep the key after you get it." I was like a big rooster with high spirits, I raised my tail, and refused to admit defeat.

  He still left without saying anything.

   This time, he really left, leaving France completely.

  I also moved, but when I counted the paintings in the warehouse, I never felt that there was one painting missing.

   I don’t know if he forgot to take it, or he kept it and wanted to blackmail me later.

   (7)

  I’m going to get married at the age of 28. My fiancé is in business. Although he is not as good-looking as him, he can be considered a young talent. The most important thing is that he is gentle and funny, which is completely different from him.

   We dated for a year, and he proposed to me, but I declined after hesitation.

   Half a year later, he proposed to me again, and this time I didn't refuse.

  Fixed the date of the wedding, prepared for the wedding, the news was widely reported, even in China, there was a lot of news.

  The beautiful painter is about to get married, and her partner is gentle and wealthy. The two are a match made in heaven.

  Time passed day by day, but Fu Jianchen never called me.

  On the eve of the wedding, I couldn't hold back after all, and dialed the number I knew by heart after changing into the wedding dress worth three million.

   A familiar voice came from the phone, "Hello..."

   "It's me..." I haven't contacted for four years, my nervous palms are sweating, and my voice is trembling.

   "I know." Compared with my nervousness, he was much calmer, "What's the matter?"

  My heart suddenly sank into the icy lake, and I was so cold that I couldn't breathe, "I... am getting married."

   "Oh, congratulations." His reaction was even more flat, "Anything else?"

  I held my phone and didn't speak, but I heard him say to someone over there, "Mo Jiayue, you meow, draw graffiti on my motorcycle and see how I can deal with you..."

"Fu Jianchen..." I heard my voice almost crying, "Tomorrow I will get married, if you come, I will go with you. If you don't come, I will never draw again... "

  When he was in France, he hated me the most when I didn’t paint and went to some receptions. He said that I was born to hold a paintbrush, so I should sit in front of the canvas and not stay with those people who smell like copper.

  But at that time, in order to let him talk to me more, I always played against him, deliberately went to those occasions he didn't like, and made friends with those he didn't like.

  Fu Jianshen on the other end of the phone was silent for a long time, and just said lightly: "Whether you get married or not, and whether you paint or not are all up to you, you can do whatever you want."

   He hung up and I cried all night and begged my fiancé to postpone the wedding until tomorrow with swollen eyes the next day.

  I stood at the door of the church and waited for a day and a night, but Fu Jianchen did not come after all.

   It’s just that he entrusted a friend to send me a thick red envelope, and the back of the red envelope reads——

  「Wish you come late, happy wedding!」

  I took the wedding dress and turned around and walked into the church to hold the wedding, but I casually threw the red envelope to the homeless man on the side of the road.

   (7)

  After marriage, I lived a very happy life. My husband is considerate and my life is comfortable. I seldom know how to draw with a brush.

  Just after taking a nap, I occasionally lose my mind looking at the sunshine outside the window, and always feel that my life is passing away silently.

   What is going on, I don't know.

  Two years later, my husband’s company went bankrupt, and his temperament changed drastically. At first he just sneered at me, and then he beat and kicked me after drinking, forcing me to paint for him and sell the paintings to pay off his debts.

  But I haven't picked up a paintbrush for two years, and my paintings have long since had no market and no one cares about them.

  The debt weighed him down, and he vented all his anger on me. Every time after beating me, I would hug me and cry, crying and apologizing, and crying to promise that there would be no next time.

  I choose to forgive again and again, believe that he will change again and again, and believe that everything will be fine...

   I ended up lying in a hospital bed and the doctor told me I had a miscarriage and would never have children again.

   Facing my husband who was kneeling beside me and weeping bitterly, I chose to close my eyes and not look at him this time.

  Because I'm tired, really, very tired.

  After he left, I borrowed the phone from the nurse, and the moment the call was connected, I was already in tears.

  He didn't speak, and he didn't hang up the phone.

  After a long silence, I managed to squeeze out the words, "I want to go home, can you take me home?"

  He did not hesitate much as usual, and simply answered, "Okay."

(8)

  Fu Jianshen came to France to pick me up and go back to China. Before leaving, he helped me deal with everything, including the marriage that was too bad to describe.

  After returning to China, he arranged for me to live in a villa with a nanny to take care of me and a driver to facilitate my travel.

  I don’t like to go out, and I don’t want to go out. I stay at home every day in a daze, and the longest thing I do is stare at the sky in a daze.

  In the past, every time Fu Jianchen looked at the sky, I didn't understand why he looked at the sky, and what's so good about the sky.

   Now I seem to gradually understand his mood, and understand what is so beautiful about the sky.

  Fu Jianchen would visit me occasionally, bringing the latest paints, drawing paper, and a lot of information about painting.

