The library was dark and empty when Zhan pulled open the door, light from the hall spilling into the room. There was something wrong. What was that on the sofa? He flicked on the light, revealing his Lowry had moved from the wall to the sofa in the...
Zhan frowned but couldn't think up a retort. Yibo was right, completely right. It was annoying, the smug look on his face, but also maybe quite attractive.... That thought caught Zhan off guard and he had to look away from Yibo as he gathered his thoughts.
"You are correct," he said at last and Yibo's smugness grew.
"Do you need anything whilst you measure?"
"I'm fine," Yibo shrugged, putting his bag down on the sofa and pulling out a laptop and a couple of small boxes Zhan couldn't identify.
"You can stick around if you want, it's not interesting to watch though, I can assure you."
Zhan felt the heat rise in his cheeks and stomach clench, which was weird, it wasn't as if Yibo was flirting with him!
"I'll leave you to it," he said calmly,
"call me if you need anything."
"Shall do," Yibo replied without looking up from his laptop.
Back in his library, Zhan allowed himself a deep sigh to clear his body of the tension. He shouldn't let Yibo's attitude rile him up! Heck, it'd be more irritating if he'd been simpering and sycophantic, desperate to secure the deal.
Yibo had been right, Zhan hadn't planned on using any other security company. It had come highly recommended by Zuo Cheng and Zhan wasn't about to dismiss his friend's word. Zuo Cheng didn't give out recommendations lightly.
He picked up his book and settled down in his seat. If he listened hard he could hear Yibo walking around the house. He tried not to listen, but once he started it was almost impossible to stop.
After half an hour of struggling to read, the door opened to reveal Yibo.
"I need to make a floor plan," he said, not looking at Zhan.
"Come in," Zhan replied, the hairs on the back of his neck rising at the trespass into his private sanctuary. It was necessary, especially as his favourite piece of his collection was in this very room.
He watched surreptitiously over the top of his book as Yibo wandered around the room, using a laser to measure the dimensions. There was something so watchable about Yibo.
Zhan couldn't figure out why: there was nothing special about his oversized clothes and he wasn't stunningly handsome.
He just had an effortless charisma to him. He mentally slapped himself and turned back to his book, looking up only when he heard Yibo hum.
"This one seems out of place in here," he said, motioning to a painting on the wall.
"How so?" Zhan asked, his eyes narrowing.
"All your other paintings are landscapes and then there's this...industrial town."
"It's still a landscape."
Yibo turned to look at it again, head cocked cutely,
"True. It's still a bit odd in this collection though."
Zhan got to his feet and joined Yibo in front of the painting—his favourite piece.
It showed an industrial Northern England town, factories belching smoke in the background and lines of terrace houses in the foreground. Between them, hundreds of tiny people crowded around a football pitch.
"It's looks very cold there," Yibo said.
"It's Lowry, right?"
"It is."
"You sure it's not a fake?" Yibo asked, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.
"I am." He had all the documents proving its provenance.
"Do you like it?"
Yibo hummed to himself,
"Yeah, I do. It's like, all those people live in this bleak place and this football match is the highlight of their week. It's kinda sad in a way, I guess, but also happy. I dunno, I'm not an art expert or anything."
Zhan nodded along with Yibo's analysis.
"With art, it's about what it makes you feel. I never think there are wrong feelings."
"So, why this piece? I'm sure you can see it's out of place with all your mountains and seascapes."
"It is," Zhan agreed.
"I was at an auction in the UK for a client and I saw this painting and bought it."
"That's how, not why."
Zhan looked back at the painting, considering it thoughtfully. Why had he spent several million on this painting? It had just leapt out at him and he'd been unable to leave the UK without it.
"I suppose I fell in love with it. Art does funny things to people."
Yibo laughed,
"It does. You should see some of the things I've had to set up to protect stuff. At least you have yours on display, I've worked for clients who have their collection locked up in vaults. I don't understand the point in owning the art if you're gonna hide it."
"I agree, although with The Little Ice Prince around you can't be too careful. People like me have spent millions on their collections."
"I know, but—" Yibo shrugged.
"I'm not an art person, but if I bought something I'd want it to be on my wall."
They stood together in silence, contemplating the painting. Zhan hadn't expected to be having such a conversation with Yibo—had almost expected him to dismiss art as frivolous—but he'd had some interesting opinions.
"I'll get back to work," Yibo said.
"I still have to map out at least half of this place."
He left, hours later, with Zhan's number safely stored in his phone.
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