Almighty painter

Chapter 703 However, the butterfly knows
There was silence.

Beside them, Master Cao and his disciples were whispering something.

The surround sound system in the VIP lounge also plays airport-specific piano music, such as Richard Clayderman or Paul Mauriat, at a low tone.

But at this moment, these are no longer important.

In Anna Elena's ears, the world suddenly became silent.

The only thing that mattered was the name on the paper in his hand - Carroll.

"Carroll, the Painter Forgotten by Time: The Entanglement of Color and Visual Dimension in Dark-toned Impressionist Works".

The title of this paper is very long, with the standard English eight-part naming style. Professional and complicated academic terms are rhythmically embedded in the long title that occupies an entire line. While flaunting its own professionalism, it attracts the attention of scholars, like a Rolex watch inlaid with a circle of colored diamonds.

But Anna just stared at the name.

Carol.
CAROL, just five simple English letters, may also be German letters or Greek letters derived from the Germanic language family.

The five of them formed a string, collided with each other, and rolled down one by one on the "slope" formed by the magazine paper.

They splashed into Miss Elena's chest one by one.

jingle.

If you could hear the collision of those invisible letters, the sound they produce would definitely be like that of Haydn's symphony.

Bright and crisp, full of a religious sense of transcendence.

When I first heard it, I felt that it was essentially no different from an ordinary hymn. However, the lingering sound lingered over Austria, captured the hearts of European composers, and lingered there for the next two hundred years.

Anna's heart was also captured by this voice.

"Old Church in a Thunderstorm", early Impressionist works, forgotten women painters, and - Carroll.

These words are combined together, one after another, like dominoes, and finally fall together in the same long sound.

It was as if someone had plucked the strings two centuries ago.

One hundred and fifty years later.

The notes belatedly rang out in the Singapore airport, ringing on the chest of a young woman in a wheelchair, making the whole world hold its breath.

This belated and mournful sound.

"CAROL...Carol."

The note bounced in Anna's heart and said this to her.

Miss Elena flipped through the paper in her hand.

She scanned the pages for all the information about The Old Church in a Thunderstorm, its discovery, the artistry, the study of brushwork style, tones and aesthetics, and the authors’ speculations about the painter’s identity.

Like many academic papers, this is a scholarly study rather than an archaeological biography.

The space is limited.

Regarding the discovery of "The Old Church on a Thunderstorm Day", the two authors of the paper simply said that they discovered an old painting by chance in Yangon.

A lot of aesthetic analysis of oil paintings has been written.

Comparative analysis of this painting with Renoir's brushwork style, Degas's brushwork style, Van Gogh, Pissarro and even Turner.

There is also an understanding of the evolution of Impressionism, which parts of the painting are typically Impressionist, and which brushstrokes carry characteristics of Romanticism.

Some of these things are poorly written and the inferences are a bit far-fetched.

Some of what they wrote made sense, but the analysis process was inevitably immature.

There are some things that Gu Weijing and Sakai Katsuko wrote well, but Miss Elena could write more profound statements than this while playing the C major scale on the piano with her left hand and combing August's hair with her right hand, in the gaps between playing with the big dog.

……

According to Anna's aesthetic standards.

This paper published in Asian Art is far from being an impeccable "perfect" paper.

It can't even be called a "strong" paper.

The text is filled with the author's hesitation, speculation and uncertainty.

The comparative analysis is not professional enough, the opinions given are not convincing enough, and there is inevitably a suspicion that there are no arguments to write and the article is just forced to be filled up.

The identity assertions they make are also sketchy.

Despite this, Miss Elena still read the article from beginning to end, word by word.

This is a paper of several thousand words.

Not too long, nor too short.

Regarding this painting, Gu Weijing and Sakai Katsuko said a lot in their article, but also said very little in their article.

In Anna's eyes, long and short, all in all, are nothing more than the five letters "Carol".

It is like a melody consisting of only one arpeggio.

Playing over and over again is nothing more than repetitive movement of a few keys in different positions.

But no matter how many times she played it or listened to it, Miss Elena could never get enough of it.

She felt like crying after hearing that.

Anna thought, I can’t cry.

