Pei Hang took the tickets, tossed out a quick "Thanks," and led Qin Buran inside.
The Voice of Famous Paintings told the story of an Italian painter.
In the past, Pei Hang would certainly have had little interest in this play.
But things were different now. Qin Buran liked it.
He had even done a little research before coming. Though he was still a layman, at least he wasn't completely clueless.
Qin Buran watched intently, clearly absorbed in the play.
The play ran for three hours, with a half-hour intermission.
It gave both the audience and the actors onstage a chance to rest.
Throughout the thirty-minute intermission, Qin Buran seemed lost in thought, his eyes shining.
Pei Hang leaned closer and asked softly, "What are you thinking about?"
Qin Buran turned to look at him. He seemed less resistant to Pei Hang now; when Pei Hang drew close, his first instinct was no longer to pull away.
"Nothing much." Qin Buran smiled and shook his head.
Pei Hang smiled back at him. "Can't you tell me?"
"I can. I just thought you might not be very interested."
"How do you know I'm not interested if you don't tell me?" Pei Hang said.
"Mm..." Qin Buran paused, then said quietly, "My mentor suggested I hold an exhibition a long time ago, but I turned him down."
"He brought it up again recently."
Pei Hang nodded. "And?"
Pei Hang remembered that exhibition.
It was the exhibition Qin Buran had killed himself before finishing the paintings for in their previous life.
But last time, Pei Hang had encouraged Qin Buran to hold it, and it had been delayed for a long time. It hadn't come up this early.
Now that Qin Buran was bringing it up himself, did that mean he had overcome