  But I have no desire to paint, and I never want to pick up a paintbrush.

  Fu Jianchen didn't force me either, sometimes he didn't speak when he came, and sat beside me, the two of us stared at the sky in a daze.

  In the eyes of my aunt, we both look like two psychopaths, but I know that I am different from him.

  The person I look at is by my side, and the person he wants to look at is beside another man.

   He is very poor.

  I am also very poor.

  We are all poor.

(9)

   On New Year's Eve, Fu Jianshen came to accompany me to have the New Year's Eve dinner, and he left after the New Year's Eve dinner.

  Over the years, Fu Jianchen has two habits. One is that he never leaves the Buddhist beads on his wrist, and the other is that he goes to the mountain to burn incense every Spring Festival.

  For so many years, rain or shine, even in far away France, he would leave me and come back just to burn that stick of incense.

  I didn’t understand it before, but now I understand that he must have made a wish with the Buddha, and the Buddha promised him, so he must go once a year, rain or shine, and dare not slack off.

  Because he was afraid that if he slack off, what the Buddha promised him would be lost.

  I also want to pay homage to the Buddha and make a wish with the old man. When Fu Jianchen comes back, I will tell him to take me there next year.

  I waited from dawn to dusk, but what I waited for was a strange phone call.

  There were too many people going up the mountain to burn incense, and there was a stampede. Fu Jianchen was trampled to death in order to save a little girl.

  At that moment, the world was spinning, and the soul was split.

When I arrived, the crowd had been evacuated and the injured were sent to the hospital. Fu Jianshen was lying quietly on the muddy ground with footprints all over his body, his face was covered with mud, and he was still holding onto his hand. That old string of glowing beads.

  I knelt beside him, gently brushed the dirt off his face, and couldn't help laughing out loud.

  The police and the onlookers all looked at me with strange eyes.

   "Look at you, so what if the Buddha beads stay with you? What if you come to burn incense every year? The Buddha doesn't bless you at all...he doesn't work at all..."

  How would I know that this man prayed for the blessing of the Buddha for many years, but he was not the one who blessed him.

  Maybe I was too emotional, a fishy sweetness welled up in my throat, and I couldn't hold it back for a while, and I fell into a coma when my eyes went dark.

   Woke up again in the hospital with a lovely lady sitting by the bed.

  I have seen her many times, on TV, online, in dreams, and in Fu Jianchen's cell phone screen saver.

  This is the first time I've seen her in person, she's not as good-looking as Fu Jianchen's screen saver.

   But, it doesn't matter anymore.

   "This is the Buddhist bead that Jian Chen wears by his side. I think it's better to keep it for you."

  She put the beads on my bedside, and before leaving, she said: "There is also the gallery, which is left to you by Jian Shen, and you can do whatever you want with it."

  I got out of the hospital and went to the gallery I hadn't been to for a long time.

  The decoration has not changed for many years, and Xu Youyou's paintings hang the most on the walls.

   It's just that when I walked to the rest area, I saw a painting that shouldn't be here.

  The clerk told me that this is the painting brought back by the boss from France, and it is the painting of Mr. Chen before he became famous. Few people know about it.

  I looked at the paintings on the wall and burst into tears.

  It turned out that the painting he took away back then was nothing else but the first complete painting I drew when I was 16 years old—“Sugar Haws”

   It was the bunch of candied haws he gave me back then.

   (11)

  I wanted to paint again, in the first year after Fu Jianshen passed away.

  I set up an easel in front of his tombstone, picked up the brush again, and painted from the gray sky to the sunset.

  After finishing the last stroke, I let out a long sigh of relief, as if I had finished my life.

  Short, but no regrets.

  I got up, walked to the tombstone and sat down, picked up the bottle next to me, poured out countless pills and swallowed them in one gulp.

  Lie quietly beside him, showing a long-lost smile.

   "Fu Jianchen, this time I won't extravagantly ask you to love me. It's just that, when you're crossing the river of forgetfulness, can you slow down and wait for me... don't leave me alone.

  I'm afraid... I won't be able to eat the candied haws you handed me again. "

  The evening breeze caressed gently, and the paper on the easel rubbed against the easel to make a salsa sound.

  The setting sun is reflected on the painting, and the wet paint shows the silhouette of a man with a string of old prayer beads on his wrist.

  「End Note」

  I gave the string of prayer beads to Mo Jiayue, the daughter of his favorite person.

  And that painting was named "Love is Deep", signed: Zhang Hui.

  Chen Wanlai is the pseudonym Fu Jianshen chose for me, and Zhang Hui is my original name.

  The spring tide brings rain and comes late, and the wild crossing is unmanned.

  We all just did it, with deep affection.

—

  「End of the full text」——

  (end of this chapter)