Crying is the privilege of a young girl, but not the privilege of the head of the Elena family.

Youth means fragility.

Women are soft, and disabled people in wheelchairs are weak.

If there is anything in this world that looks more delicate, soft, and fragile than a young woman in a wheelchair, it’s a young woman in a wheelchair crying.

She hates this.

If Cao Xuan was a sculpture.

So is Anna, she is not only a human being, she is also Joan of Arc or something like that.

She is the last daughter of the Elena family.

No matter what this family represents or means, no matter how much glory her ancestors have won or how many sins they have committed.

She is the last daughter of the Elena family and the last symbol of the family.

She had to be strong, powerful and "shine".

Sculptures cannot cry, just as they cannot bleed. Even if you are tied to the stake by the Inquisition, you should calmly wait for the flames to engulf you.

"When the fire was just lit, she called Jesus more than six times, and especially when she took her last breath, she called Jesus in a firm voice. Almost everyone present shed tears of sympathy." - She hated the atmosphere of the girls' public school, but Anna clearly remembered that the old lady in the school read out the story of Joan of Arc in a tone like reading the Bible.

Her grades have always been the best.

"In a firm tone, calling Jesus."

Joan of Arc didn't cry, so the others couldn't help but shed tears.

Therefore, the executioner who carried out the burning at the stake would toss and turn in sleep for fear that he would go to hell for executing a "saint".

If Joan of Arc suddenly started crying.

Then… who would still pursue her? If she revealed her delicate, soft and weak side, then who would follow her back and walk towards the battlefield?

Maybe right now.

There were no reporters in the VIP lounge of the airport, but not far away from her were Cao Xuan and his disciples.

Now is the critical moment in the struggle between the Elena family and Sir Brown. Both sides want to compete for the dominance of "Oil Painting" magazine, and even want to use it to compete for the dominance in their own art field.

If in front of so many great painters.

She suddenly sobbed and cried. What would Cao Xuan think? What would Liu Ziming and Wei Yunxian think? If the news got out, what would the upper echelons of the art world think?
but.

Miss Elena still wanted to cry.

Anna is a very vigilant person.

From childhood to adulthood, she has seen too many people with ulterior motives surrounding her with ulterior motives.

This is the price that a wealthy heiress must pay.

Anna told herself that the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment.

She told herself that, as of now, there are still many uncertainties regarding the content of this paper.

But Anna just couldn't help it.

The ripples that the notes stirred in her heart were not like a stone falling into water, spreading from the inside out.

It's like going back in time.

The ripples move backwards to the source,

The rose's petals and leaves are closed, covering the bright yellow, dewy core in the center.

The diaries and letters in the family library, the corner of the ashes, the stories she knew since childhood, the tombstones in the monastery, one by one, one after another... tightly surrounded her, wrapping her up from the outside to the inside.

……

The year her aunt died, the big dog August was still a big dog, but Anna was just a little girl.

The funeral took place at the Menech Monastery.

Celebrities gathered.

Many of the guests present were leading figures from old European families.

Many people have a long list of titles from lord to duke.

The royal families of Spain and Denmark also sent envoys.

Even Otto Habsburg was there.

(The picture shows a portrait of Otto in 1916.)
The last heir to the throne left by the Austro-Hungarian Empire when it collapsed in 1918 came to Anna's delivery room when she was born.
Her aunt's funeral was one of the last times he appeared in public.

His health was already very poor at that time, and he passed away almost in the same year. According to the official statement of a spokesman for the Habsburg family, he died peacefully in his sleep without pain.

The 19th century in the European historical view often begins with the arrival of Emperor Napoleon on the historical stage. The powerful Napoleon and the glorious Queen Victoria occupied most of the history of the 19th century. It also ends with the collapse of the three largest empires in Europe, the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Tsarist Russia, and the German Empire, and with Otto's father taking him into exile from Austria.

What followed was the aftermath that lasted for twenty years.

The turbulent 1991th century came to an end in when the Soviet Union collapsed and the Cold War ended.

Therefore, European historians often say: the long nineteenth century and the short twentieth century.

When Archduke Otto died, the press wrote that at this moment, no matter how long the 19th century had been, it was finally over.

