ebonymovies Chapter 621 The Reclusive Arthur
Chapter 621 The Reclusive Arthur
……
……
"Did the Beijing Film Academy prepare a surprise for me?"
A faint look of doubt appeared between Gu Qing's brows. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly against his knee.
"Is it going to be another movie by some big director?"
For other artists, a film by a renowned director is undoubtedly a windfall.
But for Gu Qing, it was nothing more than adding icing on the cake, offering no real help whatsoever.
in contrast,
Those big directors benefited more from him.
It was filmed well; the director's guidance was excellent.
The director honed the acting skills of a young actor who started as an idol, and all the credit goes to him.
If the film is a flop, they can blame it on the popularity of the actors, saying, "Gu Qing's acting skills can't support this role."
"The popular celebrities dragged down the whole film," while he himself remained quietly out of the spotlight.
He had seen this tactic too many times in the industry during his previous life, and he could almost recite the standard template for press releases.
This explains why the Beijing Film Academy was so eager for Gu Qing to join them, and why the school genuinely cared about his well-being.
As the largest and most prestigious university in the industry, the Beijing Film Academy possesses unparalleled resources and connections.
Gu Qing was naturally willing to accept the gesture of wanting to pave more paths for his prized student.
Furthermore,
Gu Qing had seen Director Chen's film "The Legend of the Demon Cat" in her previous life.
The visuals are exquisite, and the art direction, costumes, and props are also very good. Although the narrative is somewhat rambling, the overall quality is definitely not that of a bad movie.
After considering all the factors, he accepted the offer without hesitation.
But if the Beijing Film Academy gets used to doing good deeds and continues to push him to Zhang Yimou, then Gu Qing will really be in a difficult situation.
Director Chen is at most a bit of a pretentious intellectual, arrogant, and thinks he is the last cultural backbone of Chinese cinema.
But his weaknesses are also obvious.
He likes to be flattered, likes people to understand his allusions, and likes people to be able to pick up on his casual recitations of Tang and Song poems and anecdotes about literary figures.
As long as you flatter him and say a few words like, "Director Chen, this shot is really poetic," he will immediately beam with joy; he's very easy to manipulate.
But what about Zhang Yimou?
Having been in the industry for so long, Gu Qing has gained some understanding of it, based on the mixed rumors from his previous life.
This national-level director has an almost obsessive fixation on the aesthetics of female characters.
Without exception, when faced with auditioning actresses, they must first make them play the role of a mistress, throwing tantrums and forcing the real wife to abandon her wife and children.
It's unclear whether this is some kind of obedience test or a deeply ingrained quirk in his personal camerawork.
The assistant director, who was acting alongside her, publicly complained on his blog that he had been beaten, pushed, splashed with water, and slapped by at least a thousand actresses who had played mistresses.
In the movie,
The female protagonist is often humiliated, yet she still keeps her stubbornly pure eyes open in the mud. That clash between brokenness and purity is his favorite cinematic language.
I just love that one bite.
The pure and innocent little white flower was defiled and forced by the villain, blooming the most sacred flower in the dirtiest environment.
And the male protagonist in his lens
They were either feudal and sinister landlords or cowardly and submissive little people manipulated by fate; there were very few truly heroic figures.
He preferred to portray men as "weak" or "evil" to highlight women's resilience, revealing a glimmer of humanity in the deepest darkness.
To Gu Qing, what's the difference between Zhang Yimou and a lunatic?
He knows his own physical features all too well.
If Zhang Yimou saw him, and perhaps a novel idea popped into his head, and he decided to try something new and pull off a dramatic reversal, what would happen?
I wanted Gu Qing to portray a broken boy crushed by fate with his stubborn eyes.
Then he'll probably hit someone.
"No way, if the school really pushes Zhang Yimou to it, I'll stick to it no matter what."
Gu Qing mentally went through the worst possible scenario from beginning to end, and couldn't help but shudder.
……
In the capital, there is an old courtyard house.
The walls are gray and the tiles are black. The lintel is carved with lotus patterns. Two stone lions squat on the left and right in front of the door, their mouths slightly open and their manes smooth and rounded by the years.
Two large red lanterns hung in front of the door, casting a soft, warm glow in the twilight.
The house is simple and unpretentious, nestled quietly deep within this old alley.
