Almighty painter

Chapter 733 Confrontation
Anna's eyes fell on Katsuko Sakai who was standing in front of her.

The other person was also staring at him, with neat bangs falling on her forehead and her head slightly lowered. Her jawline was very soft and a little childish, her cheeks were slightly baby-like and round, and her figure was well-proportioned.

She has a childish face and a feminine body, which makes Miss Sakai look innocent and sincere without any artificiality.

When innocence, romance and sincerity are condensed, enriched, and tightly condensed in a person's pupils like flowers attracting bees and butterflies, it will bring a sense of oppression.

Just as enriched beauty can also bring a sense of oppression.

Anna knew she was beautiful.

Of course she knows.

She knew that she was the most beautiful among all the beautiful girls around her, no matter if she was wearing simple clothes and sitting in a wheelchair.

It doesn't matter.

Even if I am wearing a tattered cotton jacket and sitting on a pile of burning dry grass, I am still beautiful.

Miss Elena's lines are gorgeous, dynamic and smooth, both in her body and her face.

Katsuko Sakai stood in front, looking at herself quietly, like a flower tree wet by the fading morning mist.

Miss Elena sat here, looking at each other coldly, like a crystal statue of a goddess.

The two people looked at each other, and the gentle smiles on their faces disappeared.

Katsuko Sakai breathed softly and said everything she wanted to say in an instant, making her breathing slightly rapid.

The gaze of the woman in the wheelchair also made her breathing quicken.

Even though Anna said nothing and did nothing.

The woman did not refute, scold, or threaten, she just sat there with a dignified manner, but the pressure still surged towards you.

When Miss Elena smiles at you, there is a magic that makes the whole city feel relaxed and happy.

Miss Elena stopped smiling and looked at you coldly.

then.

The weather is freezing cold.

All the notes that were just cheering and floating in the whole city.

The woman's nose was also frozen and frozen with every breath she took.

Katsuko Sakai thought she was ready to fall out with Anna. When she opened her mouth, she had the psychological expectation of becoming enemies with Elena's family.

It really has come to this.

Only then did she realize how much pressure the other party could bring.

The woman's quiet and cold gaze on her made Katsuko Sakai feel heavy in her heart.

It's like suffocating.

It is obvious that you are the one speaking, but the other person is silent.

It was me who was standing, and the other person was sitting in the wheelchair - but the feeling of being suppressed could not be faked at all.

The tabby cat showed its sharp claws fiercely.

The real noble, the noble who is high above, the noble who is graceful and elegant, the noble who has a noble temperament. She sits in front, and she still looks down at you coldly from above.

You keep your back straight.

But in the heart of the woman in the wheelchair, you are still a little girl.

You are so exhausted that you are gasping for breath, but others don't even frown.

Katsuko Sakai was probably really angry.

Anna didn't.

Katsuko Sakai tried hard to be less gentle and become sharp and direct, but Miss Elena suppressed her with her aura without saying a word, without even opening her mouth.

Katsuko Sakai could probably understand a little bit of what Kokoko felt when she stood at the net that day.

She tried so hard.

She ran desperately, jumped desperately, swung her racket desperately, and hit the ball with all her strength, even breaking her knees. But every time, the tennis ball would be hit back by Silent's casual hands, every time.

Your opponent is even barefoot, without any shoes on.

She hits back the ball that you smashed with all your strength as easily as throwing an empty can of soda into the trash can.

Katsuko Sakai wants to imitate Miss Elena.

She wanted to imitate the other person's words, imitate the other person's strength, and imitate the other person's eloquence.

Imitate the other person's strength and awe-inspiring temperament.

She wants to imitate the other party's style of behavior and fight back.

But she just couldn't compare to the other person, couldn't compare to the cold sense of power of a superior that came from his bones, couldn't compare to the cold and austere arrogance and generosity of a nobleman.

The repression just now came from the bottom of my heart.

The current oppression comes from the outside to the inside.

In this Anna Elena imitation competition, Anna Elena simply restrained her smile and retracted her gentle side that she rarely showed in front of others, and she killed all other competitors.

LOVE GAME!

(Tennis term for winning four points in a row and being unstoppable.)
the other side.

Anna wasn't even really offended, it was just a natural expression of her personal temperament.

Well…Anna still has a little bit.

She is not very happy.

No one could offend her like this. She was good at many things, but running was not one of them, and neither was tolerance.

Anna has a very strong personality.

