Almighty painter

Chapter 1029 I...I am the most suitable collaborator!
"If I had to pick out one painting from all of Gu Weijing's works that isn't boring, it would be 'Human Noise'."

There wasn't a trace of sarcasm in Tang Ning's tone.

“It’s a good enough work. Even though it’s old-fashioned Impressionism, even though I think Impressionism these days is something a bunch of very boring, hairy white middle-class housewives play with, even though…” The female painter shook her head, “but… anyway, that painting is not boring at all.”

She reiterated this point for the third time today.

“If it were ‘The Noise of Humanity’ that sold for a million pounds today… I wouldn’t say a word, and I wouldn’t have made this call,” Downing said. “In that moment—I saw in him the shadow of a great artist. To see such a work—is an honor.”

On the contrary, Yang Dekang was caught off guard.

He didn't know what to say.

These words... were actually spoken by Tang Ning, the same Miss Tang who had just jumped up and stomped on Gu Weijing, with a heart as high as the sky?
It's like it's been possessed by something.

Yang Dekang suddenly remembered that Tang Ning, with her lively and energetic personality, was just like Anna, the kind of person who would seize any opportunity to make a fuss and criticize everything.

She came to Singapore in a fit of anger and resentment.

Old Yang thought she was definitely going to cause some trouble, but in the latter half of the Singapore art exhibition, including when Cao Xuan was taking on apprentices, things didn't go as planned.

Tang Ning didn't say anything.

She may have appeared unhappy, but she didn't actually say anything.

Yang Dekang initially thought Tang Ning knew that Old Cao had already made up his mind, so she chose to remain patient for the time being. Now, thinking back, patience was not in Tang Ning's nature at all. Perhaps there were other reasons why she didn't step forward to criticize Gu Weijing.

"But—I only saw the shadow of a great artist in Gu Weijing for a moment."

"It was a fleeting spark, so fast it was almost an illusion." Tang Ning then sneered, "After that, he became a bored little kid again, going around saying 'Ahhh, I'm so sad,' 'Ahhh, I'm in so much pain.'"

"He has absolutely no spiritual attributes!"

Tang Ning said sarcastically.

"Weak, fragile, conflicted!"

"Technique alone isn't enough. Cao Xuan's last disciple, Miss Elena's contracted painter—is good technique all it takes? How can someone so boring...? More importantly..."

"How can someone not possess even the slightest indestructible mental attribute!"

Old Yang finally breathed a sigh of relief.

As expected of you, Ms. Tang, this is truly your style.

“I don’t think the collaboration between Gu Weijing and Miss Elena is a good one—for both of them. Not only do I think Gu Weijing is not the best choice for the Elena family, but I also think Anna Elena is not the best choice for Gu Weijing.”

"Cooperation represents a two-way relationship. If the shoes don't fit properly, both the shoes and the feet will feel uncomfortable. The toes will feel cramped, and the shoe will stretch. Similarly, an unsuitable cooperative relationship is a torment for both parties."

"Could it be... that you're saying there's a better collaborator than Miss Elena?"

"Have."

Tang Ning paused, then said mysteriously, "Moreover, this person is both far away and right in front of us."

Old Yang was stunned.

Then, he blinked rapidly.

What should I do if I'm a little touched! It turns out that this steady and mature uncle of hers actually holds such an important place in Ms. Tang's heart.

Honestly, really... Yang Dekang really didn't know what to say. Even someone as good at showing off as Lao Yang felt that he couldn't quite pull it off.

Old Yang has the courage to challenge any gallery's marketing director or any seasoned agent who wields considerable influence in the industry.

The problem is Anna Elena—he simply can't poach her.

Fully armed, wearing a Rolex and carrying a bucket of fried chicken, Yang Dekang fiercely attacks with the demeanor of a domineering CEO. He happens to encounter Miss Elena, who is passing by in a wheelchair with her hands behind her back. Despite his best efforts, he cannot defeat her and is mercilessly crushed by her little finger.

seriously.

He accepted it.

He lost neither unjustly nor aggrievedly. It's one thing for two novices to fight each other in the boxing ring, but it's even more infuriating to discover that the opponent is secretly playing dirty tricks. But what if the opponent is a superman whose eyes used to shoot out heat rays?