So that encounter was the last time the patriarch of the Habsburg family and the patriarch of the Irene family met in the old imperial era.

Anna was still very young that year.

Perhaps it was the keen sense of smell inherited from Elena's family, or perhaps it was just the child's innocent and smart nature.

When she was wearing a dark veil and a black veil, sitting in the first row of the funeral, she looked back at the people sitting in the venue.

She didn't feel any "divine destiny calling her." She felt... empty.

The little girl Anna recalled that morning when she sat in the monastery and looked at the room full of nobles, the descendants of these once glorious European rulers.

As one of them.

However, she realized more deeply than reading history books that the era represented by Cardinal Richelieu, the Cripple Talleyrand, the Iron Chancellor Bismarck, the Habsburgs, the Hohenzollerns, even Churchill... even Elena... had really completely disappeared long ago.

It's all over.

Listen to the adults chatting.

Royalism, restoration, Danube Confederation, Rhine Kingdom... Did the count in Germany not far away really believe that he could establish a monarchy like Rome on the banks of the Danube in Central Europe?
How many people are really willing to believe these words?

Or?

When they used these words and talked about those ideas, how many people present really believed them?
Miss Elena thought, this really is the emperor's new clothes.

Unlike that fairy tale.

Many, many people here actually know in their hearts that the clothes they are wearing are fake.

They know that they are no longer important on the world stage.

They just pretend they are important.

They slowed down the clock, altered the calendar, mistook 2011 for 1911, and pretended that they had turned back the wheel of time.

When the monastery gates closed.

At this funeral venue, in this bubble of time and space, everyone is still His Excellency, Lord, or member of the House of Lords. They can still speak out their opinions beside the globe, imagining that a phone call to the king can shake up the world, and that if they unite together, they can put pressure on the prime minister or the president.

And after opening the door of the monastery.

Living with the wrong clock and calendar is like singing with the wrong beat.

all.

And they all seem so absurd.

A child's innocence can expose the emperor's new clothes, but it cannot expose the fantasies of a group of adults who just want to wear new clothes.

It’s not that people can’t wake up, but that they don’t want to wake up.

They want to live in the fantasy of the past, holding a sword and becoming a general on the stage.

How many of the guests here are truly sad for her aunt, and how many of them come in dark suits and veils just to... play an immersive role-playing game?

What was the difference between what she saw and what the many people who came to mourn in this church were doing and the 20th century schools handing out a 200-year-old "Rules of Conduct for Catholic Ladies" as a code of conduct?

Anna felt empty and ridiculous.

Plus.

In the morning, she met her gambler uncle in church, which made her feel even worse.

and so.

After the ceremony, she did not participate in the subsequent social activities.

Such role-playing games can continue without the need for actors like her to sit on a chair.

Anna left the venue directly.

He did not bring any maids or followers with him.

The girl was strolling alone in the tree-shaded courtyard of the Menech Monastery.

The wheelchair was pressed on the stone pavement between the monasteries, and accidentally or intentionally, she once again came to the tombstone of Grandma Karazu.

"Kara von Elena"

In an absurd era, in an absurd bubble, only a very few people will live bravely and soberly.

Their family is of Greek descent.

The word "Kara" means "beloved" and "brave" in Greek.

Ironically, the distant uncle whom Anna met this morning and who had upset her was also named "Kara".

of course.

This name has several different variations, with slightly different spelling details and pronunciation when used as a male or female name.

Essentially these two are still the same name.

The person Miss Elena admires most and the person she dislikes most in her life happen to have the same name.

The feeling of emptiness in Anna's heart was magnified exponentially.

No matter whether you are noble or not, no matter whether you are brave or cowardly, no matter whether you spend your life in decadence and dissipation, living in a bubble of illusion, or you turn your back on the princess's fantasy and bravely embrace this world.

No matter how big the differences are between people.

You all have the same name, you all have the same code name.

You all stand together.

The only difference is that one has been lying in the grave for hundreds of years, while the other is in a monastery... Miss Elena doesn't know what the other is doing, is he preparing a private poker game, or is he hooking up with the daughter of an old gentleman? It doesn't matter.

What matters is, after the next hundred years.

They will all turn into bones and tombstones.