Her aunt said it was a pity that she was not a boy and it was a pity that she was not born three hundred years earlier.

Otherwise, as an excellent dragoon colonel, she would add the title of a third earl to the title of Elena's family.

From small to large.

No one except her father, mother, and aunt could speak to her so harshly, in a scolding tone. No one could do that. Not the teachers at school, not the abbot of the Meineke Monastery, not even a "majesty", Sir Brown, Larry Gagosian... not even the head of state of Austria.

If you offend the Elena family, you will have to pay the price.

If you offend Anna Elena, you will pay the price.

The truth has always been so simple.

The essence of aristocratic upbringing is not to not get angry when being offended, but to pretend to be calm and indifferent when being offended.

Act like "getting angry with someone like you has dirty my hands", wave your hand calmly, and then servants will come with whips and barking dogs, drag you out and skin you alive.

Miss Elena turned her head slightly.

In a flash.

She was like a different person.

She no longer seemed to be sitting in a wheelchair, but rather as if she were riding a warhorse galloping among the Alps, or as if she were riding a burning lion chariot cutting through the sea of ​​clouds.

Wearing armor.

Majestic as a goddess.

Katsuko Sakai is just the daughter of a painter.

The daughter of an exceptionally "heavyweight" painter.

But she was just the painter's daughter.

The Irena family has sat at the center of the European power arena for six hundred years. It has stood firm for six hundred years amidst the turbulent conspiracies and struggles behind the curtains.

The Marquis of Wittenberg, the Prince of Lanrazof, the Prince of Condé, the Cripple Talleyrand, Cardinal Richelieu... these former friends or enemies, these ancient great men who once shook Europe and their families, have either declined, gone bankrupt, or become extinct.

One after another, they disappeared in the smoke of history.

And six hundred years later, after the twentieth century in which the nobles had no choice but to let their flowers fall, Anna Elena still sits here.

The Elena family still holds firmly on to the fields, lands, estates and wealth.

It continues to this day.

Still rich today.

For many ancient families, works of art are but passing smoke, and the painter's brush is but a decoration on wealth.

As long as the wealth and fame are there, everything is there.

The Irina family had sponsored and accomplished great painters whose status was in no way inferior to that of Sakai Kazunari. Even if their numbers were not as numerous as the grains of sand in the Ganges, they were still numerous.

Anna has to be willing.

She can treat Katsuko Sakai as a friend.

Anna doesn't want to.

Who is Katsuko Sakai?
Kazunari Sakai might not be important enough or courageous enough to be her enemy.

Miss Elena sat majestically on the chair.

Her eyes fell calmly on Katsuko Sakai's face, her chestnut pupils were like polished cloud maple wood, and the slightest bit of displeasure was the spark jumping on them.

After a few breaths.

The sparks slowly faded away.

She no longer smiled, but she also no longer stared at Katsuko Sakai with a scrutinizing and oppressive gaze.

The woman turned her head to look at the exhibition stand downstairs in the distance, wondering what she was thinking.

Anna sat at the railing.

Her combed hair fell slightly on her shoulders, and her profile still looked flawless.

Curatorial assistant Bonnie Lampcher, beside Director Tonks, quietly watched the scene and shrugged her shoulders.

"Gu Weijing?"

During the quarrel between Kazunari Sakai's daughter and Elena's daughter, she actually heard this name which was not familiar to her but left a deep impression on her.

A quarter of an hour ago.

She just spoke to the other party on the phone.

She also learned from the curator Tonks that Gu Weijing had dated Sakai Katsuko for a period of time, and that was why he got the front row booth next to Sakai Katsuko... to be precise, he had gotten it before.

Artists are often intense and sensitive.

This profession has the dual attributes of being introverted and outgoing. Some people appear calm and introverted. They are not good at socializing and have social phobia that is so serious that it can be described as a social disorder. They are so shy that they stutter when speaking in front of many people.

But their hearts are filled with rich and colorful emotions, sometimes like boiling fire, and sometimes like lonely ice. Some people say that some artists in European history have the same character as some feudal monarchs in European history.

Many people have common personalities.

Artists are essentially silent kings.

A king is an artist wearing a crown and using the political game as his painting.

They are all used to being alone, with a mysterious smile or mysterious coldness, sitting in the shadows where candlelight cannot reach, and facing the world calmly.

They said nothing.

Be frugal with words when speaking to others.