Just as Gu Qing was preparing to visit Director Chen's home.
Director Chen took a unique approach and personally prepared the hospitality for his guests at home.
Early in the morning,
As dawn broke and the thin frost that had formed the night before still clung to the eaves of the courtyard house, Director Chen had already woken up in his study.
The first thing I do when I wake up is
He walked to the desk, where half a cup of cold tea left over from last night was still on the table.
Director Chen extended two fingers, lightly dipped the tips into the teacup, absorbing some cool tea, and then casually applied it around his eyes, muttering something as he did so:
"Oh my, tea can improve eyesight."
After applying the tea, he put down his fingers, picked up the teacup again, and poured the remaining tea from the bottom of the bowl into his mouth.
He tilted his head back and gurgled it a few times in his throat, making a loud and long gargling sound, before swallowing it down.
The entire set of movements was fluid and graceful, as if performing a long-lost traditional art – Dragon Lacking Water.
After finishing his combo attack, Director Chen, looking energetic, picked up his phone and called his two personal assistants, who were always at his beck and call, inviting them to his home.
"You should contact a housekeeping service for me now and have someone clean the living room, the yard, and my study."
Remember to keep a close eye on them and make sure no careless person is sent over.
Director Chen, with his hands behind his back, said indifferently, "A young friend is coming to visit tonight, and I must prepare to welcome him warmly."
"Yes, I understand. Director Chen, is there anything else you need?"
The personal assistant next to him held a phone in one hand and a pen and paper in the other, the pen tip gliding rapidly across the paper, his face full of obedient subservience.
As for why not use a phone's notes app?
Director Chen thought that thing was tacky!
Where is even a trace of the refined elegance of a scholar's hospitality?
"Then arrange for a chef. The main dishes should be beef and mutton, and a stone pot stuffed tofu should also be made. The tofu should be firm tofu made with brine, not gypsum tofu. It is not suitable for this dish."
Finally, prepare some delicate pastries and desserts for us to enjoy with tea after the meal.
Director Chen strolled leisurely, his cloth shoes making almost no sound on the blue brick floor.
He walked and talked, his gaze occasionally sweeping over the room's furnishings, his brows sometimes furrowing and sometimes relaxing.
Two servants followed closely behind.
As he walked to the vase in the center of the living room, he suddenly stopped, his brows furrowing deeply.
Director Chen pointed to the bunch of red roses in the vase, his tone filled with disgust as if he had seen something incomprehensible and filthy.
"And throw these roses away! They're utterly vulgar!"
"In winter, we admire wintersweet and plum blossoms. Remember to order a few fresh flowers with branches delivered from the florist."
"Director Chen, these roses were specially given to us by Sister Hong yesterday..."
An assistant looked up, cautiously trying to explain.
"She's the head of the household, and I'm the head of the household?"
Director Chen glanced at him indifferently and let out a very soft snort from his nose.
"Of course it's Director Chen, you're the most important."
The assistant inwardly groaned, immediately lowered his head, and obediently wrote in his notebook: Throw away the roses and replace them with plum blossoms.
"That's all for now. You can go ahead and get back to work. I'll let you know if there are any updates."
After surveying his territory, Director Chen waved his hand impatiently.
The two assistants exchanged a relieved glance and said in unison, "Director Chen, we'll take our leave now."
As the assistant's footsteps faded outside the courtyard gate, the courtyard once again fell into the quiet unique to a winter afternoon.
But Director Chen did not rest on his laurels.
He walked to the full-length mirror in the bedroom and carefully tidied his appearance in front of the mirror.
He smoothed his sideburns, pressed down on non-existent wrinkles on his forehead, and finally focused all his attention on his thick, dark, and sharp "sword eyebrows."
Director Chen leaned closer to the mirror, his eyes glazed over, almost holding his breath, as he carefully ran his fingertips along the direction of his eyebrows, the movement as gentle as if he were caressing a piece of antique celadon.
As the saying goes, extraordinary people always have extraordinary appearances, and these sword-like eyebrows are a divinely bestowed feature that proves his extraordinary nature!
"Just like Gu Qing's photographic memory, I am also deeply loved by Heaven."
Director Chen silently consoled himself.
After grooming his eyebrows, he turned and went to the wardrobe, opened the solid wood cabinet door carved with the Four Gentlemen (plum blossom, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum) patterns, and began to choose his "appearance" for the evening.
