The Contract Wife Tries to Leave - Chapter 129
Wouldn’t it be impossible to push through that crowd…? Johanna, having quickly given up, was about to persuade Kiara to retreat when Kiara suddenly raised her hand high and shouted loudly,
“Jeremih! It’s me!”
“…?!”
In this unexpected situation, Johanna’s eyes widened in shock. In an instant, all eyes turned toward them. The gathered fans began to murmur among themselves, asking, “Who’s that?” and “Is she an acquaintance of the artist?”
Kiara cleared her throat with an air of seriousness, then started pushing her way through the crowd, saying,
“Excuse me, I’ll just pass through. Yes, yes, I know him.”
…Could she really know him? Johanna followed closely behind Kiara, feeling increasingly anxious, wondering if this was all some kind of bluff. But no matter how reckless Kiara seemed, she didn’t seem like the type to cause trouble without a plan… or at least Johanna wanted to believe that.
Finally, Kiara and Johanna reached the artist, Jeremih Baselitz.
As the rumors said, he wore a half-mask, so his face couldn’t be seen, but his striking golden hair and piercing blue eyes, as vivid as pure sapphire, left a deep impression.
Johanna suddenly remembered that she had met someone else with such striking features before. Karl Babenhausen, the second son of the Marquis of Babenhausen… He too was an incredibly beautiful man, with hair like spun gold and eyes that shone like blue sapphires.
“Jeremih, let’s talk privately for a moment,” Kiara said.
“…”
Kiara tapped his shoulder lightly as she spoke, and Jeremih Baselitz looked at her in silence. No, it was more accurate to say he glared at her. Though his mask made it difficult to read his expression, the sharp, menacing look in his eyes was unmistakable.
When Jeremih Baselitz glanced briefly at Johanna, there was a fleeting flicker of recognition in his eyes—or at least it seemed that way, but it happened so quickly that Johanna wasn’t sure if she had imagined it.
He sighed heavily, clearly annoyed, before standing up.
After apologizing to his followers, he motioned for Kiara and Johanna to follow him. Johanna tilted her head slightly, feeling a strange sense of familiarity in his voice.
Could he be someone she knew…? No, that couldn’t be.
“Why are you causing such a fuss?”
After walking for a while, as soon as they stepped into a quiet, deserted hallway, his cold voice cut through the air, making Johanna flinch. She had been lost in thought, but his words startled her into looking up. She had dismissed what she heard earlier, thinking the noise had distorted it, but now…
“My sister-in-law’s a fan of yours. You know the Marchioness of Neubitz, right?”
“…”
Johanna found herself staring intently into the blue eyes behind the mask. …Could it really be him? But even if it was, the polite thing to do would be to pretend not to know. Wearing a mask and using a pseudonym meant he wanted to keep his identity hidden…
“Do you really like my work?”
Jeremih Baselitz’s voice broke through Johanna’s whirlwind of thoughts. His question carried an underlying warning, as if he wouldn’t tolerate false interest just because of his fame. Worried that her hesitation might upset him further, Johanna quickly nodded.
“Yes, I really love it. I first saw your work when I was seventeen…”
At Johanna’s words, Jeremih Baselitz’s eyes softened ever so slightly. However, it was clear that he hadn’t completely let go of his doubts, so Johanna quickly elaborated on the piece she saw when she was seventeen.
“‘Sunset at Nisis Beach.’ The way the sunset colors filled the sky and sea was incredibly beautiful.”
“…”
The truth was, part of the reason Johanna loved that painting so much was because the hues of the sunset reminded her of Leonid’s eye color.
Of course, she genuinely liked the painting itself too. Jeremih Baselitz’s landscapes had always comforted her in difficult times.
Back then, the painting had been on display in a public library that anyone could visit freely, and Johanna used to go there every day, spending thirty minutes gazing at it.
Some critics had said that his works carried a special atmosphere that soothed the fundamental loneliness of humanity. Johanna wholeheartedly agreed with that assessment. When her heart had grown so dark that no one’s comfort could reach it, she had found solace in Jeremih Baselitz’s paintings.
Sometimes, she thought, that might be the true role of art—to touch people’s hearts purely, without the need for grand interpretations.
In that moment, she was reminded of how she had once dreamed of creating such paintings herself.
“And… when I looked at your paintings, they comforted me when I was going through hard times. That’s why I grew to love them even more…”
“…”
Jeremih Baselitz continued to gaze at Johanna in silence. Was it just her imagination, or was there a warmth in his eyes? Unsure of his reaction, Johanna offered a tentative smile.
After a brief silence, Jeremih Baselitz finally spoke.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Huh? Well, I…,” Johanna stammered, caught off guard.
In that moment, Johanna knew she should have answered that she didn’t know, but she hesitated, stumbling over her words. It was as good as admitting she suspected his true identity.
Jeremih Baselitz seemed to see right through her, and with a faint smile, he suddenly removed his mask.
