America 1881: They Call Me Legend

Chapter 292 The Painter
"Is it reliable?" Chen Jianqiu asked.

He doesn't care too much about the fake technology, as long as it's not too outrageous,

The Pinkerton Detective Agency seems to be a little underfunded lately.

Even the production level of the genuine Pinkerton ID that Sean got was a bit appalling.

As long as it is about the same, you can basically pass the level.

"Reliable, he is not a person who likes to deal with the outside world, he is only obsessed with his own art." Huang Qingyun replied, "A few years ago, when I first came here, I used a drawer of steamed buns from Chinatown and exchanged them with him. An identity card that has not been exposed until now."

"Art? Are you talking about his fake achievements?" Chen Jianqiu pouted.

Strictly speaking, if the fake is good, it is indeed a kind of art.

Not soulless counterfeit finished products, but creative counterfeiting in the process.

Huang Qingyun shook his head: "You will know when you go."

"His job is actually a painter, at least that's what he said."

Chen Jianqiu took out his pocket watch and looked at it. It was almost eleven o'clock in the evening: "Then let's go early together tomorrow."

"No, he usually starts to move at this point." Huang Qingyun scratched his earlobe.

Midnight activity?Although it is true that counterfeiting is not something that can be done in broad daylight, it is a bit difficult at night in this age when electric lights are not yet popular, right?

After thinking about it, Chen Jianqiu decided to check the situation first.

"Go, let's go."

After Huang Qingyun changed his clothes, he led Chen Jianqiu out of the pier.

The fog outside was getting worse, and the visibility was very low. There were almost no pedestrians along the way, only the occasional bells of passing carriages.

"You said he has a weird temper, where is the weirdness?" Chen Jianqiu asked as he walked.

Huang Qingyun walked ahead, looking for the way through the fog, without turning back, but the voice came over: "He always does some unusual things."

"for example?"

"He used to buy alcohol with the dollars from his paintings, but was never discovered until he was caught in the police station two years ago."

"How was it discovered?"

"He got drunk and made a bet with another person in the tavern. He mocked the current US dollar design for being unaesthetic, then drew a picture in front of others, and exchanged it for another bottle of wine at the bar owner."

"Talent." Chen Jianqiu sighed.

They walked for a while in the fog-shrouded neighborhood before they came to the door of a dilapidated apartment.

The two entered the apartment.

The first floor of the apartment was pitch black, and the lantern in Huang Qingyun's hand was the only thing that glowed in the darkness.

The public corridors are extremely messy, with all kinds of sundries and garbage piled up.

The silence here is occasionally broken by a few mice scurrying around, declaring their sovereignty over this public area.

The two climbed a wooden staircase.

Chen Jianqiu's feet stepped on the stairs, making a creaking sound, giving people a feeling that if they stepped on the stairs with a little force, they would directly collapse the stairs.

When they came to the second floor, they finally saw light other than the lantern.

At the end of the passage, there is a glimmer of light.

It was a door, but the corner of the door was damaged so that it could not block the light from the inside of the room.

Chen Jianqiu could imagine that the broken door couldn't block the light, and if there was a strong wind, it wouldn't be able to block the wind either.

They came to the door.

Huang Qingyun stretched out his hand and knocked on the door: "Ni Ge! It's me, Lao Huang!"

There was a rustling sound from the door.

After a while, the door opened a crack, and a big eye appeared in the crack of the door.

That eye rolled around, scanning the situation outside the door.

Chen Jianqiu frowned.

Could it really be a neuropathy?
"I, Huang Qingyun, open the door quickly!" Huang Qingyun raised the lantern and pressed his face to the crack of the door.

The door opened.

Chen Jianqiu's image of the disheveled, slipper-wearing, grinning neurotic artist in his imagination did not appear.

A well-dressed white-haired old man appeared in front of him.

He was wearing a black suit and tie, and his white hair was combed back neatly.

"Come in, both of you."

He politely brought the two of them in.

The room is not big, but it is a luxury to light four or five candles at the same time, illuminating the room very brightly.

There is a bed and a table near the window, and some tools, brushes, and papers are neatly placed on the table.

There was also a glass goblet on the table, which contained a small half cup of red liquid. Chen Jianqiu guessed that it was probably red wine.

