Rebirth: He Decides to Lie Flat-Chapter 48 - 045 Jiang Yans Plan (Second Update)
Chapter 48 -045 Jiang Yan’s Plan (Second Update)
Chapter 48 -045 Jiang Yan’s Plan (Second Update)
The boy spoke in a stammering fashion, and his narrative was everywhere, but after everyone listened intently with furrowed brows, they still understood the cause and effect.
The boy was a humanities student in his second year of high school, and he had a crush on Deng Tao, a senior and the school idol, which was not surprising. As the school idol, it was normal for Deng Tao to have several junior male admirers.
It was also common knowledge that she was good at drawing. Some had even secretly bet on obtaining one of her paintings, though none had managed to do so openly. However, two had stealthily watched the art studio and noticed that Deng Tao would often become dissatisfied with a painting and tear it up before throwing it in the trash.
Some people had picked up her discarded paintings from the trash bin.
One day, in the small grove behind the school cafeteria, the boy saw Deng Tao look at the painting for a long time before ripping it up without hesitation, then tossing it into two nearby trash bins.
After she left, the boy rummaged through the trash bins, but unfortunately, one half of the painting had been soaked by spoiled food. He only managed to salvage half that was still visible. He took it home, carefully wiped it off, and pieced it together, then used transparent tape to hold it in place.
Originally, he had kept this half painting secretly in his bag, but today, after class, he accidentally brought it out, and two mischievous boys in the class saw it and laughed as they passed it around.
It so happened that Teacher Xiaowang came to their class looking for a relative who was a student there. As he entered the room, he saw the half painting flutter to the ground at his feet…
After the boy finished speaking, the office was dead silent.
The face of the Year 6 homeroom teacher turned red with embarrassment, nearly dripping with shame. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at Teacher Fang, and he most certainly did not want to look at Deng Tao.
He was now considering how to resolve this matter.
As a homeroom teacher, he was not quick to give up on any student in the class, and given Deng Tao’s excellent grades, even if she did not pursue art, she could still be admitted to a decent school.
But he knew she had high aspirations; average universities weren’t good enough for her.
However, the current moment wasn’t the time to think about this. The negative repercussions of the incident had already occurred; Song Jiawen would definitely not be able to participate in the competition. He wanted Teacher Fang to downplay the matter and give Deng Tao a chance.
“Teacher Fang….”
“He’s lying!”
The moment the Year 6 homeroom teacher began to speak, Deng Tao suddenly blurted out. She pointed at the boy, looked at the homeroom teacher with tearful eyes, and said in a very aggrieved tone, “Teacher, I don’t even know him. He’s slandering me.”
The boy looked up at Deng Tao, then turned to Teacher Xiaowang, equally distressed, “I didn’t…”
He wasn’t even an art student. How would he know whose painting it was, and why would he steal it?
And he had a crush on her—how could he possibly slander her?
This Deng Tao seemed different from the one he had observed and imagined. In this moment, the angel wings in his heart’s image of Deng Tao suddenly disappeared, along with her vibrant clothes. She fell back to earth, becoming just another ordinary girl like the dusty-faced ones in his class.
Teacher Fang looked coldly at Deng Tao, “You said earlier that I had no evidence and was biased. Now that there’s a witness, you’re saying you’re being framed. What’s the matter? Do you think you’re a fairy? That everyone’s out to get you and falsely accuse you?”
That was just short of saying, “Who do you think you are?”
Deng Tao had never experienced such humiliation. Her face turned pale, her lips quivered, and she looked on the verge of tears.
But Teacher Fang had already stopped paying her any mind. She stood up with the painting, turning to the Year 6 homeroom teacher, “I’ll report this incident to the principal. As for how to handle it, I’ll follow the school’s decision. Teacher Huang, if you have any objections, you can take them up with the principal.”
With that, Teacher Fang turned and headed for the door, calling Teacher Xiaowang and the boy to follow.
Soon, only the Year 6 homeroom teacher and Deng Tao were left in the art office.
Deng Tao was chilled to the bone, trembling slightly, as tears streamed down her cheeks. She looked at the homeroom teacher with a glimmer of hope, “Teacher…”
The Year 6 homeroom teacher was exhausted. He looked bewilderedly at Deng Tao. She was such a smart girl—why would she do something so foolish?
“Do you think your life has been going too smoothly?”
He waved his hand feebly, “I’ll grant your leave, go home, and explain things to your dad, see how to handle this matter.”
His meaning was clear, once Teacher Fang reported to the principal, the matter would have to be handled according to the school’s regulations. As the form teacher, he could plead on the student’s behalf, which might have some effect, but not a significant one.
And the key issue was, he had to be willing to plead.
But clearly, he no longer wanted to deal with this matter; although as the form teacher he could not entirely shirk the responsibility, he would push it off as much as possible—he truly did not want to intervene at all.
Deng Tao wasn’t foolish and naturally understood the form teacher’s implication.
In the end, Deng Tao left the school with a lost soul.
Meanwhile, Song Jiawen, the person involved, was still oblivious to the incident. She had even forgotten about participating in the painting competition until Jiang Yan brought it up, at which point she mentioned one crucial detail about the contest, “The first prize is five thousand yuan in prize money.”
Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow, “Huh, that’s quite a bit, it’s equivalent to selling ten paintings at the Shanshui Gallery.”
Song Jiawen turned her head, “Why do I feel like there’s a weird undertone when you say that?”
Jiang Yan didn’t admit it.
The source of this c𝓸ntent is frёeweɓηovel.coɱ.
The Sunday before last, he had accompanied her to Song Qingping’s, where the Peony and Bee Picture had already been sold, and Huang Kai had given her the five hundred yuan.
Song Jiawen was very cooperative and painted two more pictures that day in the Shanshui Gallery’s studio, but she made it clear she only wanted the money for one painting, the other would belong to the gallery if it sold.
Hearing this, Jiang Yan’s heart ached unbearably. Sister, do you not know how famous you’ll be in the future?
Not to mention anything else, just having one of your paintings hanging in this shabby little gallery would make it instantly popular.
Afterward, Jiang Yan started thinking, perhaps he should ask Song Jiawen to gift him a few paintings?
Of course, he wouldn’t sell them—he’d collect them.
Thinking this way, he found the idea very feasible. While Song Jiawen was not yet famous, he could collect a dozen or twenty of her paintings. Then, when her reputation grew, he could sell them at the right time.
With the money from the sales, he could buy then a dozen apartments and rent them out. That way, even if he did nothing, he could still make money.
He wouldn’t even need to manage her gallery anymore.
Alas, how had he not thought of this shortcut before?
Excited, Jiang Yan just wanted to slap his thigh, but when he mentioned this to Song Jiawen, she rejected him outright.
“Why? Our relationship should be pretty good, right? It’s just one painting, are you being that stingy?”
However, Song Jiawen spoke with just conviction, “The Chinese paintings I do outside are mostly for selling; I would feel pain giving it to you, after all, it’s five hundred yuan, a good few months’ worth of living expenses for me; but if I sell it to you, I’d feel embarrassed to take your money. Either way, it’s awkward, so why must you ask for my painting?”
Really no sense of propriety!
There were two more things Song Jiawen didn’t say: You don’t even appreciate art, what would you do with it? It would be a waste.
Or, you’re just planning to sell it for money. But selling my paintings to make money for yourself, how would you have the cheek to do that?
Really, by not pointing these two things out to him, Song Jiawen was sparing him some dignity.