The clothes hanging in the wardrobe are neatly arranged according to their color and the formality of the occasion.
Dark gray Chinese-style cotton robe with knotted buttons, navy blue stand-up collar Zhongshan suit, dark red Tang suit...
Director Chen tried on several pieces before finally making a satisfactory selection.
After all this busy work was completed, it was almost noon.
In the bedroom,
A woman with a face as white as a silver plate, whose gentle and dignified demeanor from her youth was still faintly visible, slowly woke up from her bed.
Chen Hong covered her mouth with her hand and yawned. She had just stepped out of the bedroom to wash up when she stopped at the door of the living room.
She looked at the scene before her with slight astonishment.
That old rascal of mine, who even needs the nanny to bring him his teacup every day...
At this moment, he was sitting at the antique sandalwood tea table in the living room, sleeves rolled up, personally washing the tea set.
The entire tabletop was covered with a dense array of exquisite and beautiful porcelain pieces, as well as several antique-style pure tin tea canisters that she had never seen before.
"Brother Ge, what's going on?"
Chen Hong blinked, making sure she wasn't seeing things.
"Honghong is awake?"
Upon seeing that it was his wife who had woken up, Director Chen looked up from the tea set and smiled faintly.
He put down the teacup he was wiping with a tea towel, raised the small, delicate white porcelain cup, and gestured slightly in her direction.
"Come, help your husband judge its quality."
Over the years, Chen Hong has long been accustomed to her husband's unpredictable artistic temperament and can easily keep her expression on her face.
She walked gracefully to the tea table, her back ramrod straight, her posture dignified and elegant.
She reached out her hands, just about to take the teacup, but her almond-shaped eyes precisely caught the fine lines that were slightly furrowed between her husband's brows.
Chen Hong's heart skipped a beat. She cursed the old bastard under her breath, but immediately adjusted her hand position.
She withdrew both hands, took the cup with her right hand, raised her wrist to eyebrow level, and lowered her head slightly.
He performed a standard, somewhat antique-style curtsy before accepting the teacup.
The entire set of movements was fluid and graceful, like a scene from a traditional opera that had been rehearsed countless times.
Director Chen finally relaxed his brow.
He smiled with satisfaction, extended his left hand, palm up,
He raised his head slightly, his tone carrying a touch of scholarly refinement, "Please, Madam."
"The tea leaves a lingering fragrance, Brother Ge, your tea-brewing skills are still as good as ever."
Chen Hong took a small sip and revealed a pure and adoring smile, like that of a young girl.
"Don't rush, let me appraise the others as well."
Director Chen calmly reached out and opened the exquisitely crafted tin tea canisters one by one.
When the lid was unscrewed, it made a very soft metallic scraping sound, and a rich aroma mixed with the fragrance of different teas wafted out of the mouth of the can.
He took an appropriate amount of tea leaves from each jar, put them into different teapots in turn, poured water, warmed the cups, rinsed the tea, and brewed it.
He did every step meticulously, and from time to time he explained to Chen Hong the origin, year, and harvesting season of each type of tea.
This put Chen Hong in a difficult position.
I woke up without eating anything; my stomach was empty, though I drank quite a bit of tea.
Fortunately, she is also a capable person. She has survived all these years, so she won't be much worse off in a little while.
Each cup is praised, and one has to rack their brains to come up with different idioms to describe the taste and aftertaste of the tea.
It cannot be repeated, it cannot get stuck, and it cannot be too cliché.
She felt that the amount of vocabulary she used this morning was probably enough to write a doctoral dissertation on Chinese tea culture.
"Honghong, which cup do you like best?"
Director Chen seemed to have gotten tired of brewing tea. He put the last teapot back on the tea tray, tapped his fingers lightly on the table twice, and looked up at her.
"Brother Ge, I like...this one."
Chen Hong pondered for a while in front of the teacups on the table, then solemnly ordered one of them, having long forgotten its taste.
"The soup is clear and bright, the taste is like orchids, and the leaves are like golden fish leaves—is this Mao Feng tea?"
Director Chen picked up the teacup she had chosen, his eyes suddenly lit up, and he then laughed heartily.
"What a coincidence! It seems to be fate. They brought this famous tea from our hometown just for this young man."
"Brother Ge, who's this kid you're talking about?"
