Almighty painter

Chapter 736 The Sailor and the Duke

Anna and Katsuko Sakai said goodbye to each other in solemn silence. Anna stood for a long time beside booth 67, and remained silent for a long time. Katsuko Sakai rushed out of the building of the Esplanade by herself. When she walked to the street, the blonde caught up with her and grabbed her clothes.

Mrs. Sakai waved her hand without saying a word to stop a blue taxi on the street.

The mother and daughter got in the back seat of the taxi.

The taxi waited there for more than ten seconds before Kazunari Sakai came running over with his belly dangling. He opened the door and rolled into the passenger seat. The blue Honda taxi immediately sank a long way with a squeak.

It started slowly, but eventually drove away.

It was evening.

A sunset glow appeared over the sky above Lion City, a city surrounded by the sea.

The rainbow shines through the sun.

Just as Carla mentioned in the letter she sent home one hundred and fifty years ago, she had seen a red glow at dusk in Paris.

The red glow hangs in the sky, a burning sea of ​​clouds.

At one end of the sea of ​​clouds, there are the silent Miss Elena and the silent Shengzi. At the other end of the sea of ​​clouds, on the other side of the city, there is a noisy scene of the human world.

"SUIT ON! (Put on a suit!), party time!"

Mi Rochor Hotel, first floor lobby.

Lao Yang walked into the revolving door and snapped his fingers into the microphone of his mobile phone.

"Brother Gu, I'm here. See you downstairs."

He put the phone in his pocket, stood in front of the floor-length dressing mirror in the hotel lobby, and adjusted his tie.

An oversized Versace suit, very respectable.

Armani belt, decent.

He was wearing shiny leather shoes on his feet and a shiny three-eye gold Rolex watch on his wrist. Although the circle of rainbow diamonds on the gold watch was secretly inlaid by Lao Yang, it was still very decent.

Old Yang looked at himself in the mirror happily and practiced his "charming" smile in front of the mirror again.

Against the backdrop of shiny leather shoes, shiny gold watches and shiny foreheads.

His smile also seemed a little more slick.

"Good luck, great kills."

Old Yang pouted and snorted.

A social banquet is one of the best occasions to show off, especially when Master Cao and his other disciples are not present.

There are no tigers in the mountains, and the monkeys are kings.

Lao Yang loves it very much.

"I just have to be domineering." He secretly gave a thumbs up in the mirror.

Although the man in the mirror has a small belly, he looks like a decent person in a business suit. Compared with the polka dot windbreaker he wore when entering the airport, he has completely changed his appearance, from a greasy Chihuahua next door to a...

The Queen's greasy corgi!

The only flaw was that, somehow, there was a red scratch several centimeters long on the side of Lao Yang's face next to his ear.

The marks were not deep, but very obvious, somewhat destroying his aura of a domineering president.

then.

The greasy Queen Corgi was downgraded again and turned into the Queen Corgi who had just lost the fight with the wild cat next door and was beaten up.

"Brother Gu, are your cat's vaccination procedures complete? Send it to me later."

When Gu Weijing changed his clothes and walked out of the hall, Lao Yang was putting his face in front of the mirror, observing the scratches left by Awang.

The big, garlic-like nose had rubbed against the surface of the floor-length mirror. As he exhaled white steam, the tip of his nose left a small oil mark on the spotless mirror.

"Brother Yang, I'm not saying anything to you. You can't spoil your cat so badly. You have to change this bad habit. You'll have to starve it for two meals later..."

While Old Yang was taking revenge on himself, he turned his head and glanced at Gu Weijing.

Suddenly he laughed.

"Is this your first time attending a banquet like this?" Old Yang stared at Gu Weijing's dress with a playful look. Suddenly, he patted his shoulder with a sense of superiority and asked him to come to the dressing mirror.

Gu Weijing nodded.

"has a problem?"

He looked at himself in the mirror expressionlessly.

"has a problem."

The assistant nodded and answered the question irrelevantly: "Have you read Hugo or Maupassant's novels? Ninety-Three, The Man Who Laughs, etc.?"

Edward Yang directs the country like an elder brother. Although he is a middle-aged man with a Chihuahua-like appearance, he has a very introverted and literary heart.

"I know that in the 19th century, beautiful artists from the French provinces came to Paris, the first time they came to the metropolis. They were ambitious. They wanted to rise to fame and fortune, to mingle with the upper class, and even to be favored by beauties in the private salon of the countess. When they first breathed the turbid air mixed with the breaths of millions of people in Paris, what was the first thing they had to do?"

