Being Raised in Captivity by the Former Canary - Chapter 3

Some encounters between people overlap during specific periods of their lives.

At least, this was true for Jiang Jixue seven years ago and Quan Ruo’an three years ago, or even now.

Seven years ago, Jiang Jixue had just started university when tragedy struck. Her eighty-year-old grandmother passed away, followed immediately by her family’s company filing for bankruptcy. After neglecting her studies for a time, compounded by her severe mental illness, she was forced to return to China by the Repin Academy of Fine Arts.

After accompanying her grandmother on her final journey, Jiang Jixue retook the art and national college entrance exams. Fortunately, the results weren’t too bad, and she still managed to get into a drama academy in R City.

After paying a year’s tuition, her invisible father, who had married into the family, disappeared, and her mother, who had taken over the family business, died of a cerebral hemorrhage.

It all happened in what seemed like a single breath, too fast for her to react. In this vast world, she was left alone, clinging to life by a thread.

The exorbitant tuition fees, expensive paints, and art supplies only added to her crushing burden.

In her third year, Jiang Jixue didn’t choose to intern at an advertising company like her classmates. Instead, she relapsed into alcoholism, just as she had during the harsh Russian winters.

By chance, a newly renovated bar with a new owner hired her to paint murals on its walls.

It was during this time that she met Quan Ruo’an.

One afternoon, while Jiang Jixue was painting, Sister Han, the bar owner, quietly approached and patted her shoulder. “Xiao Jiang, you can finish early today.”

“Huh?” Jiang Jixue looked up. “Why?”

“A group of ‘rich and powerful’ guests are coming tonight,” Sister Han explained. “We need to set up the venue and clear space for them in advance.”

“But Sister Han, I’m just getting into the flow, and I can finish in another hour.”

Having worked together for a few days, Sister Han had a good sense of Jiang Jixue’s personality. “Well, you professionals certainly have your dedication,” she said. “Alright, just hurry up then.”

“Okay.”

Unable to persuade her otherwise, Sister Han let her continue.

By seven o’clock on a winter evening, the sky was already pitch-black, an immense, pristine canvas devoid of even a single star.

Jiang Jixue had just finished for the day and was slowly sipping a hard-earned complimentary Tequila Sunrise at the bar when Sister Han sat down beside her.

“How’s the taste today?”

“Everything’s perfect,” Jiang Jixue replied.

After this brief exchange, a long silence settled between them.

Sister Han slid a black business card with gold lettering across the counter. The side with the name faced down, revealing only a snowflake-like emblem with floral elements on the back.

“Someone saw your paintings and admires your work,” Sister Han said.

Jiang Jixue glanced at it casually. “What’s this?”

“Her assistant’s business card.”

“Using business cards these days is rare,” Jiang Jixue remarked, glancing at it. “I’m not talking about the card itself. What’s her intention in having you deliver this message?”

She had encountered this scenario many times before. Someone would use her art as a pretext to get close, and the next step would inevitably be an offer of patronage.

“I told her about your situation, and she said she wants to commission a painting from you. Xiao Jiang, it must be tough working odd jobs everywhere, and art school tuition is so expensive… A single painting for someone wealthy could cover your tuition for an entire year. Anyway, she’s sitting in the middle booth. Do you want to meet her?”

“Sister Han, I don’t think this is just about a painting.”

Jiang Jixue’s blunt statement startled Sister Han, who hadn’t considered that angle. “Wait, but the person is a woman. She probably doesn’t have those kinds of intentions, right?”

“A woman?” Jiang Jixue was surprised, then added, “Judging someone’s character based on a single mural? I can’t decide if that’s pretentious or just plain bad taste.”

With that, Jiang Jixue picked up the business card and stood up. Facing Sister Han, she said, “It’s too noisy here. Can I give you an answer tomorrow?”

Sister Han agreed, “Sure, no problem.” She then asked, “Are you leaving already?”

Jiang Jixue replied honestly, “I haven’t had alcohol in ages. I want to savor it slowly. I’m going out for some fresh air.”

“Alright, I’ll wait here for you,” Sister Han said. “Otherwise, the waiter might clear it away.”

“Thank you.”

After saying goodbye to Sister Han, Jiang Jixue grabbed her coat from the seat and headed outside.

Under the streetlights at night, the white mist of her breath was clearly visible.

Jiang Jixue had just emerged from the raucous bar, her ears still ringing with the residual noise. She had intended to sit on the bench beneath the streetlight and enjoy the cool night air.

But at a glance, she saw that her usual spot was already occupied.

Beneath the streetlight, a long-haired woman in a dark gray coat was lighting a cigarette. Her posture was remarkably elegant, and her features were strikingly beautiful.

Noticing Jiang Jixue’s gaze, the woman turned her head. Her face was truly breathtaking, with sculpted bone structure, deep-set eyes, and a high, prominent nose. When she narrowed her eyes to look at someone, her gaze was as piercing as that of a European noble, yet softened by a hint of Eastern grace and refinement.

Quan Ruo’an’s eyebrow twitched imperceptibly when she saw the person behind her—the artist from earlier. What a coincidence.

She patted the empty space beside her and asked, “Want to join me?” Her voice was husky, tinged with a seductive and teasing quality, and her clear eyes sparkled with amusement.

Since the invitation had been extended, Jiang Jixue couldn’t refuse. She stepped forward and gently sat down beside her.

Quan Ruo’an switched the cigarette to her other hand, taking a drag before offering the pack to Jiang Jixue.

She received a cool, clear refusal from the girl.

“Thank you, but I don’t smoke.”