Ugh.

If we lose, we lose.

Instead of fighting, why not go over and take a group photo, post it on social media, and get some likes?

It wasn't Yang Dekang's fault that he lost to international friends from Krypton; it was like a historic band like the Rolling Stones encountering the Beatles at their peak.

Although defeated, it is still glorious.

Who knows, when he writes his memoirs as "Yang Dekang, the Industry Giant," he might even be able to show off a little.

From the very beginning, Yang Dekang never intended to compete with Miss Elena. He simply couldn't compete with her; he couldn't even imagine any way he was better than her.

did not expect.

Tang Ning actually felt indignant on his behalf.

Even the dignified Mr. Yang blushed a little at this boasting.

"Really? You really...think that way? That's really, really..." Old Yang scratched his face sheepishly, trying to find the right words.

“That’s right. It’s me,” he heard Tang Ning say.

“I am the better one,” the female painter said seriously.

Yang Dekang was completely stunned.

He stared blankly at the receiver of the phone in his hand—he was deeply shocked.

When Mr. Yang first entered the world of pretentiousness, wearing an oil-waxed jacket and holding a copy of Keats's poetry, he thought he was a once-in-a-century genius in the world of pretentiousness, and that he was going to dominate the industry with his flamboyance.

did not expect.

Yang Dekang isn't truly invincible. Because... there's still Brother Gu in this world.

On that very day.

Standing at the peak, Teacher Yang suddenly looked back and saw Gu Tongxiang, with a white scarf around his neck and Hemingway under his arm, riding the waves to the music of "Waves rush, waves flow, waves surge".

Yang Dekang laughed heartily, looking up at the sky.

He turned around.

With her sleeves billowing, she strode confidently toward Gu Tongxiang.

He met Gu Tongxiang, much like Sherlock Holmes met James Moriarty, Simon Chuixue met Ye Gucheng, and Little Pig McDull met Fish Ball Noodles.

This is an unparalleled battle between supreme beings.

War! War! War! War!

Let's fight to the death. The domineering CEO and the tender-hearted tough guy are clashing, as are the melancholy poet and the profound fisherman.

From Singapore to Hamburg, then to London, and finally to Abu Dhabi.

From a grumpy cat in front of a canvas in a London park to a long trail of dust trails left by an SUV in the desert of Dubai, UAE.

A large gold watch paired with a white scarf, a stiff, waxed jacket paired with a sharp three-piece suit; Keats ended his long slumber and awoke in a Protestant cemetery in Rome, where he encountered Hemingway crawling out of Callum Cemetery in Edward Island.

"Brilliant Star" and "Old Man Dreaming of Lion" twinkle in the midst of their battle.

Originally, this battle might have continued until the day when the Great Dao was obliterated.

But now.

Hearing Tang Ning's words, Old Yang felt ashamed of himself.

Lost.

We really lost.

The vision is still too narrow.

He thought he and Lao Gu were invincible, and no one expected them to have a decisive battle at the top of the Purple Robe.

There are actually experts here.

Whose infantry is this, so fierce?

This is... such a show-off! With that kind of attitude, there wouldn't be a single cow left in the Northern Hemisphere; they'd all be flying in the sky.

"You do not believe?"

Tang Ning asked with a smile.

“If Ms. Tang wants to be an agent, she’ll definitely be better than me… Well, I really think that apart from the two of them, it would be difficult for anyone else to make the situation better than it is now.” Yang Dekang decided to tell the truth.

He really didn't believe it.

There's a limit to flattery, and it needs to be based on real-life examples. You can boast a bit, like saying you run faster than Usain Bolt, but you can't say you run faster than a jet.

Just like saying "Gu Weijing is not suitable, you are suitable" is sarcastic rather than a compliment.

If a stranger came up to Lao Yang and said, "Miss Elena is not a good agent, you would definitely do a better job if you took her place."

Old Yang suspected that the other person was cursing him behind his back.

"Could you have made the Maes Gallery spend so many resources and postpone it time and time again to hold an exhibition for Gu Weijing at the Louvre Abu Dhabi? Could you have made one of Gu Weijing's paintings sell for millions of pounds?"

It's very difficult.

