Almighty painter

Chapter 600: Mr. Cao’s Thoughts

June is the most pleasant month in Germany.

It is less damp and cold than the high-latitude areas of Europe in spring where the average temperature is less than 10 degrees Celsius, and more sunny and comfortable, but the weather has not really gotten hot yet.

A pigeon with a white head and neck and brown tail feathers landed between the eaves of the garden.

This native German bird, whose scientific name is Saxony swallow-pigeon, is probably rarely seen in such a traditional Chinese courtyard.

Its green eyes moved around, and it lowered its head, pecking at something between the tiles.

Bang!
The door of the room below opened, and Old Yang strolled out from Old Cao's study and stood under the eaves.

He just stayed in the study for a short while.

My mind was in a state of ups and downs and a little sweat appeared on my forehead.

He wiped his forehead, unzipped the top of his leather jacket, pulled out the collar of his floral shirt, and shoved his sunglasses into his pocket.

Facing the window, I changed my temperament in my mind from the evil and crazy lead singer of a band to a cool and unrestrained middle-aged cowboy.

“Personal image is very important!”

Lao Yang said to himself in his heart.

He took out the travel-sized hair wax from his pocket and applied it twice more.

He then patted his belly, picked up the take-out lunch bag hanging on the window sill, and walked towards his office in the side wing of the Su-style garden with a gait that showed no regard for his relatives.

It was as if what he was holding in his hand was not a Thuringian black sausage, but the secret edict of Emperor Kangxi written "pass the throne to the fourth son" which Longkodo was holding and was to be hidden behind the "Zhengda Guangming" plaque in the Qianqing Palace.

Awesome!

"Do you know how awesome I am now?"

Old Yang looked at the gardener with a blond crew cut pushing a lawn mower in the distance and curled his lips.

Ah.

Still pushing.

Just now, right here, something big is going to happen in the art world, you know? You don’t know, Brother Yang won’t tell you, just push the lawn mower there!
Old Yang is excited.

"If he wins the prize, he is my disciple. If he doesn't win the prize, he is still my disciple." - Mr. Cao made such a secret decision and did not tell anyone in advance.

He didn't tell Lin Tao, didn't tell Tang Ning, and didn't inform Zhou Ming or Liu Ziming's disciples.

But he told Lao Yang.

What does this represent?
It represents his grandmother's trust.

Such great news that shocked the world. If Old Yang could take out his mobile phone and send a tweet right now, or even just post it on WeChat Moments.

Slip this news through your fingers.

Such a pretentious act.

Those who click the like button can hold hands and circle the burger three times.

Gagosian, PACE, Emmanuelle Perrotin, these art tycoons, like sharks smelling blood, all swam over with their noses raised and lined up to give him a thumbs up.

Even Miss Elena had to fly over from Austria to interview him.

Hey, uncle, have you ever seen a giant shark that can open its bloody mouth and give people a thumbs up?
Lao Yang pouted at the gardener and thought to himself, if I want, Lao Yang can let you broaden your horizons today.

On the distant lawn.

The gardener who was working felt someone was looking at him, so he turned around and saw a greasy middle-aged man pouting at him.

He suddenly felt a chill.

He turned off the lawn mower, lowered his head, and ran away.

"Ugh."

Old Yang looked at the gardener's back, as he suddenly walked away with his buttocks tucked under his tummy for some unknown reason, and felt a sense of regret that was hard to conceal.

It’s a pity that I can’t pretend!

There is a shocking piece of news at the tip of my tongue, but I cannot share it with anyone else and I have to keep it to myself.

This feeling is really uncomfortable for a veteran show-off enthusiast like Lao Yang.

It feels like there's an itch in my heart that I can't scratch.

I guess Mr. Cao would not let anyone tell this news until the day the Singapore Art Exhibition officially opens.

It will itch for more than a month!

I don't know how Ms. Tang Ning would feel if she knew the old man's comments today.

Thinking of Tang Ning.

Old Yang's heart moved slightly.

Having followed Cao Xuan for so long, he had never seen the old man so angry as he was today.

The teacups were knocked over.

It looked like the old man was so angry and so... disappointed?
Although Lao Yang was unable to hear what Miss Elena told Gu Weijing on the phone - the "family education theory" that anger is the most powerless disappointment in life.

