BLINDED BY LOVE

REUNION

The hardest to forget are always the ones we’ve let down.”

In a mansion in New York, Sailub sat by the fireplace reading a book when he suddenly heard his mentor murmuring this sentence softly.

He raised his head only to realize that his mentor was repeating lines from the television.

It was winter now.

Outside the window, snowflakes were falling gently. Tony Chen, as an internationally renowned artist, still maintained his youthful demeanor even at nearly seventy.

Although his hair was gray and his face was thin, he looked impeccable. He sat in a camel-colored soft cardigan on a rocking chair, showing no signs of aging.

Sailub closed the book and glanced at the TV for a few seconds before asking his mentor with a hint of amusement, “Are you reminded of a past lover?”

Tony turned his head to look at his prized disciple and shrugged.
“No,” he said unabashedly. “I’ve wronged too many people. Now that I’m old, I can’t remember them all. Although I resist aging, sometimes I think, I’m already in my seventies, and when I look back on the past few decades of my life, I have no regrets.”

Sailub smiled lightly.

As Tony’s closed-door disciple, he naturally knew about his mentor’s string of romantic affairs..

To be honest, as a student, he received meticulous guidance from Tony in painting, but their views on love were completely different.

But that didn’t stop him from respecting Tony.
He stood up, adjusted the blanket on Tony’s legs, poured him a glass of hot milk, and then sat back down by the fireplace.

The flickering flames danced on his face, casting a warm orange-gold color on his pale and thin face, tinting his features with a hint of warmth.

It should have been a cozy scene, but he remained as cold and silent as the snow outside, not fitting into the warmth of the moment.

Tony took a slow sip of hot milk and stared at Sailub for a while..

This student was personally selected by him and naturally excelled in everything. His artistic talent even surprised him, and in just three years since joining him, he had grown rapidly.

But Sailub was good at everything, except that he lacked a spark.

Despite his young age, he was as indifferent as a monk, his lines on paper were suppressed, yet within that suppression, there was a hint of madness, like a light unable to find an exit, only sinking into the ground.

Tony glanced at Sailub and suddenly said, “Stop reading. Come and chat with your mentor.”

Sailub closed the book patiently and asked, “About what?”

Tony leaned back in his armchair, his eyes still sharp despite his advancing age.

He spoke casually, as if having a heart-to-heart conversation. “Have you ever been in love?”

He looked at his young student, who was completely different from when he had first met him.

Steady, composed, and elegant.

No one could tell that he had once been a wild street kid.

But he was also unchanged.

Tall, handsome, with broad shoulders and narrow waist, his fingers had calluses from a rough life.

Even wrapped in a soft cashmere coat sitting by the window, he still resembled a long knife hidden in its sheath.

Snow white, sharp, and devoid of sentimentality.
Locked away by a heavy lock, burying all his emotions deep inside.