Falling in Love With My Arranged-Marriage Husband
Chapter 212: 186 You Should Call Me Godfather

Chapter 212: Chapter 186 You Should Call Me Godfather

Ji Sang couldn’t tear her eyes away, standing outside the fence, watching the entire process of a patient inside painting.

If she felt compelled to describe this scene with just one phrase, Ji Sang could only choose the most unadorned and simple one after rifling through her entire vocabulary.

Pleasing to the eyes.

It was during this process that Ji Sang understood a bit why she initially saw resilience in this patient.

Even though she was standing far away, unable to see clearly, she could still feel the strength with which this patient held the brush while painting.

Feverish.

This was the first time she felt a strong desire to get to know someone.

Ji Sang hurried to the front gate and called over a staff member.

Originally, she had intended to enter by expressing an interest in learning about the sanitarium, but communication revealed that new patients were accepted only through connections with the management.

Ji Sang pursed her lips and gave her name.

“I am the daughter of the Ji Family.”

The nurse stopped in her tracks, her eyebrows and eyes showing a flicker of surprise; she crossed her arms over her waist and bowed slightly.

“Please wait a moment, I will inform the head nurse.”

Ji Sang lowered her gaze and nodded.

In less than a minute, the head nurse came over.

“Ms. Ji, please come this way.”

The head nurse, with a respectful and dignified smile, slightly bowed, pressing the fabric of her garment at her abdomen with her left hand, and pointing the way with her right.

Ji Sang nodded lightly and followed them inside.

They went straight to the VIP visitor’s lounge.

“Ms. Ji, please rest here for a moment; the director happens to be here today and will come over shortly.”

Ji Sang took the tea and sipped.

It seemed she was presumed to have come for a work-related discussion.

Good, she also wanted to know who was behind this sanitarium.

After servings of pastries were brought, the head nurse left the visitor’s lounge.

Then Ji Sang began to examine the decorations in the lounge.

It had a more familial feel, not much like a workplace but more like a study room at home.

Its owner must come here often.

Ji Sang looked around the whole room and noticed that the most common decorations were paintings.

There were sketches, watercolors, and oil paintings.

Ji Sang couldn’t help being drawn to these paintings. She stood up and slowly approached them.

Under each painting was a signature, but unlike others, these signatures only had the date on which the painting was made, without the artist’s name.

Ji Sang’s eyes flickered.

All her attention was captured by one painting.

It was a sketch, with a flower on it.

Ji Sang didn’t pay much attention to plants and flowers, but she recognized this uncolored flower at first glance.

Rose.

A rose without its red garb, yet still burning bright and captivating.

Ji Sang’s heart tightened slightly, and she took an unconscious step forward.

Just as she was about to lean in for a closer look, the door was suddenly opened.

Ji Sang looked back and saw a scholarly middle-aged man standing at the entrance.

He was dressed in simple white casual clothes, with a pair of silver-rimmed glasses on his nose.

His eyes looked at her with a gentle smile.

Ji Sang straightened up and bowed slightly to greet him.

“Sorry, this painting is so appealing that I, without your permission, just…”

The middle-aged man raised his hand to stop what Ji Sang was about to say next.

“A painting hung on the wall is meant for people to appreciate.”

As he spoke, the middle-aged man entered the room next to Ji Sang, looking at the wall painting with a faint smile on his lips.

“It’s very nice, isn’t it?”

Just a simple sketch, and one might even say that it is only half-finished, yet it possesses a magnetic charm.

“Every time I’m here, I admire the paintings on this wall, but every time, my gaze stays on this one the longest.”

Ji Sang stood aside, quietly listening to the director’s words, the distance between them just right, within the range she could feel comfortable with.

Moreover, the entire demeanor of the director could be described in only two words.

Serenity.

It was the enlightenment of someone who, after having weathered great storms, has seen through life and regarded the world with detachment.

Just by viewing this painting with the intention of an introduction, Yong Qi almost got sucked into the vortex of this painting.

Yong Qi’s eyes and eyebrows faintly moved.

“Ah Shang, why did you come here today?”

This sentence successfully pulled Ji Sang back from her reverie.

Ji Sang looked at the director beside her in surprise.

“How could you…?”

She shouldn’t have met the person in front of her before.

Yong Qi smiled, adjusted his glasses,

“That’s right, you were only eight years old at the time, it’s normal that you don’t remember me.”

Eight years old…

The year she had just arrived at the Ji Family.

Ji Sang furrowed her brow; she indeed didn’t remember much from when she was eight.

“Are you a friend of my father?”

Yong Zheng smiled,

“I suppose so, if we really get down to it, you should probably call me godfather.”

Ji Sang: ??????

“Godfather?”

Why had she never heard her parents mention such a thing?

Yong Zheng played coy, successfully arousing Ji Sang’s curiosity, but didn’t give the answer.

“Let’s sit down and chat.”

Yong Zheng led Ji Sang to sit on a wooden sofa and personally poured her a glass of water.

“I went far away for some time recently and couldn’t attend Ah Jun’s funeral. I had planned to visit you and Mu Qing today, but to my surprise, you came here.”

Ah Jun…

Ji Sang lowered her gaze, quietly contemplating these two words.

Yong Qi’s eyes held a sense of loss, sadness, but it was not quite the kind of look Ji Sang thought would come from a suitor of Mu Qing.

It was merely the pain of an old friend’s passing.

Ji Sang took a sip of water.

She never wanted to remember, mention, or have others mention her mother’s matters.

Perhaps sensing Ji Sang’s silence, Yong Zheng belatedly furrowed his brow in annoyance.

“Sorry,”

He admittedly hadn’t thought through his words very much.

With Ah Jun’s death, apart from Ji Hanwen, the most heartbroken was Ji Sang.

But he had brought up this matter in front of her.

Ji Sang gently relaxed her furrowed brow, reining in her emotions.

“It’s okay.”

She could only utter these two feeble words.

Yong Qi’s tightly clasped hands loosened and then clenched again, finally just picking up the teapot to pour Ji Sang another cup of water.

“If you’re reluctant to call me godfather, just calling me Uncle Yong is fine too, as ‘Director’ is too impersonal.”

Ji Sang nodded.

Yong Qi then asked,

“What made you think of coming here today?”

Yong Qi thought that the sanitarium was mentioned to Ji Sang by Ji Hanwen.

“Your father…”

Ji Sang quickly waved her hand,

“No, I just came to have a look.”

Ji Sang pointed at the SLR camera in her bag,

“Um… consider it coming to find inspiration.”

She didn’t express her true reasons for coming.

Yong Qi was aware of Ji Sang’s profession, and hearing this, he didn’t have any doubts.

“Feel free to take pictures, but you should still seek their own consent.”

Ji Sang understood this principle, of course.

“Director… Uncle Yong, the person who was painting in the pavilion just now and these paintings on the wall…”

She found herself at a loss for words while mentioning this.

She simply felt that the person painting in the pavilion was connected to the artists of these paintings.