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Chapter 145: 056 Traditional Calligraphers Association! Have a couple of drinks with Xiaochen_2

“Oh, I’m not going.”

“Ah,” Pu Xiaohan, knowing that Bai Lian had only been here for just over a month, explained to her, “But that’s Teacher Qiu from Beicheng, a member of the Beicheng Calligraphy Association. This time, I don’t know who managed to move this big mountain and actually got him to come back to Xiangcheng.”

Having said this, she looked at Bai Lian.

Bai Lian was still indifferent.

Pu Xiaohan, who was beside her, even heard Bai Lian whisper a word under her breath.

So cool.

Alright, Pu Xiaohan glanced again at Yang Lin, who was lagging a step behind them; Yang Lin definitely wouldn’t go either.

Next to No. 1 Middle School.

A black car was parked far across the street.

Jiang He was sitting in the backseat, resting his head against the window, looking far off in the direction of the school gate.

In front of him, Jiang Fulai slightly squinted his eyes as he browsed on the laptop screen, the chilling aura on his stern face growing heavier by the moment. Ming Dongheng was sitting in the driver’s seat, itching to get out of the car.

Yet, the phone in his pocket rang again.

Ming Dongheng didn’t dare glance at the rearview mirror and hurriedly picked up the phone—it was Jiang Xijue.

“What are you doing?” he asked cautiously as he got out of the car, lowering his voice, “Don’t you know that Young Master Jiang is looking at a document sent by the Gao Family?”

The Gao Family was an untouchable line that no one dared to cross for Jiang Fulai.

On the phone, Jiang Xijue didn’t care about the treatment Ming Dongheng was receiving, simply saying, “The invitation from the Traditional Calligraphers Association, hoping our ’emperor’ Jiang could provide a piece of writing. I’ve brought the message, just remember to find time to tell him.”

After finishing, Jiang Xijue, ignoring Ming Dongheng’s cursing, hung up the call directly.

His technique of passing the buck was incredibly smooth.

Ming Dongheng’s face darkened; if Jiang Xijue didn’t dare say it, did he dare to?

He fiddled with his phone, complaining in the group chat with four people—

[Is the Traditional Calligraphers Association mad?]

When have they ever seen Jiang Fulai practice calligraphy, yet they dare to bother him with this request?

Inside the car, with the knuckles of his pale fingers tapping lightly on the screen of his phone, Jiang Fulai glanced out the window and after considering for about five seconds, called Bai Lian.

“I’m about to come out,” Bai Lian’s voice sounded quite surprised.

Jiang Fulai was very nonchalant, “You go to the back gate. Jiang Xiaoniao’s autism is acting up; there are too many people at the front gate, we’ll wait for you at the back gate.”

Bai Lian was aware of Jiang He’s autism.

Without any doubt, she responded, “Okay.”

Sitting in the backseat, Jiang He:

The black business van slowly drove into No. 1 Middle School’s back gate. Jiang Fulai’s car was allocated by Jiangjing, but the license plate was that of Xiangcheng, making it inconspicuous for daily use.

At the school gate, sitting in the driver’s seat of a white car, Xu En looked at the black car.

He was slightly taken aback.

Ji Mulan was trying to call Bai Lian, but no one answered; she had some doubts whether Bai Lian had blocked her.

After speaking a few words to Xu En, she saw him staring blankly at something.

“What’s up?” Ji Mulan followed his gaze, but saw nothing special.

Xu En came back to himself and shook his head, “It’s nothing.”

But he couldn’t shake off the feeling, that car…

He had once seen a similar one from a great distance in Jiangjing, the entire body of the car was bulletproof. However, he never saw the person inside it, and he hadn’t expected to see a similar car in Xiangcheng as well.

At the back gate of the school.

Bai Lian had already arrived.

The season had turned to autumn, and she had her school uniform jacket pulled tight, with the sun already half-set, casting a reddish glow.

She stood by the roadside in her school uniform, cold and clear, holding her phone with fingers that were also pale and cold; her silhouette projected like a simple ink painting of early autumn.

Ming Dongheng quietly parked the car beside her.

The rear car door opened automatically.

Bai Lian stood still, looking at Jiang He propped up against the back of the seat, smiled, as if the silent figure in the painting had come to life.

“Why are you so weak?” she got into the car and pinched Jiang He’s face.

Jiang He pursed his lips and looked up.

Jiang Fulai cast a warning glance at Jiang He, his long fingertips tapping the laptop as if absent-mindedly.