My Possessive CEO: Trembling in His Arms-Chapter 155: How Soon Do You Want Me to Get Married?
Marriage partner?
Renee Winslow’s mind buzzed, freezing her on the spot.
She had considered that Jack Yates might have a marriage partner, just never expected Jack to say it so openly right in front of her.
How was she supposed to respond?
Unable to reply, she could only remain silent.
Looking at Jack Yates again, his expression was very calm, as if casually saying "The weather’s nice today."
It was Renee Winslow who was anything but calm.
However, once Jack finished speaking, he didn’t say more, and Renee didn’t know what to say either.
Forcing down her complex emotions, Renee silently followed Jack Yates into the courtyard, greeted by a sea of flowers.
Red, white, yellow, green, chrysanthemums of various colors vying for attention, pot after pot, arranged in the fresh and elegant courtyard, fragrant throughout the garden.
Amidst the colorful chrysanthemums, many calligraphy and paintings were placed, William Warren’s Preface to the Orchid Pavilion, Gordon Holloway’s The Mountain Hermitage Scroll, Tobias Thatcher’s Dusk and Solitary Wild Goose, and some unknown artworks, including blue-and-green landscapes and ink-and-wash landscapes.
Many celebrities were gathered in the courtyard, including collectors of antiquities and calligraphy enthusiasts, generally older in age.
In groups of three to five, they stood together talking and laughing.
"Elder Gable, your cursive script has progressed again. At this rate, within two years you’ll surpass ’The Wild Cursive Masters’."
The Wild Cursive Masters refer to the Tang Dynasty’s great cursive script artists, Spencer Sterling and Silas, renowned for their wild cursive, elevating Tang Dynasty cursive art to its peak.
The elder known as "Elder Gable" waved his hand with a laugh: "Oh oh oh, I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Lowell, you overpraise me. I’m just a retired old man, writing as a hobby, how can I compare with you true masters?"
Another person stepped up to flatter: "Elder Gable is too modest. Your calligraphy skills are not only profound, your painting is also astonishingly brilliant, exquisite in every way."
Elder Gable pointed a finger: "You all stop giving me high hats, don’t think..."
Before finishing his words, Elder Gable saw Jack Yates and immediately greeted with a smile: "Mr. Yates."
Jack Yates nodded lightly, replying, "Elder Gable."
A graceful girl walked in, holding Elder Gable’s arm, smiling and calling: "Grandpa."
Elder Gable tapped the girl’s forehead: "You, I bet you’re here not really for Grandpa, but for the people here."
The girl rarely showed a daughterly demeanor: "Grandpa, don’t say that. Mom asked me to accompany you and bring you home after you toured around."
Renee Winslow quietly moved a few steps to the side, distancing herself from Jack Yates.
Jack Yates immediately frowned, his brows lowered, as if suppressing a storm.
At this moment, a middle-aged man in a white jacket walked out from inside the hall.
The man, with a gentle presence, said with a smile: "Dear experts, don’t stay in the courtyard, please enter inside."
This was the host of the antiquities exhibition, Howard Sheridan, The Fifth Master.
Howard Sheridan walked up to Jack Yates, raised his hand and patted his shoulder: "Enjoy yourself, brother, I won’t accompany you. If you fancy anything, just let the staff know."
Having said that, The Fifth Master’s gaze lingered for a moment on Renee Winslow, nodding with a smile.
Renee Winslow smiled faintly in response.
Next, Howard Sheridan led everyone to the main hall for the showcased antiquities.
Jack Yates took Renee Winslow’s hand and went to a room in the backyard, which housed many glass cabinets, filled with relics from various dynasties, like blue-and-white porcelain plates, sky-blue silver-inlaid Ru kiln bowls, jade plates from the Golden Dynasty, and gold-decorated bowls.
Renee Winslow peered at the glass for a few moments, turned her head and asked Jack Yates: "Are these real, or are they crafts?"
Jack Yates’ mouth turned up slightly: "What do you think?"
Renee Winslow: "I can’t tell."
She knew nothing about antiques, totally unable to tell the real from the fake.
Jack Yates raised an eyebrow: "Would I bring you to see crafts?"
After viewing the real antiques there, Jack Yates led Renee Winslow by the hand to the porch in the backyard.
Jack Yates sat on the red lacquered bench, tapping his leg: "Sit."
Renee Winslow did not sit on his leg, but across from him.
Under the autumn light, Jack Yates’ sharp-lined face seemed to have softened somewhat, no longer as fiercely cold and hard.
Their eyes met, but ultimately Renee Winslow couldn’t hold back, and asked: "What did you mean by what you said earlier?"
Jack Yates’ hands rested on his thighs, leaning closer, his gaze fixed on her: "Which words?"
Renee Winslow pressed her lips together: "About the girl I mistakenly thought was your friend, you said she was your marriage partner."
Jack Yates raised his hand to her face: "No other meaning, just didn’t want to hide it from you."
"So, you, with her..." Renee Winslow swallowed her dry throat, found it difficult to say it, "When roughly are you getting married?"
Jack Yates’ gaze darkened, like a bottomless deep pool.
After a moment’s stare, the corner of his mouth suddenly lifted, smile cold: "How soon do you want me to get married?"
