Old-time musicians

At this time, Fan Ning was basically certain that the ashes of the painting without paint slag that he saw at the fire scene were the "Green Night" mentioned by the unsuccessful Salon painter Cumier.

"I said I would only burn garbage paintings. If your artistic attainments are comparable to Vincent's paintings, they will run away on their own," said Benjamin, who was sitting on the suspended car.

"Run? What do you mean it can run by itself?" Fan Ning asked in surprise.

"Only when certain correct pigments are used, the artistic conception can be expressed correctly." Benjamin looked up at the sky.

After that, although the answer was not what was asked, I actually felt that what he said made sense.

Fan Ning felt more and more that it was easy to be led astray when talking to such a madman who maintained the ability to communicate, but he was trying to continue to explore the hidden knowledge that he did not know, so he insisted on asking: "So why did you run away?"

"I appreciate many things and remember them deeply." Benjamin continued to talk seriously.

"If it runs away, you can open the 'Gate of Seven Lights', or if it doesn't run away, can you open it?" Fan Ning asked again.

"Wow--"

Benjamin ignored him, and his esophagus twitched uncontrollably and retched again.

Fan Ning frowned and looked at the rickety car in front of him.

When Fan Ning heard the name "Gate of Seven Lights" before, he had already thought of the seven phases and colors of divinity.

The information related to this door is most likely the core hidden knowledge mastered by the Harmony School. Combined with the characteristics of the oil paintings currently in hand, the seven paintings may be the coordinates of searching for the "Gate of Seven Lights", or they may be the secret to travel through. key.

Fan Ning was previously unsure whether a “special” painting was “unique” or special “exceeding a certain level of requirements”.

But now it is speculated from Benjamin’s words that the latter is more likely.

After all, paintings are also made by people, creating a substance that has a unique correspondence with the Huita door. He feels that this is not something that his father Vincent or the failed salon painter Cumier can do.

So, when certain suitable pigments are used, and the painting skills and artistic conception reach a certain level, the work will take on some extraordinary properties and have some mysterious connection with the 'Gate of Seven Lights' in the Hui Pagoda?

The right paint…

Fan Ning couldn't help but look back at his large box car. He had thrown the bundle of paint on the passenger seat.

If this is the case, Vincent's five paintings can also be replaced by the works of other artists. Furthermore, for the "Green Night", there is no problem for Cumier to repaint one.

"My face is His face! His image is my image!!" Benjamin suddenly roared at the top of his lungs.

The three of them couldn't help but take a step back in fear.

"Don't move!" Xilan and Qiong, one holding a gun and the other holding a curse seal, looked at him without blinking.

"This guy..." Fan Ning couldn't help but feel a chill in his heart when he saw that this cold and calm investigator in the past had become like this after gaining some knowledge.

"I'm sorry." Benjamin turned around with an apologetic look, "I've been a little irritated after seeing too much garbage. It'll be better if I let it out... What I just asked you to bid for still counts. How about 300 pounds?"

"His current state of repeatedly jumping between normal communication and neurotic behavior is exactly the same as the people of the Harmony School." Sheeran whispered next to Fan Ning.

Fan Ning nodded.

If it were someone else who stole the painting, Fan Ning would never give him a good look, even if he couldn't retain the painting after intercepting it.

But what’s special about Benjamin is that he comes from the Special Patrol Department.

This organization's presence in front of me is too high, and what I know is too little.

Regardless of whether he goes crazy or not, communication will make sense. Today I got a lot of key information, such as the Special Patrol Office looking for the so-called remains of the Origin God.

But looking at Benjamin's appearance after being contaminated, the "Fountain in the Painting", the sacred object of the Harmony School, must have really gone crazy.

After thinking for a while, he tried to ask: "So where is 'Chi'? Do you know where 'Chi' is?"

Vincent's five paintings, plus Cumier's "Green Night", are still one short.

This topic is what Benjamin is interested in. He immediately replied: "You asked about "The Painful Room"? It's lying in the seal room of the Special Patrol Hall, ha... Those guys covered it tightly with black gauze, for fear of After seeing too much, it ran away.”

After finishing speaking, Benjamin began to count his wallet again: "Mr. Fan Ning, please come up with a price. How about the 300 pounds just now? ... The air stinks..."

…"The Pain Room"? The seal room of the Special Inspection Department?

Fan Ning had an idea and asked casually: "Do you know any way to get back the things seized by the Special Patrol Office?... If what you say is feasible, I will let you crawl now Return to the bridge."