Gu Weijing shook his head and replied, "I am not very interested in things that have nothing to do with me."

"No, no, no, this is not a correct answer, Brother Gu. If you want to make it in this industry and do well in it, you must be interested in it."

"You can't escape from the world of fame and fortune. Coming here and standing in this position, even if you haven't stepped into the spotlight yet, you are already in the world of fame and fortune."

Old Yang patted the young man's chest in an air of condescension.

"Brother Yang is teaching you the truth. I've been in this business for so many years, and I've seen some of the ways of the upper class. I'm too lazy to teach ordinary people!" Old Yang pouted and said persistently, "Come on, guess."

"Become famous." Gu Weijing thought about it.

In the world of fame and fortune.

Artists want wealth and fame, and all they seek is fame and popularity.

"Too broad."

Old Yang nodded, then shook his head, and seemed dissatisfied with the answer.

"To become famous is to achieve success, and success is to be famous. You can't tell me that you choose to become famous in order to succeed. This answer is not wrong, but it is answering the question with a question. In 19th century Europe, there were many ways to become famous, such as being appreciated by nobles for painting, poetry, sculpture, dancing, and even for telling good jokes..."

Old Yang smiled shyly at the dressing mirror.

He seemed to be caught up in some fantasy about tonight's banquet, his smile was like a meat bun with a thousand folds slowly blooming, his expression was filled with excitement, anticipation, and a little bit of nervousness.

The whole person has a feeling of happy hesitation.

After adjusting his smile in front of the mirror again, Old Yang said earnestly, "Don't think I'm kidding you. I have studied the pasts of those cultural celebrities in the 19th century. There are far more people who succeeded by making humorous speeches and making people happy at salons of noble ladies than you think."

"But these are things that will come later. Ambitious handsome young men from the countryside come to Paris, London or Vienna. If they want to make a name for themselves, the first thing they have to do is -" Old Yang inserted a small pause in his tone, "You may not think of it - is to order a decent, well-fitting, and well-dressed formal suit."

The middle-aged assistant patted his belly.

Show Gu Weijing his decent, well-fitting and well-dressed formal suit.

"Brother Gu, you have to understand that the Duchess would not have sex with a sailor at the dock."

"The Duchess has the most beautiful and talented poet in Paris as her lover. This is something that everyone in the social circle envies. Maybe the Duke himself doesn't care. But if the Duchess sleeps with the most beautiful and talented sailor in Paris, she will immediately face social death. So this kind of thing will not happen."

"No, never." Lao Yang said softly.

"Noble women love Fonds, banker daughters love Vons. These are the words of the German Emperor. No matter Fonds or Vons, no one likes Sailors."

Fonds means large amounts of money and the sound of gold coins.

And Vons-Von means the surname "Feng".

Over the past few hundred years, surnames containing this middle name have been a symbol of the most representative upper-class aristocrats in Central Europe.

"You have to understand that the person you are going to meet at the banquet today, Miss Elena, even if the law forcibly removes the three letters VON from her original name, she is still a member of both VONS and Fonds. She can still attend private receptions of various European royal families as a count, have her own family-exclusive box in the opera house, wear a VIP card on her chest, and appear in major exhibitions. In the land of old Europe, there are some aristocratic traditions that are superior to others. Those third, sixth, and ninth levels of nobility and inferiority can never be truly hidden just by hiding the surname and title."

Old Yang smiled.

"I have been hanging around in London for many years. In the bars in the UK today, if you hear that you have royal blood, even if it is a very remote bloodline, or you are related to a certain lord, even if you are just a delivery guy, there will still be people who raise their glasses to toast you. They will think you are born awesome."

Gu Weijing was a little unhappy.

Lao Yang's words made him unhappy.

He also didn't know why the other party told him these things.

But he did not easily show his dissatisfaction on his face.

"I understand, but it's just a banquet. I guess we're not going there to have sex with the Duchess." Gu Weijing just smiled softly, "The most we can do with Miss Elena is just a few words. We may not even have the chance to say hello. So... no matter she is a FONDS, VONS or SAILORS, she should be with me--"

"What's the difference?" Old Yang put his hand on Gu Weijing's shoulder and interrupted him. Gu Weijing frowned.