Grandma Kara and Uncle Kara were both named Kara, and like many people in this cemetery, the middle name engraved on their tombstones, which has been passed down from generation to generation in the family, is "Elena."

You love it or you don't.

You hate or hate you.

To create you or to destroy you.

Have done good things, or have done bad things.

Generation after generation of earls, countesses, little earls, old earls, lords, barons, or ladies, wives and gentlemen without titles.

They will all lie equally in this cemetery, shoulder to shoulder, and become a pile of yellow earth.

Some of them, a very few, did great things and have their own biographies or chapters in some historical works on the bookshelf.

And more were submerged in the torrent of history. In the vast time scale, among the tens of billions and hundreds of billions of people who had lived and died, even if he was a high-ranking noble, the patriarch of a family, or an earl.

Now, there is only a small note on a page of history, or a brief name on the inheritance map of titles.

Even the one or two generations of earls who were the most brilliant and famous and pushed the family's reputation to the peak.

Their time has completely passed.

No one except historians ever mentions their names again.

“Here lies one whose name was written in water.”

Anna moaned.

"Fame Written on Water" is the epitaph written by the great poet Keats at the end of his life as a summary of his life.

There is a painting of an eight-string Greek lyre on his tombstone, but it only has four strings, and the remaining four strings are broken, symbolizing that the great poet's talent was cut off by death before he could sing.

Nothing could be more appropriate than reciting this epitaph at Kara's grave.

Anna thought that one day many years later, if nothing unexpected happened, she would also turn into bones under a tombstone in this cemetery.

And at that time.

Will there be people in the future who accidentally pass by this place, look at her tombstone, and sigh, "The one who sleeps here, his reputation is written on the water?"

suddenly.

She noticed a fresh flower with curved leaves and branches poking its head out from the grass between the tombstones.

A butterfly is hovering above the petals.

Anna's heart moved slightly.

The petals are newly yellow, and the stamens are needle-like.

The butterfly's wings are milky white, while the hind wings are a little light pink and a little light yellow, the same color as the flowers.

The flower is a common wild narcissus.

In history, several generations of Count Elena showed a strong interest in natural history or entomology. There is a collection room in the manor with a glass display cabinet filled with various specimens, ranging from the skull of a sea monster (later proved by biologists to be some kind of octopus) to various insects fixed with pins.

However, the new Countess is not one of them.

Anna couldn't identify the specific species of butterfly, but she thought it was probably just the common Pieris.

Flowers are the most common flowers.

The most common butterfly is the butterfly.

Apart from the fact that these flowers are blooming on Grandma Karazu's grave, this scene is almost the most common one, and anyone can see a similar scene in any woodland or field in Central Europe on a spring day.

Miss Elena just sat in the wheelchair, in front of Grandma Karazu's tombstone, looking at the butterfly that landed on the flower for a long, long time.

Until the housekeeper came looking for her.

Anna always felt that this scene had some kind of sacred meaning.

First of all.

She doesn't believe in reincarnation, dreams, or spiritualism.
She herself is skeptical about whether God really exists.

She thought so even though this was a monastery.

Well, let's assume that there is a creator in this world that humans cannot understand, and everything is connected. Anna also believes that it is a huge, subtle and incomprehensible connection, and it is definitely not something that can be interpreted by crystal balls, astrology, or tea leaves.

It is really hard to believe that the result of Kublai Khan's expedition to Japan was related to the light of stars thousands of light years away or the sheep bones or tortoise shells in the hands of the sacrifices in the Khan's Golden Tent.

If God really would respond to people's requests in this way and give mortals revelation and guidance.

So why would the omnipotent God prefer to turn Kara into a butterfly fluttering in front of him a hundred years after her death rather than grant her true freedom while she was alive?

Isn’t this really too cruel?

even.

The butterfly itself did not exhibit any supernatural qualities. It just stayed in front of the small flower on the tombstone for a very short moment and then flew away.

Most of the rest of the time.

Miss Anna in a wheelchair just stood there, staring at the wild flowers on the tombstone.

Countless things indicate that what Anna saw were the most common natural phenomena.

But she.

I just feel that this scene is very sacred.

Very warm too.

(End of this chapter)