Benjamin suddenly looked at Fan Ning with dull eyes, and began to mutter in a low voice:

“My face is His face…His image is my image…”

"What are you doing?" Fan Ning's body suddenly tensed up and he raised the Fierce Sun Guide in his hand.

Benjamin's face gradually changed from a dull expression to one of awe and gratitude: "Mr. Fan Ning, I take back my previous insults and disdain for you."

"What's wrong with me?" Fan Ning felt uncomfortable when he heard Benjamin use honorifics in his second-person address. He just felt that he was going crazy if he continued to talk at this person's pace.

"I didn't expect that you were also planning to get the "Room of Pain". I didn't expect that you were also working on opening the 'Gate of Seven Lights' and seeing the great holy spring... I didn't expect that you had already thought about becoming a doctor at a young age. 'Martyr'... Otherwise, leave it to you to complete the feat. I will provide you with cooperation... Your talent in the extraordinary field is stronger than mine. You will definitely gain more knowledge after opening the 'Gate of Seven Lights'. Then I will I’ll ask you for advice again…”

Benjamin kept using admiring parallels, and his eyes showed his ardent expectations for Fan Ning.

…who the hell wants to open the “Gate of Seven Lights” and gain more knowledge? Fanning sounded scared and anxious.

"So is there anything you can do?" He suppressed his impatience and took a non-committal approach to Benjamin's suggestion of "getting "The Pain Room"".

If there is a way to bring out this painting of Benjamin, then maybe you can also use this method on your mobile phone.

"...I'm still doing experiments." Benjamin said, "When I go back, I will continue to do experiments. When my experiments are successful, I will contact you for cooperation."

Fan Ning rolled his eyes angrily.

These lunatics from the Harmony School are really just like the elixir master Cyndia, they talk about doing experiments all day long.

But he endured it, and he didn't rule out the possibility that Benjamin would be able to come up with a solution, and without the help of outside help, he had no idea how to take away the seized items from the Special Inspection Office.

"So how will you contact me after your experiment is successful? How to contact me?" Fan Ning tried to make an appointment with him.

"Use a drift bottle." Benjamin said.

"...??" Fan Ning's eyes widened.

Benjamin said as he turned around and took out a small glass bottle with a wooden stopper from the storage box.

"When I need to contact you, I write the note in a drift bottle and throw it into the river. You will know after you get it and open it."

Sheeran and Joan looked at each other with strange looks in each other's eyes, and stretched out their hands to cover the smiles on their faces.

"...Okay." Fan Ning bit her lip and nodded.

Either he's a madman, or this is a ritual object, or both.

Fan Ning felt that he had adapted.

So this farce came to an end in a weird and absurd conversation, but Fan Ning vaguely felt that it was very effective, and he seemed to have gained a lot of knowledge.

He began to think, now that the painting was back, and there was really nothing he could do against the lunatic who stole the painting, should he just retreat or something else...

The investigator who was contaminated by hidden knowledge was forced to panic. It had nothing to do with him jumping into the river. What if something was aberrated?

"See if you want to consider letting me buy your painting..." Benjamin sat in the air, continued to count the money with his head lowered, and then continued to mutter: "My face is His face... His image is It’s my image…”

Fan Ning's thoughts were interrupted.

…? Didn't this guy just say that the feat of opening the "Gate of Seven Lights" would be left to him? Why do you want to collect the paintings again?

While thinking about it, Benjamin took out a wad of 50-denomination notes: "Mr. Fanning, the old dung on the Pushor River really stinks... I counted a total of 21 notes here, 1,050 pounds. I I’m willing to pay you 300 pounds in tolls…and what do you think of the remaining banknotes as a bid for 5 paintings?”

"...? 150 pounds for a painting? Are you serious?" Fan Ning narrowed his eyes and looked at the former investigator, who turned out to be a thief and madman, with a trace of anger in his eyes.

Vincent's five oil paintings with such superb artistic attainments, this person wants to pack 750 pounds to buy them?

Regardless of whether this transaction actually occurred or not, just making this proposal...

Fan Ning gradually clenched his fists, and his blood pressure rose again.

"Huh? Wait..." Benjamin put the banknotes under his butt, then turned the wallet upside down, tapped it on his palm, and a dozen coins fell out.

Fan Ning also showed a friendly smile and gently placed five bundles of canvases on the road.

"Originally, considering that the conversation was quite productive, I thought about it and let it go, but now I feel-"

He took a few steps back, trotted, boosted, jumped up, and lifted his legs.

"Go to hell!" An afterimage flashed across the dark night, and Fan Ning's soles kicked hard on the trunk shell of the car!