Court ministers and critics surrounded them, holding magnifying glasses, treading on thin ice or racking their brains to infer the true state of their hearts through the fleeting brushstrokes and a few words in the imperial edicts.

They want to express themselves but can't.

The artist in front of the painting board is not used to explaining his feelings with long and clumsy appreciation texts. The silent king is not used to explaining his ideas with long and clear explanations.

They want to love, but they don't know how to love.

Their fear of loneliness makes them want to hug others, and their familiarity with loneliness makes them naturally accustomed to pushing others away.

The king has a pure obsession with love.

The artist's attitude towards love is also a kind of paranoid purity.

I love you to death, and I hate you with gnashing teeth.

Anne Boleyn, maid of honor to Catherine, the Queen of Henry VIII, fell in love with the king at first sight. The king wrote her 17 passionate love letters in a row and looked for the most skilled jeweler in London to design a necklace with the most precious pearls and jade in England as a gift to her to represent his everlasting love.

The famous artist Holbein took on this task.

The king expelled the queen and imprisoned Catherine in a remote and cold castle until she fell ill and died. In order to be with Anne Boleyn, he launched the religious reformation and held a secret marriage despite the dual opposition of the court minister and the Archbishop of Canterbury.

perhaps.

Did her appearance really fill Henry VIII's yearning and imagination for love?

So he loved her madly.

A love story with a happy beginning does not necessarily have a happy ending.

A love story that begins with intensity often ends with an even more intense ending.

1536 5 Month 19 Day.

Queen Anne Boleyn of England was beheaded by Henry VIII for adultery, and her severed head was placed outside the Tower of London for people to see.

Only three years had passed since the king wrote her seventeen love letters, asked Holbein to design jewelry for her, and they got married secretly in the church.

Less than four months had passed since Queen Catherine, her former master, died alone in the cold wind of Kimbolton Castle.

At this time, Henry VIII already had a new love, Anne Boleyn's maid, Jane Seymour.

Henry VIII married six times in his life. Except for one queen who unfortunately or fortunately died of postpartum fever, he played out similar love stories four times.

I love you so much that I can't let go of your hands.

I hate you so much that I want to chop off your head with a sharp sword and abandon your body in the wilderness.

Similar examples can be found everywhere in the art world.

It took less than a year for Lao Bi's wives and lovers to transform from angels and muses into sluts and demons, destroying the three public enemies of the legendary European rock band - drugs, revolvers and girlfriends.

From the one holding a paintbrush to the one playing guitar.

Everyone's emotional life is determined and leaves no room for compromise.

When I fall in love with someone, I feel like I'm dying.

When I found out that I was wrong and that I didn't love someone, I felt really desperate.

Maybe he had a seizure and took some drugs, grabbed his revolver and rushed out.

From beloved to enemy, all it takes is a wake-up call, a moment of enlightenment, and a breakup scene.

The assistant curator has seen too many tiring dramas over the years.

Lampche didn't think there was any exception this time.

The artist's emotions are the sea at full moon.

The tide rises and falls.

The love of eighteen young people is like the weather on a midsummer day.

The sudden rain stopped suddenly.

The emotions of the eighteen-year-old young artists are a combination of the sea under a full moon and the rain on a midsummer day, wild, rich and fast.

Since we broke up.

So it is only natural that the Sakai family's feelings towards Gu Weijing should be like a low tide encountering a thunderstorm.

All the things I had done for Gu Weijing in the past, and all the good things I had said for that young man, now, all of them should be reflected back on me.

It’s good enough if you don’t put a little man in front of your bed and prick him with a needle every day!
After Kazunari Sakai arrived in Singapore, he had a brief private chat with Tonks. Tonks then told her privately to change the location of the booth.

This was a true foreshadowing of the other party's attitude that the curatorial assistant was imagining in his mind.

Within a few days.

This was the reason why her reaction to Gu Weijing quickly changed from warm to cold and distant.

Otherwise, even if she heard some rumors and someone gave her a heads-up in advance, and if Kazunari Sakai was still supporting Gu Weijing behind him—

What you think in your heart and what you actually do require some private weighing and consideration.

At least Lampuche would not show cold indifference towards Gu Weijing on the surface.

After being in the world of fame and fortune for a long time, who doesn't know how to simply flatter and please?

Bonnie Lampcher has been a curatorial assistant for five or six years.

She followed curator Tonks to high-class events around the world and met many VIP guests.