"Whether you want to have sex with the Duchess, gain the appreciation of the noble, or gain the kindness of Miss Elena, what difference does it make? Isn't all this just about power? Regardless of whether you can only say a few words to Miss Elena, tell jokes to make her laugh, or just smile at her from a distance, aren't the so-called well-dressed upper-class banquets places where people are divided into three, six, or nine levels?"

"Whether you like her or not, can you really not care whether she is a fonds, vons or sailors? Just like whether she likes her or not, can she really not care whether you are a fonds, vons or sailors?"

Old Yang in the mirror blinked gently at Gu Weijing.

Gu Weijing was stunned for a moment.

this moment.

In the mirror, Mr. Cao's personal assistant had a clear look on his greasy face.

It was an extremely rare look, as deep as the muzzle of a cowboy's gun that pierced through the world.

After several contacts.

Gu Weijing realized that Lao Yang was really a very special person.

There is always an indelible earthiness and greasiness about Yang Dekang, with the slickness and roundness sculpted by society, like a country dog ​​with greasy hair and covered in dirt, stretching its neck to look for someone to pet it.

But there is always that moment, one or two sentences among dozens or hundreds of greasy conversations, that can be surprisingly sharp and clear.

It’s not the gorgeous transformation of an ugly duckling into a white swan.

Lao Yang has always been a local dog.

In just a certain moment, it was as if the blast from the muzzle of a gun blew away the dust, and the flying flames burned away the oil stains.

In the midst of these powerful words, something leaped out of the dog's body. In this magical moment, like floating clouds and morning dew, the person in the mirror didn't look like a husky, a chihuahua, or a corgi.

The person staring at him in the mirror was simply a philosopher who saw through the world.

“Of course, whoever can pick up the Duchess, even if it’s just licking her to make her happy, must be the most awesome.” Old Yang smiled greasyly again.

Ok.

After all, floating clouds and morning dew are fleeting things.

After a moment.

Brother Yang turned back into the big bootlicker who was looking for people to rub his hands against him.

"I'm telling you this because I want to tell you, Brother Gu, that you need to have style. Not the style of temperament, but the style of clothes. You behaved well when I went to pick you up at the airport this afternoon."

“A person must have style, characteristics, and a personal image.” Lao Yang stroked his hair, changed his posture, and rehearsed a very personal smile in front of the mirror.

"You have to be active and not let people feel bored. The first impression is very important. The first impression determines how others view you. The first impression determines whether you will be forgotten among the crowd by the nobles."

"Holding such a big cat. Very tasteful, very artistic." Old Yang paused and touched the red mark on his face. "But you have to train your cat to be a little more obedient!"

"At a social drinking party, holding a literary book and reading it, one also has taste, a special artist."

Old Yang glanced at the book "Conversations with Goethe" in Gu Weijing's hand and gave him a thumbs up.

He had heard that Gu Tongxiang liked to walk around with a copy of Hemingway tucked under his arm, and he realized that he was a master at showing off.

Grandpa holds a copy of Hemingway.

The grandson holds the copy of Goethe.

It turned out to be the POSE internal skill inherited from my family.

"This is--" Gu Weijing began.

"I learned this from your grandfather. He's quite good at it. You just have to pretend to be cool." Old Yang waved his hand, indicating that his elder brother understood him.

"This is good."

"But do you know why I want to tell you this? Because your current business suit is not suitable. It is not stylish enough. It looks too shabby and down and out."

"shameful."

Lao Yang pointed out.

"This dress is not good, but it was bought for me by my grandfather. Brother Yang, maybe I can only afford clothes like this. This is my real family background. Not everyone can afford high-end brand ready-made clothes."

Gu Weijing said calmly.

Old Yang said that his clothes had a shabby air, but at least, there was no trace of shabbyness in the young man's tone.

Yang Dekang was stunned for a moment.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not making fun of you, Brother Gu. You'll be able to afford the best ready-to-wear clothing, believe me, it won't be long. But I say your clothes are not presentable. It's not about the price, at least not entirely... um..."

Old Yang scratched his head.

"I even think that you look very stylish and artistic when you come out of the airport wearing a cheap Japanese-style discounted shirt worth a few dozen yuan. Very cool."

“Light, but not shabby at all.”

"This suit of yours, no matter how cheap it is, is definitely more expensive than the one you wore on the plane, right?" Old Yang flipped up Gu Weijing's collar, "but it doesn't match well."

"Formal banquet attire should follow the TPO principle."

"Time, Place, Occasion. Wear the right clothes at the right time and in the right place. There are different levels of dresses for different levels of banquets, and different levels of dresses for banquets in different locations. Even for luncheons and dinners, there are different levels of dresses."