From the appearance and behavior of this man, he looked like a high-class person, but he lived in this dirty and small apartment, which seemed out of place with his living environment.

The huge contrast is incredible.

"Wait a minute, guys, I'm doing the best work of my life."

After Ni Ge led the two people in, he ignored them and walked towards the easel beside the table.

Above is a work that is almost finished.

Huang Qingyun was about to say something, but was stopped by Chen Jianqiu raising his hand.

"Respect the artist," he said softly.

Ni Ge seemed to be completely immersed in his work, while Chen Jianqiu began to look at the painting,

He doesn't have much research on art, but when he was with Astor some time ago, this rich young man in New York taught him a lot.

The picture on the shelf is really average, both in terms of composition and creativity, just like the ones piled up on the right-hand wall.

Chen Jianqiu couldn't bear to look at it any longer, so he turned his eyes to another pile of paintings on the left wall.

In this room, except for the bed and the table, everything else is painted.

And these words surprised him.

These paintings are not at the same level as the ones just now, with deep brushwork and exquisite craftsmanship.

"Okay, it's done." Ni Ge finally finished his "masterpiece". He picked up the wine glass on the table and took a sip.

"What do you think? Old Huang?" He seemed very satisfied with his work, and asked Huang Qingyun beside him.

Huang Qingyun froze for a moment, then nodded again and again: "Okay!"

Chen Jianqiu finally understood why the painter had such a good relationship with Huang Qingyun.

The artist put away the painting with satisfaction and put it in the pile of paintings on the right.

"By the way, what do you want from me?" He turned to Chen Jianqiu and Huang Qingyun.

"My Chinese friend, I want you to copy a certificate for me." Huang Qingyun said to him honestly.

Ni Ge shook his head: "I don't draw false evidence anymore. Since I was arrested by the San Francisco Police Department last time, I have learned from the painful experience and want to be a law-abiding citizen."

"But..." Huang Qingyun wanted to say something, but was interrupted by Ni Ge.

"I decided to continue my own art, although they are not understood by the world now." He pointed to the proud works on the right wall, "This is also the reason why I have been poor."

"And these are all rubbish!" He pointed to the copied paintings on the left.

"Well said!" Chen Jianqiu clapped his hands suddenly, pointing to the original works of the artist on the right, "I admire these paintings very much, they are very artistic."

He took out a stack of banknotes from his pocket: "I am willing to buy two of them first!"

The painter was stunned, but when he touched the real banknote, he became excited instantly: "Sir, you are a person who really understands art! What can I do for you?"

Chen Jianqiu took out the Pinkerton ID: "I need several similar to this one."

The painter looked hesitant.

Chen Jianqiu took out some banknotes: "I suddenly remembered that I have a good friend who loves art, so I decided to buy another one for him."

The painter took the money and Pinkerton's ID from Chen Jianqiu's hand.

Chen Jianqiu smiled: "Then I'll get it tomorrow morning?"

"No, you guys wait for me at the door." The painter moved the candle to the table and began to rummage through the tools in the drawer of the table.

Chen Jianqiu and Huang Qingyun walked out of the room together.

"Young master, didn't he say that he was going to change his past? And he looked so disgusted with fraud, why did he agree so quickly?" Huang Qingyun was a little puzzled.

"It's true to love art, and it's also true to be stared at by the police not to sell fake paintings after release. It's even more true to save face. This person is a combination of contradictions." Chen Jianqiu said with his hands behind his back.

"But no matter what, he still wants to eat."

After a while, the door behind them was opened again, and the artist walked out with the three paintings and the fabricated fake certificate.

Chen Jianqiu handed the painting to Huang Qingyun, and checked the fake certificates himself.

Exactly the same, real ones.

"What's your name?" Chen Jianqiu raised his head and asked.

"Emmanuel Nigo, sir," replied the painter.

"Do you want to continue creating art without worrying about your stomach?" Chen Jianqiu continued to ask, "I am willing to buy all your paintings."

Before the painter could answer, Chen Jianqiu had already walked down the stairs: "Think about it carefully, I will come back to you in a few days, when the time comes, if you want, just follow me."

After speaking, he and Huang Qingyun disappeared into the night.

(End of this chapter)