This goes far beyond the reasons inherent in art itself.

Tang Ning felt that "Human Noise" reminded her of a great painter for a moment, while "Night Rhapsody" was boring and petty; the two paintings were completely different.

But that wealthy collector would be willing to spend £1 million and 101,000, a record price, to buy the highlight of Miss Elena and Gu Weijing's first joint exhibition, "Night Rhapsody," but he wouldn't spend that price to even glance at "Human Noise."

None of this would have happened without Anna.

Even if Gu Weijing's painting "Human Noise" really won the gold medal, it would probably only be worth around $50,000, or, to be more daring, maybe $100,000 at most.

Tang Ning remained silent.

Tang Ning simply let out a mocking sneer through her nose.

"Vulgar?"

Yang Dekang understood the refined meaning behind the music.

"Correct."

Tang Ning congratulated Lao Yang on having learned how to answer questions quickly.

“Not everything in this world is related to money, Yang Dekang. I’ve always known you’re a truly intelligent person, that you could become my teacher’s assistant. When you stop being so slick, perhaps your achievements will be much greater than they are now.”

Yang Dekang listened.

“For Gu Weijing, Miss Elena is someone he can sell for a million pounds. You’re right, only the two of them can do this, no one else can replace her.”

"The problem lies in—meaning. Where does the meaning lie?"

“One million pounds seems like a lot. I don’t know the details of the contract, so let’s assume it’s 30%. The Hermès Gallery took 300,000 pounds, so even if the rest is split in half, each of them would get 300,000 pounds.”

“What’s the point of £300,000? Do you believe Miss Elena became Gu Weijing’s agent for £300,000? Regardless of what outsiders think or say, I’m even willing to believe that Gu Weijing… he didn’t become Miss Elena’s ‘painter’ for £300,000.”

"They don't even know what they want."

Tang Ning said.

“Even if we just talk about money. If Miss Elena wants a new artist whose work can sell for £100 million within three years, then Miss Elena should look for Gu Weijing. If Miss Elena wants a Picasso whose work can sell for £3 million in thirty years, then Gu Weijing is completely unsuitable.”

"She should come to me."

“Gu Weijing wants a gallery and agent to work with, to hold exhibitions in top museums, and to sell his first exhibition for millions of pounds. He should work with Anna. But if… what Gu Weijing wants is to reach the ‘great,’ then Anna Elena is completely unsuitable.”

"He should come to me too."

"What he needs is not to win, but to lose; what he needs is not smooth sailing, but one setback after another."

"For someone full of ambition, boundless desire, and intense passion, being in Gu Weijing's position is paradise. No matter how big the stage is, they will become the most dazzling person on it. The bigger the stage, the better. Gu Weijing is too easily satisfied."

“What he needs is for you to keep pushing him, to force him to make a choice, to make him have to face himself. Do you remember what my teacher said? He asked him why he picked up a paintbrush in the first place, and Gu Weijing said it was because his dream was to make his grandfather proud and to make his family live a good life.”

"very good."

"Perhaps he thought he would fight for this dream his whole life, but the 'cruel' reality was different from what he imagined. He hadn't even graduated from university yet when he held his first art exhibition. When he looked back, he found that all his dreams had already come true."

"That's... cruel."

Old Yang licked his lips.

I never realized before that Downing has such a talent for deadpan comedy.

“I’m really not joking or being sarcastic. This is the reality Gu Weijing is facing. He’s only in his early twenties, and he’s already had a solo exhibition in a major art museum, with the price of a single painting entering the top 100 in history. The path that the most successful painters take a lifetime to complete, he’s completed in one exhibition. The moment he signed the agency contract with Anna Elena, he had already completed it all.”

"Even if he just coasts through life, he can still provide a good life for his whole family. As an elder, how could his grandfather not be proud of him?"

"What's the point of painting someone like that?"

Tang Ning smiled.

"Of course it's just 'Ahhh, I'm so lost, ahhh, I'm so empty, ahhh.' This is a kind of disguised post-success depression. He can only go somewhere to study his penmanship."

"Gu Weijing's painting career has taken another amazing start, but it's getting more and more boring, and that's the reason. Believe me, if this collaboration continues, he'll only get more and more bored."

(End of this chapter)