"Do you know why I asked you when you came downstairs just now what the first thing a handsome young man who came from the countryside to Paris and was ambitious to enter the upper class society should do?"

Old Yang looked at his watch, turned around and motioned Gu Weijing to follow him.

"Because clothes are the symbol of differentiating people into different classes in European social culture." Gu Weijing's voice was steady and clear.

"clever."

Cao Xuan's personal assistant snapped his fingers to show encouragement.

"There is a reason why countless poor young men, painters, and poets from the provinces, who rose to prominence in Paris and climbed into the beds of noble ladies and rich girls, all took the first step of custom-making a decent dress in the stories of countless European novelists, such as Hugo, Maupassant, Stendhal, Flaubert, and Dumas. "

"They took the money they had saved for their careers and their schooling, slept in the attic, and ate black bread for three months, just to have a decent dress during the social season. There was a reason for that. Because the upper class is such a society. If you don't dress decently, you will be laughed at by everyone. If you wear the wrong clothes at a ball, all the noble ladies will laugh at you. Paris is so big, do you think all the nobles know each other? How do they distinguish who is their own and who is a poor person? Knowledge, education? Nonsense, there are so many noble children who are uneducated and unlearned. It's just clothes."

"A decent formal suit was the ticket to enter the upper class society at that time. A duchess would never have sex with a sailor, but as long as a beautiful sailor could get a well-fitting and expensive dress, you would have a chance to get into social banquets. If you happened to have a local Parisian accent, you could pretend to be a distant relative of the local count and tell jokes to the ear of the countess and the duchess to amuse them. The Bourbon dynasty, the Orleans dynasty, the Bonaparte dynasty, a large number of nobles were running around. God knows if there is anyone like you. If you happened to be very rich, no matter how you got the money, whether it was stolen, robbed, or dug out of treasure, then you could become the Count of Monte Cristo yourself. You would be the most respectable of all respectable gentlemen."

Lao Yang opened the car door.

The navigation destination was set to the Raffles Hotel on the waterfront where the dinner was to be held.

He waited for Gu Weijing to get in the car, sit in the passenger seat, fasten his seat belt, and then started the engine.

"And if you dress poorly, you will be excluded from all high-level social events. To be appreciated by nobles? Sorry, you are not even qualified to enter the door of the nobles' salons. You will be politely or rudely asked to leave by the servants. How can you paint, recite poems, tell jokes, dance, and show yourself?"

"Respect the clothes but not the person. This has never been a Dongxia proverb."

Old Yang smiled.

“It’s a universal proverb.”

The BMW drove onto the road. Lao Yang turned on the radio, held the steering wheel, and swayed slightly along with the music.

"It's the 21st century now, isn't it? The organizing committee probably won't refuse me entry to the banquet hall just because my outfit is not expensive and decent enough."

Gu Weijing noticed that Lao Yang was staring at his collar.

He knew there was a little bit of darkness there.

He cleaned the collar of his shirt in the vanity mirror on the visor.

Gu Weijing didn't find the iron in the guest room.

The hotel does provide dry cleaning services. The price of two dry cleanings is almost the same as the price of the suit that Gu Tongxiang bought him, which is not a big deal. The problem is that even if you want to expedite it, you can only pick it up at nine o'clock tomorrow morning, and he only has this one suit now.

The black stains there were not caused by sweat or oil, but by the sparks from the wind blowing through the alley when he burned the million-dollar check handed to him by Uncle Sakai in the alley before putting on his best clothes and going to Xihe Hall to face Brother Hao.

So these days, it has been difficult to clean.

"If the organizers think your clothes are too inappropriate, this kind of thing may happen. Even Hamilton was asked to leave the royal box by Wimbledon security because he did not meet the dress code on the invitation letter."

Old Yang stared at Gu Weijing's face out of the corner of his eye.

Wait a few seconds.

Seeing that the young man was not frightened and did not show any panic or embarrassment, he let out a sigh of disappointment.

"Well. Probably not at tonight's social dinner. You're not to the point where you'll be asked to leave by the organizers. But Miss Elena can tell from a distance, as far as the moon, just a casual glance that you're not 'one of us'."

"He's not one of us." Gu Weijing calmly repeated what Lao Yang said.

"Yes, not someone from her social circle. That's not a good sign. Remember the theory I told you about the duchess and the sailor? People tend to socialize only with people from the same circle. This is especially true for big people."

(End of this chapter)