The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 323 Ch.322 Works Exhibition Area

‘The artist is silent, but his work speaks for him. ’

There are posters on the gray and white walls.

Above it is a landscape oil painting of weeping willows and lakeside.

Looking around, posters of all sizes were plastered all over the solemn and silent corridor. The gentlemen wearing top hats and the ladies holding satchels and holding folding fans slowly walked through the dewy art morning branches and headed into the venue while discussing.

When Randolph and Roland left the carriage, everything was different.

This place was different from the 'real West End' where people played every night - Roland guessed that there might be some unknown ritual maintained here, so that not only humans but also horses snorted much quieter.

Men and women try not to make inappropriate or disturbing noises, but they smile and nod when they meet acquaintances.

They were polite and courteous, like poor people tossing and turning over a cheap fish worth just a few pennies, even using multiple knives and forks - and they were able to avoid mentioning the weather, the country, and their expensive piece of money in their greetings. Pocket watch, but simply put it succinctly:

'best regard. ’

It was really an eye-opener for Roland.

If the people in the salon who had been with Cherry made Roland want to twist their heads off, then these now make Roland want to twist their heads off and put them back on again.

"This is not unnecessary."

Randolph seemed to see something on Roland's face.

It reminded him of his old self.

He doesn't really like these things.

‘Ah, look how soft the paint is made by the knife! The wicker is soft, the water waves are soft, and the sunset is soft! The whole picture is soft...'

'Yes, sir, but not as soft as a woman's breast. ’

That was the first time in his life that he was beaten by his father.

After the salon.

"This is the classiest place in London, I might say, Roland."

Sometimes the amount of money does not determine a person's character and morality, but if someone is disrespectful here, then he must have low morals, low character, no tutoring, and will be excluded from all circles.

"Let me teach you a few words, Roland."

Randolph took advantage of adjusting his collar and whispered:

"It's unbelievable! You are definitely favored by your benefactor!"

“It’s lines are so beautiful!”

"All colors become more vivid in it!"

Roland quite admired Randolph for saying these words in a calm tone.

"Use these to praise a work of art, or the artist who created it, or... the woman. Catch-all, Roland, catch-all."

Randolph patted him on the shoulder and stepped into the cold and silent corridor.

Elit Art Exhibition.

Several emblems hanging on the stone wall at the entrance show that this exhibition is protected and sponsored by many sects.

Holy Cross, Maelstrom, Private Alliance, Just Church.

Some male and female figures passing by nodded in greeting to Randolph, and some looked at Roland curiously, using their peripheral vision or "accidentally turning their heads."

People didn't walk in the corridor for long. When the gas lights became brighter and brighter, they officially entered the exhibition hall.

"To some ladies, you're a work of art."

Randolph joked.

There are more than just sculptures in the exhibition hall.

Paintings, or pianos, or even iron crafts that Roland couldn't understand. Some handwritten scores stored in glass cabinets, manuscripts of novelists, old-style dinner plates, and some art from other countries.

-

What do you know about art and wrenches?

"…explode?"

Roland:......

"Unfortunately, my understanding of human beings is limited to the memories of you and Su Yue."

-

Miss Nina's memory... I'm afraid she must be an artist, right?

"If you mean her mother found out when she was buzzing and had to argue that it was because her phone was vibrating...she can barely be considered an 'artist'."

"Behavioral."

Roland:? -

What's the meaning?

"It means, instead of mythologizing her, why don't you mythologise me?"

Roland pushed up the brim of his hat, took off his soft lambskin gloves, folded them slowly, and put them into his pocket.

"..."

"Pretending to be dead, right?"

It's not that the art is bad, it's that Randolph and Roland didn't appreciate their knowledge enough - if a person can't even distinguish the type of fragrance, how can you discuss the weight and tone with him, how can you talk in detail about the craftsmanship behind the brand, among other things What you are good at and the people you are facing.

A wealthy businessman who treasures tobacco, and an executive who breeds exotic species.

They came here to find out the reason for their unhappiness, just to collect some comments about Victor Sala, and asked a photographer to take photos, take them back, and tell him:

You are famous now.

Stay away from that damn white dirt!

"If it weren't for the sake of that rare object, I would never have come with you, Randolph."

"you will."

"I will not."

Randolph put one hand behind his back and leaned forward to look at the oil painting on the wall. In this silent venue, his voice could not be too loud: "...Sometimes what you say is completely different from what you do, Roland, this is not popular. "

"I'm already lovable enough, but I have to show some restraint...what do you think? Beatrice's brother."

Randolph: ...

Rolled his eyes.

"If you were mute, I think you would have more friends."

They turned around a few times, but Sara's work was nowhere to be seen.

So, I went to the person in charge of the venue and asked in a friendly manner. I asked Victor Sala's name and asked if his sculpture was not in the sculpture hall. Was it missing or put in another more important place?

When the person in charge heard the name 'Victor Sala', his expression became very strange.

——It's like a child who is under ten years old participates in an adult boxing competition and then asks his child whether he got the ranking and whether he hurt the person.

"That gentleman's 'masterpiece' is not here."

The person in charge originally wanted to say something weird, but suddenly he saw the colorful gems on Randolph's finger. After thinking about it, he decided to leave his 'humor' to his wife - at least the wife would not complain to his boss or hire him. A few young people who had nothing to do all day broke their legs.

She would only meet her lover secretly and lie about getting pregnant and claiming it was his.

Life is unpredictable, Senders.

impermanence of life.

The person in charge who failed in the shooting competition suppressed his desire to be sarcastic today, bowed slightly, and led Roland and Randolph to another hall.

one…

It was not a quiet hall, with laughter coming and going.

There, Randolph saw the work of Victor Sala at a glance.

A woman was crying with her face covered, her robe slipped off her shoulders.

Beside her legs, a confused boy was pulling her, looking up at her in confusion.

The sign reads:

"Creator: Victor Sala"

"childhood"

There were many people standing around and talking in low voices.

"I'm sorry, I want to know why Mr. Sara's works are in... like this..." Randolph looked around the narrow, dark and poorly lit exhibition hall - there are almost no waiters here, and the works do not need to be hung specially. fence.

Obviously, it is different from the previous exhibition hall.

"Ah, yes, he can only be here."

The person in charge said with a smile: "This place is just for these people, sir."

He said.

“If there is no real bad, how can we tell what is really good?”