Chen Hong was used to her husband's overreaction, and she asked with a hint of confusion.
"Gu Qing. I mentioned to you before that a handsome young man is coming to visit tonight."
Director Chen was clearly in a very good mood and patiently explained a couple of things, which was rare for him.
Subsequently,
He seemed to suddenly remember something important; his brows furrowed again, and his voice regained its unyielding authority.
"Have you informed Arthur? We have guests visiting tonight, and he'll be coming to keep us company. Don't be impolite."
"Brother Ge, why is Feiyu so rude? He's such a well-behaved and good kid, you should at least praise him, right?"
Seeing the old man habitually belittling his son again, Chen Hong suppressed her dissatisfaction.
"That Gu Qing, he doesn't seem to be that old, does he? He's only a few years older than Fei Yu. Is it worth Fei Yu making a special trip back to keep him company?"
"You're short-sighted! It's not your place to tell me how to raise my son!"
The smile on Director Chen's face vanished instantly. He snorted coldly, his face as black as a clay pot.
"I'm not going to explain to you—call Arthur back here!"
Director Chen knows his Arthur better than anyone else.
This child lacks natural talent and did not inherit his own exceptional talent as a director.
When Arthur was a child, he tried to show him the storyboard, but the boy fell asleep in less than ten minutes.
As a director, Arthur's talent is a gift from God, but he doesn't have it, so you can't blame him.
But Director Chen couldn't let his life's work—his connections, resources, and industry standing—go to waste. Fortunately,
Although Arthur lacked his talent, he still inherited some of his youthful good looks.
Becoming an artist in the entertainment industry wouldn't be a problem.
But as a father who had a son late in life, he couldn't protect his son for the rest of his life.
He knew better than anyone what the entertainment industry was like.
They fawn over the powerful and trample on the weak; once someone leaves, they're forgotten. Today you're the son of a famous director, surrounded by admirers; tomorrow, without your backing, you're nothing.
Otherwise, he wouldn't be thinking of switching to real estate at his age; he just wants to leave his family with more options.
Bringing Arthur back to keep him company is just Director Chen's way of finding a powerful backer for his son.
How could he not know Gu Qing's character?
A young person who can talk to you about Tang poetry, allusions, and Bai Juyi until late at night must be a gentleman!
He has lived for so many years and his judgment of people has never been wrong.
People who can resonate with him on a spiritual level are unlikely to be of bad character.
With Gu Qing looking after Arthur in the industry, Director Chen was naturally very relieved.
But now,
Seeing Chen Hong's puzzled expression, her brows furrowed slightly, her lips pursed gently, and her eyes moist with a hint of grievance for her son.
Director Chen was so angry that his face turned ashen, and he clenched his back teeth tightly in his cheeks.
But his inherently arrogant personality made him disdainful of explaining himself to a woman.
These profound plans, these painstaking efforts to pave the way for Arthur's future, these visions that can only be seen from a high enough vantage point.
What does a woman like her know?
Director Chen felt that no one in the world could understand his good intentions, and no one could see the profound vision he had.
This sense of loneliness made him both resentful and saddened; resentful that no one understood him, and saddened that he was too sophisticated for the masses.
The couple parted on bad terms.
Chen Hong turned and went back to her bedroom.
Director Chen sat alone at the sandalwood table filled with tea sets, and picked up the Mao Feng tea that Chen Hong had just ordered.
The tea soup has cooled down, and the tea leaves have sunk to the bottom.
He tilted his head back and drank the cup of cold tea in one gulp. The tea had lost its warmth as it slid down his throat, leaving only a slightly bitter aftertaste.
Director Chen looked up at the antique palace lantern on the ceiling and sighed deeply.
then,
He sat alone on the sofa, drinking tea as if it were wine, wallowing in self-pity and melancholy as he lamented the passing of autumn.
……
Before we knew it, evening had arrived.
Around six o'clock in the afternoon, the winter night in the capital was completely dark.
The alley was quiet.
Two large red lanterns cast a soft, warm light in front of the Chen residence, casting long shadows of the two stone lions on the blue brick ground.
Gu Qing arrived at the alleyway not far from Director Chen's house in her assistant's car.
He was still wearing the same moon-white lotus-patterned robe he wore yesterday when recording "The Voice".
Under the streetlights, he appeared tall and aloof.