Jiang Jixue watched the cigarette pack drift away from her sight.

“Have you made up your mind?” Quan Ruo’an asked, her face expressionless.

“Made up my mind about what?” Jiang Jixue asked, confused.

Quan Ruo’an turned to face her, studying her with leisurely scrutiny. Her eyelids lowered and lifted, subtly assessing Jiang Jixue before she chuckled softly.

“Never mind.”

Jiang Jixue sat on the chair, puzzled. The woman’s words were strange and cryptic.

From her refined demeanor, the expensive perfume she wore, and her impeccable attire, it was clear that Quan Ruo’an came from a wealthy background.

By the time Jiang Jixue realized what the woman had meant, Quan Ruo’an had already vanished.

That evening, back in her dormitory—a four-person room now reduced to three after one roommate moved out—Jiang Jixue found herself alone. It was the weekend, and her two remaining roommates were staying out.

After showering, Jiang Jixue lay in bed.

Just as she was about to drift off, a sudden thought struck her. She sat up again and reached into her coat pocket, pulling out the business card she had found earlier.

As Sister Han had said, she was indeed broke as a joke.

Why had Jiang Jixue, after a period of heavy drinking, suddenly switched to sipping sparingly, even nursing a free tequila sunrise she’d earned after a day’s work? The answer was simple: she was broke.

If her contact turned out to be wealthy, even a small windfall would be welcome.

After adding the contact, Jiang Jixue fell asleep.

Meanwhile, in a villa in R City’s affluent district, a woman in a long red silk robe reclined on a chaise lounge by the floor-to-ceiling windows, gently swirling the red wine in her glass.

The crimson liquid resembled a bloody vortex, both absorbing and devouring the decadent night.

A phone call interrupted her reverie. She stopped swirling the wine, tapped the ash from the cigar in her other hand, and finally answered.

“Sister Quan, I’ve added Miss Jiang’s contact.”

Quan Ruo’an instructed coldly, “Good. Invite her to my Jiangjing residence next weekend. Fifty thousand for a portrait.”

“But… Sister Quan, this is a private commission. I’m not sure she’ll accept.”

Quan Ruo’an chuckled softly, as if hearing a joke. “She’ll come. Besides, we’re both women. What’s there to worry about?”

On the other end of the line, Ruo Shui, her assistant, muttered inwardly, It’s precisely because you’re the kind of woman you are that I’m worried.

Another Saturday arrived.

Jiang Jixue, carrying her familiar art supplies, followed the address provided on WeChat to the city’s outskirts, far from the urban clamor and restlessness.

As she walked through the tranquil villa district, she forced herself to relax, striving to blend her demeanor with the serene atmosphere.

Finding the correct house, she entered the gate code, and the black courtyard gate slowly swung open, prompting a sigh of relief.

Having been out of touch with the upper echelons of society for so long, she felt an overwhelming sense of pressure.

If the assistant had simply given her the door code, Jiang Jixue would have entered the house without a hitch.

The impeccably clean interior showed no trace of daily living. Morning sunlight filtered through sheer curtains, enhancing the tranquil, comfortable ambiance. It was immediately clear that the owner was a refined member of the upper class.

Just moments after Jiang Jixue entered, still standing uncertainly, a figure appeared at the bend of the staircase. A woman in a bathrobe lazily descended.

Quan Ruo’an’s wine-red bathrobe accentuated her slender, graceful figure. Her hair curled slightly at the ends. With a gentle smile, she glanced toward Jiang Jixue’s position.

It’s her?!

As Jiang Jixue recognized the woman’s profile, she finally understood the meaning behind her words from that day.

“What are you standing there for? Bring your art supplies and come upstairs with me,” Quan Ruo’an instructed calmly.

The “It’s you?” that Jiang Jixue had been about to say caught in her throat.

This woman… she booked a private life drawing session…

Jiang Jixue’s mind raced. Clutching her art supply toolbox, she followed Quan Ruo’an upstairs.

In a room with no discernible purpose, a small round French wooden table stood, set with an exquisite Western breakfast.

Quan Ruo’an was already seated there, elegantly enjoying her meal.

“Miss Quan,” Jiang Jixue greeted coldly.

“Have you eaten?” Quan Ruo’an glanced up at her.

A casual greeting.

“I don’t usually eat breakfast,” Jiang Jixue replied.

Quan Ruo’an finished the last piece of her fluffy waffle, took a sip of her iced Americano, and then set it down, done.

Is that all she’s eating? Jiang Jixue thought, watching her wipe her mouth.

Is she showing off how elegantly she eats?

“Let’s go. It’s my first time commissioning a portrait and posing as the model myself. Miss Jiang, you’ll have to help me adjust my posture later,” Quan Ruo’an murmured, walking ahead of her. “I don’t even know how to pose properly…”

Jiang Jixue followed behind, letting Quan Ruo’an lead the way.

“You…”

“Did you receive the thirty thousand yuan deposit?”

Jiang Jixue’s words caught in her throat, and she swallowed them back. “…Yes, I did.”

Quan Ruo’an led Jiang Jixue to a pair of narrow-framed doors. Pushing them open revealed a large bed and half a living room, immediately filling the air with a woman’s delicate fragrance. A bouquet of blooming irises on the bedside table and matching decor came into view.

“For creative work, I find it’s best to be in familiar surroundings,” Quan Ruo’an’s voice whispered in her ear.

“So, this is your bedroom?” Jiang Jixue asked, forcing herself to appear composed despite the intimate setting.

Quan Ruo’an crossed her arms, humming in agreement. Her gaze turned playful as she looked at Jiang Jixue.