However, Old Yang is very good at observing people's words and expressions.

He was still keenly aware of the emotions that the old man poured out at that moment.

that moment.

This energetic old man showed unprecedented sadness and - unprecedented oldness.

Artistic creation often goes to two extremes.

Otherwise, the abundant emotions in their pens will drain their vitality.

Otherwise, the stories portrayed by their pens gave them strength and enriched their lives.

Art has become the biggest bright spot in life.

therefore.

Artists themselves are also often at opposite ends of the spectrum.

Either they die suddenly and prematurely, or they have a very long creative life.

Time seems to be especially gentle to some people.

It’s not that they won’t age.

The changes of time will be accurately reflected in everyone.

Deep nasolabial folds will appear on the wings of their noses, their elastic skin will gradually be replaced by wrinkles, they will grow white hair, become bald like ordinary people, and lose their hair.

Even teeth may fall out.

But their hearts will not wither with their bodies.

They are still energetic, still full of vitality, and still more vibrant than many people who are half their age.

When Picasso's hair was full of silver, he was still jealous of others. The year he met his second wife, 27-year-old Jacqueline, Picasso had just celebrated his 73rd birthday.

There are actresses on Broadway who are still performing Romeo and Juliet at the age of fifty.

This is not the kind of Juliet that makes people feel nostalgic and pity, but the Juliet who has real physical tension and can easily make the audience fall in love with her. In her every move, she still exudes the figure and charm of a young girl.

One third of the great artists known to the public died before the age of forty.

There is another one-third whose personal and artistic lives are extremely long.

In terms of age, Cao Xuan is not outstanding among the crowd.

The Berlin Ballet's historical record is that the 102-year-old ballet consultant is still alive and can still do pointe rotations at the age of 97.

Bazille lived to be 29, Masaccio to be 27, and Toulouse-Lautrec to have died of syphilis at the age of 37.

But Picasso, Monet, Pissarro, Degas, Renoir, Qi Baishi, Liu Haisu... these people are all old gentlemen who can still maintain their creative state when they are in their seventies, eighties or even nineties.

They have a powerful control over life and have mastered the spell to command time.

Just like a conductor conducting the melody of a violin, you can allow your life to stretch infinitely in the direction of your will.

Old Yang has become accustomed to the fact that Old Cao is an omnipotent elder, an old gentleman who is full of wisdom and insight into the world.

These symbols have replaced the image of Mr. Cao himself as an old man.

But at that moment.

When the symbols faded and the flowing notes of the violin revealed an uncontrolled vibrato.

When he showed anger, disappointment and powerlessness.

Old Yang finally realized that the other person was already an old man who was almost a hundred years old. Think about it carefully.

Is the old man really angry with him?

exactly--

Were those words just what Cao Xuan said to teach him a lesson?
Lao Yang is clear about his position.

The art circle is full of intrigue, and he believed that Mr. Cao knew what kind of person he was.

Don’t say anything else.

Where there is expectation, there is disappointment.

Old Yang himself felt that his 190 pounds of flesh were not worth the old man's anger.

Under normal circumstances, Mr. Cao probably, approximately, should, could, place the hope of passing on the legacy of painting, inheriting the art, and making the literary stars shine on him... the possibility wouldn't be too great, right?

If so.

Although Lao Yang felt that he could die of beauty.

But Lao Yang also felt that the future of this painting sect was doomed.

It’s impossible for his disciples to change to telling dirty jokes and join the crossover comedy circle, right?

[Don't bother with these unpresentable twists and turns, you have no future! I'm not dead yet, wait until I'm buried in the coffin, and it won't be too late for you people to run around and stir up trouble! ]

[At the art exhibition, when it comes to competing for fame and fortune, no one helps each other. Instead, everyone is full of evil intentions. If I step on you and you fall down, you will definitely grab my trouser legs and drag me down to become an accomplice. It's a mess when everyone is fighting against each other! ]

[Okay, I'm not just angry at you. I've explained the truth over and over again, why don't you listen?]

you?

Intuition started ringing little bells in Lao Yang's stomach again.

"Hey, what happened? This - it turns out that I wasn't the one being scolded."

Old Yang licked the corner of his mouth with a very complicated expression.

The bad news is that the old man is angry, very angry.

The good news is that he may not be the one being scolded.