The assistant followed behind, carrying the Four Treasures of the Study (writing brush, ink stick, inkstone, and paper) brought from Gu Qing's hometown.
Two stone lions? From *Dream of the Red Chamber*?
As soon as Gu Qing got out of the car, he saw the two imposing stone lions squatting on either side of the courtyard house. "They're quite clean, actually."
"Ta-da!"
The assistant stepped forward and gently knocked twice on the door with the door knocker.
Just as Gu Qing was wondering if a maid or servant in a mandarin jacket would appear when the door opened.
The vermilion gate was pulled open from the inside.
The woman who opened the door was beautiful, with a face as round as a silver plate.
It was Chen Hong.
When she heard the old scoundrel say, "Perhaps Gu Qing has arrived, go open the door," Chen Hong was still seething with anger from earlier that day.
But just as she opened the door,
When I saw the young figure in a moon-white dress standing in the glow of the red lanterns outside the door, the pent-up frustration that had been building up all day suddenly dissipated.
"Teacher Chen Hong, I apologize for disturbing you."
Gu Qing bowed slightly and gave her a polite, shy smile.
A clear, melodious voice drifted through the winter night air, like a thin shard of ice blown away by the wind—clean and refreshing.
Standing in the twilight, she resembled a blue lotus, a sight that soothed and delighted the soul.
Chen Hong was slightly taken aback.
Her hand was still on the doorknob, and the thin layer of anger in her eyes had unknowingly melted away completely.
A gentle, bright smile appeared on her elegant and dignified classical face, and her voice unconsciously softened.
"You must be Gu Qing? I've heard Brother Ge mention you often. Good boy, come in quickly."
She reached out and gently took Gu Qing's hand, leading him from outside the threshold into the house, her brows furrowing with heartache.
"It's freezing cold, don't catch a cold. Winters in the capital are not like those in the south, the wind is very strong."
She saw the gift her assistant handed her and couldn't help but chide her, "Why did you bring a gift to dinner? Why are you being so polite?"
"Teacher Chen Hong, when you come to visit, you can't come empty-handed."
Gu Qing was slightly stunned, her mind still racing: Who was the "brother" she had just mentioned?
But he showed no doubt on his face, maintaining the shy and polite demeanor he had when he first visited.
"Don't call me teacher, call me auntie."
"Teacher Chen Hong doesn't seem like an auntie at all."
Gu Qing said "honestly".
"Haha, you little rascal...you have such a sweet tongue."
Chen Hong was overjoyed and beamed with happiness.
The hand that had been lightly resting on Gu Qing's hand was now gripping it even tighter.
With her other hand, she gently patted the back of his hand, as if she were holding the hand of a long-lost junior, and she liked him very much no matter how she looked at him.
"Come on in, come inside with me. The housekeeper can take your things. It's cold outside, so don't stand at the door."
Upon entering the main hall, a warm breeze carrying the scents of sandalwood furniture, aged tea, and newly placed winter plum blossoms greets you.
Director Chen sat upright on a pearwood chair in the center of the living room.
He changed into the dark navy blue Chinese-style stand-up collar jacket he had chosen for today.
Seeing Gu Qing brought in by his wife, Director Chen slowly stood up from his chair, smiled faintly,
He announced in a loud voice, "Has my Mr. 'Letian' (Bai Juyi's pen name) arrived?"
"Brother Chen, it's been a long time."
Gu Qing was not fooled. He cooperated with Director Chen in cosplay, withdrew his hand, made a cross-hands gesture, and smiled back.
Director Chen's eyes widened slightly, initially startled by the address "Brother Chen," but upon closer inspection of Gu Qing's attire and the gesture of his hand,
His handsome and elegant appearance immediately revealed his consideration of using Bai Juyi's pen name, and he returned the gesture with a Tang Dynasty-style crossed-hands salute.
It's clear that Gu Qing has thoroughly understood the script.
"Hahaha—good, good, good!!"
Director Chen felt so refreshed that his pores stood on end, and he burst into hearty laughter, happily getting up.
He strode over in a few steps, pushed his wife aside, grabbed Gu Qing's arm, and pulled her forward, saying, "Little Gu, I didn't misjudge you!!"
Chen Hong: "..."
Is there anyone normal left in my family?
……
"Honghong, hurry up and serve the food!"