Many years ago, Tonks thought the heir of the Mexican Telecom, who was playing Snake on his Nokia straight-screen phone in front of the bulletproof cabinet, was a poor loser who ate at the dinner buffet like him. This was a stupid mistake made by a young student who first stepped into the social scene. Lampche was an artistic assistant, and an assistant was a key position to coordinate all parties, communicate with various guests, and judge the priorities of various affairs and various requests for the curator.

Even though she doesn't have Lao Yang's oiliness, she also doesn't have Lao Yang's killer instinct like a dog.

It's something I've learned through observation and hearing.

She can still accurately smell the scent of power.

That's right.

Power is not a color, it is a taste. It is an air of wealth that comes from sitting at the pinnacle of power for too long.

Not every wealthy person wears gold and silver, a Patek Philippe watch, or a Chanel suit.

A Patek Philippe watch might be temporarily loaned by a gallery to an artist to show off his/her art. A person wearing a Chanel evening gown and holding a champagne glass, chatting and laughing like a butterfly at a cocktail party, might also be a socialite looking for "buyers" for herself.

Whether it is a young painter who is eager to promote himself, or a socialite who is eager to promote herself.

At best, they can only be considered as vines entangled on the big trees.

None of them can be considered as real big trees, nor can they be considered as truly influential figures - the "flavor" of these people is not right enough.

The sense of dignity they carry, those luxury suits and expensive watches, are just the smell attached to a few strands of bark rubbed off a tree, a few drops of pollen of power on the wings of a butterfly.

For example, curator Tonks, who is the co-director of the Taylor Art Museum and a well-known curator in the international art field, can easily make new artists famous, and has the aura of a person in power. To outsiders, he feels like a cup of English Lipton black tea, with a water temperature of 90 degrees, which is not suitable for people with an impatient temper and can easily burn your hands. He behaves with the unique caution and tenderness of an English gentleman.

Kazunari Sakai is also a chubby person, but he is a huge donut with cream and filling. He is soft on the outside, but he knows everything clearly on the inside.

You tease him a few words and poke the soft outer ring of the donut, and he laughs at you.

You really bullied him and pushed him hard.

He will roll over and crush you to death.

but.

After spending a few times with him, Lampche realized that Sakai Kazunari's docile nature was not an act.
Among the top artists, he really has the best personality. He has a gentle and contented look with life, and smiles obediently every day in front of his wife.

It is a type with large "gravitational potential energy".

Unless others push him hard, he will just lie there obediently and not bother to roll away.

But it was Kazunari Sakai's wife, a tall blonde Latina woman who was even taller than her husband when she wore high heels. When she walked, the sound of her heels clinking could be heard, like the sound of gladiators' swift swords colliding with each other.

Lampche was not afraid of Kazunari Sakai, but he was a little afraid of his wife.

And their daughter.

There is a delicate and tender feeling about Miss Katsuko, with the scent of stream water and forest grass. Only a romantic and natural nature, and harmonious parents and a happy family can raise such a child.

Miss Elena... is someone that Lampche cannot evaluate.

Her sense of pampering is ten times that of Katsuko Sakai, and her sense of authority is greater than that of Mrs. Sakai.

Her majesty, her tranquility, her indifference, the "dictatorial" nature of her words, the "affected" nature of her gestures, and even the curve at the corners of her mouth when she gazes into the distance - these are all feelings that were carved out from the mountains of gold and jade.

It shines through everything without any embellishment.

A whisper but a voice as loud as thunder.

The aura and the strong light emanating from the other party strongly enveloped the exhibition hall.

Just now, when Anna and Shengzi looked at each other, Lampche felt that the exhibition hall under his feet was on fire and frozen at the same time.

The feelings are very contradictory, yet very real.

Lampche knew that she was not the only one who had this feeling. She saw with her own eyes that Director Tonks beside her was licking the corner of her mouth desperately. She wanted to rush over to smooth things over but didn't know how to start. It was as if in her haste, the 90-degree black tea had burned the corner of her mouth.

She couldn't accurately describe the feeling Miss Elena gave her, and no earthly words could describe the stars in the sky.

This feeling is very rare in her five-year career as a curatorial assistant.

This is the only one.

Oh.

No.

There is another person.

There was another person who gave her a feeling that Bonnie Lampche couldn't find the accurate words to describe in a short period of time.

Gu Weijing.

Once again, she thought of the young man she had just spoken to.

Lampuche had never seen a young woman as special as Elena.

Lampuche had never seen such a special young man as Gu Weijing.

(End of this chapter)