At least.

It's not just Lao Yang.

Old Yang thought again of Cui Xiaoming's exhibition painting and the inexplicable similarities between it and Gu Weijing's old version of "Good Luck Orphanage in the Sun".

"Well, the old man is angry with someone else."

Of course, Old Yang didn't dare to talk about this nonsense, so he told the old man the vague guesses that had crossed his mind while driving.

Everyone needs to know the number.

What if Mr. Cao feels that he is causing discord? Should he handle it himself?

No matter what Mr. Cao’s attitude is.

None of those great painters is a good person. Anyway, it won't be a big problem to drag Old Yang out and light a sky lantern.

He is about to be set on fire. The helpless bikini girls on the yacht deck lack a broad chest to lean on. Who will take care of them?
Just because Mr. Yang doesn’t dare to mention it doesn’t mean that Mr. Cao doesn’t know about it.

The trick that Lao Yang sensed intuitively might have been noticed by Lao Cao when he first saw the painting.

and so.

That's why he got so angry.

Old Yang didn't point it out.

Because I don’t dare.

But why didn’t Mr. Cao point it out?

Probably not willing.

Some things can be dealt with vaguely if you see through them but don't speak out loud, and it also leaves some face for your apprentice in front of outsiders.

"No matter how glorious and majestic a person was in the past, he will become pitiful when he gets old." Old Yang shook his head.

It’s sad to say it out loud.

Don't say it.

Actually, I am sad too.

Thinking of Mr. Cao's appearance at that moment, Old Yang's desire to show off even faded.

Mr. Cao is such a majestic and cool old man.

He has been bragging all his life and would not even pay attention to Sir Brown who offered him $300 million.

I also feel so powerless, so angry, and so caught in a dilemma.

I can't even explain it.

He actually wants someone like Lao Yang to be pitied.

"Ah~"

Old Yang sighed heavily. His lifelong dream was to make a lot of money, to move up the social ladder and buy a yacht.

But now he discovered it.

Every family has sutras that are difficult to recite.

He is a great painter who can buy yachts at will, travel around the world in a private jet, and whose transaction volume at auctions can reach over 1 billion throughout the year.

They are still unhappy when they should be unhappy.

Then what's the point of climbing up?

Even a worldly person like Lao Yang couldn't help but feel a little depressed.

He walked towards the pond in the yard.

Standing by the pond, he took out a large sausage from the takeaway box through the plastic bag in his hand, facing the water, put it in his mouth, and took a big bite.
-
Old Yang faced the lake, his sad and profound philosophical contemplation lasting only until the moment his cell phone rang.

The sound of "Ode to Joy" came from my arms.

It is quite incredible that someone like him would choose Beethoven's music as his cell phone ringtone.

"This bleak and sad spirit of ours is really artistic. Keep it up. Next time you go to a blues bar, if you can't get the girls' phone numbers, they'll just have no taste."

Old Yang chewed the sausage fiercely and blinked at himself in the water.

Think of this.

He became happy again.

As for human beings, life passes by so quickly, so don't think too much about unnecessary things.

Even if you are destined to be unhappy.

Lao Yang would rather lie on a sailboat on the warm coast of the Mediterranean, resting his head on the girl's soft thighs, and thinking about existential philosophical questions.

I have to wait until he becomes financially independent before I can feel sad.

When I was studying at CAFA, many of my classmates were reading books by Wittgenstein, Benjamin, Dazai Osamu, Zweig, and Mishima Yukio, and were filled with emotion there.

Old Yang just glanced at them and felt that those melancholy philosophers and writers who were always worrying about their lives were...

Each one is richer than the other.

They are all super rich people, and many of them are so poor that they have only money left to spend.

no way.

Who made Lao Yang such a vulgar person?

He swallowed the big sausage in his mouth hard, reached into his arms and took out his cell phone.

Lao Yang saw the incoming call on his mobile phone.

His eyelids blinked.

His whole eyes lit up.

Old Yang sniffed hard, putting a smile on his face, and then answered the phone.

"Brother Gu? Good afternoon. Oh, it's evening now, right? Why did you think of calling Brother Yang? Is there something wrong? If you have something, tell me. Of course, you can also call Brother Yang if you have nothing to do. I've been thinking about you!"

(End of this chapter)