There was a muffled "bang" sound, and the car that had already rushed halfway out and turned into a seesaw finally fell off the bridge together with Benjamin in the driver's seat!

"Plop--" The front of the car fell down into the darkness, and water splashed.

Fan Ning clapped his hands, lowered his head and bent down, picking up the scroll on the ground.

With the two girls covering their mouths in surprise, they walked towards their big, bumpy car without looking back.

"Stop looking, get in the car, go home, and go to sleep."

…

Next Monday, July 28th at 6pm.

It is already the normal time for employees in media industries such as newspapers and radio stations to get off work, but at this moment, art media of all sizes, centered on the imperial capital of Santa Ramburg, are preparing to prepare.

They were waiting for the telegram to be reprinted on the headlines of the leading imperial cultural critic, the "Tioline Cultural Weekly".

According to the established habits of previous years, the Summer Arts Festival concerts will officially go on sale on August 1, and the previous update of the "Tioline Cultural Weekly" will exclusively announce the detailed information of each concert.

They need to use this as a reference to write articles for their own media for follow-up reporting.

Not only first-tier media like Hoffmann Gramophone are waiting, but also those niche or special media are eager to try. For example, in the office of The Hustle, editor-in-chief Macaulay, wearing a jacket and a slicked-back hair, is sitting with his arms folded across his chest, staring at the telegraph in a trance.

The newspaper is good at making up and digging up gossip in the music industry, and "in-depth reporting" on failed music activities, music works and musicians.

In fact, editor-in-chief Macaulay still has a certain level of appreciation, but his extremely sharp and sarcastic words and pervasive gossip channels make many artists keep silent about him and avoid him if they can.

Many readers like this style, so The Hustle still firmly occupies the position of a second-tier art review media under the premise of lacking truly professional commentators.

At 6:30, the telegram was spit out from the machine, and Macaulay couldn't wait to take it and read it. As he read, his eyes stopped at a certain line, as if he shook his head in disbelief and confirmed it a few more times.

"The price of the St. Lenya Symphony Orchestra concert is three times higher than in previous years, and the VIP ticket price is set at 18 pounds?... Wow, are they going to charge according to the standards of first-line professional orchestras? Don Yetus is too restrained in his report? Even so, he doesn't add any personal comments?" Macaulay said to himself excitedly.

After scanning the Royal Academy of Music, he found that it was only 13 pounds, and confirmed that the prices of other symphony concerts were the same as in previous years. His eyes sparkled and he suddenly thought of a brilliant idea.

Make a report on the box office ranking forecast of the 913 Summer Art Festival! Be fast! News should focus on timeliness!

Extract information, brew wording, draft, proofread, typeset, print, and do it in one go. The prediction result of the St. Lenya Symphony Orchestra is the last, and it is accompanied by a sarcastic encouragement of "wait and see how the students of this school will enter the first-line profession through the premiere of new works."

Around nine o'clock in the evening, almost a dozen large and small media outlets finalized and sent out reports in different forms and with different emphases, trying their best to highlight this year's highlight. The only difference may be reflected in the wording.

Go home, sleep, wake up the next day, stretch lazily on the soft big bed, and then turn on the radio next to him.

Beep beep... beep beep...

Santa Rambah Daily Morning Radio... Hoffman Record Publishing Company, take you to listen to a little music before going out in the morning...

In the slight background noise and burrs, the string group ripples with sad broken chords, and a noble and sentimental violin melody sounds in the living room.

Macaulay only felt that this opening music was so beautiful that even his hair stood up.

Garden, rose, poetry, melancholy, elegance... All kinds of words poured into his mind like beans, but for a while he couldn't even organize any sentences.

Until the music suddenly weakened after a minute.

"Then what? I can't hear it clearly!" Macaulay grabbed the radio and put it to his ear.

"Oh, I'm dying. Is there something wrong with the person recording? Why did the sound suddenly become smaller?" He began to scratch his scalp anxiously.

In the last half minute of the radio broadcast, a sweet female voice sounded, and two paragraphs were slowly broadcast with the weakened background music:

"Young composer Carloen van Nin's "Violin Concerto in E Minor" will be premiered at 8 pm on August 21 at the St. Lenya Symphony Orchestra Concert of the Summer Art Festival under the command of the composer himself."

"The recording will be pre-sold on the spot in the hall after the performance. With the guest ticket stub, you can enjoy a 20% discount and come with a handwritten autograph by the composer and violinist. Please pay attention to the ticket information for details of the event."

------- Off topic-------

Thanks to Deacon Xingyun for his five consecutive monthly tickets~Thanks to Xianxianxianxianyu for his monthly tickets~