"Okay, Brother Ge."
Chen Hong forced a smile.
"Honghong? Brother?"
Gu Qing's eyelids twitched slightly, and an indescribable, strange feeling welled up in her heart.
Is Director Chen really this playful in private?
Director Chen first took his seat in the main seat, with chairs on either side of him.
After he sat down, he smiled slightly, raised his chin at Gu Qing, and said with a hint of testing in his tone, "Little Gu, let me test you again—which side was the most respected in the Tang Dynasty?"
"Director Chen, naturally it's the left side."
Gu Qing sighed inwardly, resigned to the situation, and had no choice but to continue playing this little game of asking and answering questions.
If Gu Qing hadn't been worried that Director Chen wouldn't be able to answer his question, she would have retorted with a sarcastic remark.
"Hahaha—sit, sit on my left!"
Director Chen laughed even more heartily and patted the chair to his left.
Gu Qing was about to burst out laughing, and forced herself to sit down.
He finally understood why the staff around Director Chen would later write a book in their memoirs to complain that going to work every day felt like "paying respects" to their boss.
quickly,
The nanny served the food to the table one by one.
Chen Hong naturally walked to the seat to Director Chen's right and sat down.
She sat in a demure and virtuous posture, with her head slightly lowered and her hands folded on her lap, without making a sound from beginning to end.
Gu Qing blinked, her gaze sweeping back and forth between Director Chen and Chen Hong twice, still a little confused.
What is this doing?
"Let's start eating."
Director Chen's gaze swept over Gu Qing, noticing the bewildered expression on his face.
They clearly thought the child was probably shocked by their family's strict family traditions.
Director Chen nodded in satisfaction, a faint, smug smile playing on his lips.
He was the first to pick up his chopsticks, his movements calm and dignified, like a general raising the command flag to send troops.
Chen Hong then picked up her chopsticks, her movements almost synchronized with Director Chen's, not a second too early, not a second too late, just right.
Gu Qing: "..."
He had only ever seen families with bad relationships, but never families who were not close.
This doesn't look like a couple; it's clearly a leader and her secretary.
What kind of life did Arthur lead in this family?
……
"Come on, take a look at this."
Director Chen suddenly stood up, leaned over, and lifted the lid of the stone pot. "Stuffed tofu in a stone pot."
Wow—it smells so good!
Chen Hong leaned forward slightly, glanced into the stone pot, and then praised it in a completely emotionless tone.
"..."
Gu Qing suddenly fell silent.
The chopsticks in his hand were suspended in mid-air, unsure whether to pick them up or put them down.
He was a little nervous.
"Come on, Brother Ge, I want to offer you the first bite."
Chen Hong stood up, bowed slightly, and reached her chopsticks towards the piece of tofu in the stone pot that was fried the most beautifully and had the most even color.
"Nonsense! The first bite should be given to the guest!"
Director Chen frowned sharply, his voice not loud but his tone extremely harsh, as if he were scolding a child who didn't know the rules.
"Yes."
Chen Hong lowered her eyes and turned her chopsticks around, gently placing the piece of tofu she had just picked up into Gu Qing's bowl.
When his gaze met Gu Qing's,
Her expression suddenly came alive, just as it had when she saw her outside the door.
With a slight upturn of her lips, her voice became gentle and kind, "Xiao Gu, try it and see if it suits your taste."
Gu Qing looked down at the golden tofu in the bowl.
She looked up again at Chen Hong, who had sat back down in her seat and was now wearing that standard, fake, gentle smile.
And Director Chen, sitting at the main table, smiling at him.
What the hell is this place?!
The thought had just exploded in my mind,
Gu Qing suddenly caught a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of her eye.
The side door to the living room opened silently a crack, and a boy who looked remarkably like Brother Qian tiptoed in from outside.
After walking behind Chen Hong, he stood still, his back pressed against the wall, his hands hanging neatly at his sides, motionless.
Even her breathing was very light, like a decoration placed in a corner.
Gu Qing subconsciously opened her mouth, wanting to remind Director Chen.
"Xiao Gu, please start eating."
Director Chen ignored him, as if he hadn't even seen his son come in.
He simply smiled and raised his chin at Gu Qing, his tone gentle.
Gu Qing: "..."
Is Arthur not even able to sit down?
……
...(End of this chapter)