"Qiu Tong, you're too kind. This gift is far too valuable for an old woman like me," the elderly lady said, her smile warm but tinged with hesitation.
Lin Qiu Tong's gentle smile radiated sincerity. "Madam, seeing your happiness makes every bit of effort worthwhile."
Her gift was extraordinary—so impressive that it cast a shadow over the other presents, leaving the remaining guests momentarily speechless.
Song Qi Nian felt the weight of expectations pressing down on her. She knew Master Xiang Di's work intimately, having once been bold enough to attempt reproducing his paintings. Yet she understood the fundamental truth artists know: mimicking form is simple, but capturing a work's soul is nearly impossible.
Lin Qiu Tong had managed something truly remarkable—securing an authentic Master Xiang Di painting. But Song Qi Nian saw beneath the surface. While others might marvel, she recognized the calculated precision behind the gift.
Shen Zhengming's third daughter, Shen Huanling, turned to Song Qi Nian with a calculated smile. "Sister-in-law, everyone else has presented their gifts. What about yours?"
Suddenly, all eyes converged on Song Qi Nian.
Shen Ke Qin leaned close, her whisper barely audible. "Didn't you say you prepared something for Grandma?"
Song Qi Nian nodded. Her gift might seem modest compared to the lavish offerings, but it represented hours of careful consideration and personal dedication.
A subtle signal to Zhang Qiaoqiao, and the gift was brought forward—draped in a rich red velvet cloth embroidered with elegant characters reading "Longevity and Crane." Its shape hinted at a painting, its presentation deliberate and measured.
Lin Lanxing's voice dripped with barely concealed mockery. "Another painting, Miss Song?"
Shen Huanling's follow-up was quick and pointed. "Which famous artist did you commission?"
The two women's comments hung in the air, a calculated attempt to heighten the moment's tension.
Shen Ke Qin's response was immediate—a cold glare that silenced Shen Huanling, pulling her aside with a sharp intensity.
"What are you doing?" Shen Ke Qin demanded.
Shen Huanling's shrug was casual, her curiosity barely concealed. "Just interested in Sister-in-law's gift. Aren't you?"
"You're not curious—you're trying to humiliate her in front of everyone!" Shen Ke Qin's voice was sharp, protective.
Shen Huanling yanked her arm away, her facade crumbling. "What has that mute ever done to deserve your defense?"
"You—"
Before Shen Ke Qin could finish, Zhang Qiaoqiao pulled back the red velvet cloth. A portrait of the old lady emerged, and the room fell silent.
Murmurs of appreciation rippled through the crowd.
"Incredible detail!"
"Look at those wrinkles—it's like looking in a mirror."
"Who could have painted this?"
Zhang Qiaoqiao stepped forward, radiating pride. "Our Young Madam spent over a month creating this portrait herself."
Song Qi Nian approached the old lady, her hands moving in graceful sign language. [Grandma, happy birthday. May your life stretch as endlessly as the sky, as bright as the sun and moon.]
A collective gasp swept the room. Shen Chi Yan's secret marriage was shocking enough, but his wife being mute? That was unexpected.
The old lady's face lit up. "Come here, my dear!"
Song Qi Nian moved closer. The old woman clasped her hand, tears of joy glistening in her eyes. "This painting—it's beautiful. You've captured something special."
Song Qi Nian's hands signed her response: [You're far more beautiful than any portrait could show. My skills are nothing compared to your true elegance.]
"Such a charmer," the old lady chuckled, glancing at Xue Ruoxue. "Isn't she something?"
Xue Ruoxue nodded. "Talented and sweet."
The Lin sisters' expressions soured. Lin Qiu Tong, who had presented a multi-million-dollar painting, watched as the old lady had merely glanced at her gift before turning her full attention to Song Qi Nian's heartfelt portrait.
Lin Lanxing's eyes glinted as she saw her sister's face drain of color. "Nian Nian, we've known each other for years. How did I never hear about your painting skills?"
Exchanging a calculated look with Shen Huanling, she pressed her attack. Shen Huanling chimed in, "Sister-in-law, you didn't hire someone to paint this and pass it off as your own, did you?"
The room went silent.
Ju Honglan immediately intervened, pulling Shen Huanling aside. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm just worried Grandma might be deceived!" Shen Huanling's protest rang hollow—a transparent attempt to humiliate Song Qi Nian in front of everyone.
Whispers of doubt began to circulate. Lin Lanxing, sensing blood in the water, offered a seemingly reasonable suggestion. "Let's clear this up. Miss Song, why don't you draw something for me right now?"
Shen Huanling knew Song Qi Nian couldn't possibly recreate such a masterpiece. If she refused or failed, it would be a public embarrassment for both her and the old lady.
Before anyone could object, Song Qi Nian turned to her grandmother and signed, [Grandma, since Miss Lin has kindly invited me to draw, may I?]
A flicker of triumph crossed Lin Lanxing's eyes. Song Qi Nian was walking right into her trap.
Staff quickly brought out paper and brush. Zhang Qiaoqiao handed it to Song Qi Nian, whispering nervously, "Young Madam, your hand..."
Song Qi Nian's reassuring smile spoke volumes. This was her first time holding a brush since her injury. The earlier portrait—a labor of love completed during Shen Chi Yan's frequent absences—had been prepared specifically for today's celebration.
Lucky I planned ahead, she thought. With my current condition, a detailed painting would be impossible.
She glanced up at Lin Lanxing, offering a slight smile that made Lin Lanxing's confidence waver.
"Let's make this interesting!" Lin Lanxing called to the crowd. "Wouldn't everyone love to see how a masterpiece comes to life?"
The guests cheered. Moments later, Song Qi Nian's painting process was projected onto the central screen.
Completely unfazed, she began to paint.
As she worked, Shen Chi Yan suddenly winced. A knife-sharp pain sliced through his head, leaving him momentarily breathless.
Shen Liubai caught his arm. "Ayan, what's wrong?"
Shen Chi Yan shook his head, his intense gaze never leaving Song Qi Nian.
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