Almighty painter

Chapter 1041 Bond's "True Love" (Part 2)
(5000 words, first update.)
“A person buys a work of art in the market for a very low price. After a long period of time, the value of the artwork increases many times over, and the buyer makes a lot of money as a result.”

"This is standard narrative logic."

Gu Weijing said, "It can be considered the underlying logic of any investment in an artwork."

"What happens when this logic evolves to its extreme?"

The young man asked.

“This logic has evolved to its extreme…” The sloth who was talking to him was clearly deep in thought. He pondered and said in a vague tone, “I think I know what you mean.”

"You mean 'Da Vinci', right?"

The manager replied, "Or rather, it's 'The Savior'."

“Yes, very perceptive.” Gu Weijing was surprised by Mr. Sloth’s quick reaction. “That’s exactly what I meant.”

"Art, very low price, very high price, almost every element in this template is the ultimate symbol, and all of them are reflected in this transaction."

"Art--"

"Leonardo da Vinci. It may be difficult to say who is the greatest painter in history, but Leonardo da Vinci is undoubtedly the most famous painter in the history of all of Europe. To some extent, he is the symbol of art."

"Mr. Sloth said."

"A very low price?" Gu Weijing chuckled.

"$50. This painting is said to have sold for $50 at a flea market."

"A very high price?"

"$5 million."

Yang Dekang took out his phone, took a picture of his new cage and his parrot, and posted it on the photo wall.

The conversation at this moment seemed just as harmonious as before.

In the program, the two engaged in a question-and-answer dialogue, their tacit understanding resembling that of male and female actors reciting lines in a stage play. However, compared to before, Yang Dekang could sense that there was more genuine emotion in their words.

"I bought a Leonardo da Vinci painting for $50 at a street stall, and then sold it at a world-shaking auction, setting a new record for the highest price ever paid for a work of art."

Gu Weijing chuckled.

"There's no more profitable deal than this."

Yes.

It perfectly embodies the image of the wealth dream that exists in the minds of all art market investors.

A person buys a painting at a very low price in the market, and then resells it for many times its original value. "Da Vinci," "$50," "$5 million"—any element in this story represents the ultimate manifestation of this get-rich-quick dream.

Leonardo da Vinci is a symbol of oil painting, and between the two transactions, his price increased ten million times.

This story is filled with restless passion for wealth. The protagonist of this story has never actually been Leonardo da Vinci; the protagonist is the dream of wealth.

It seems to be telling everyone that you only need to enter this market with money that even a beggar can afford, and as long as you find the right target, you can earn enough money to buy the entire Empire State Building.

Who wouldn't love such a myth?

“The painting is called ‘Salvator Mundi’,” the painter exclaimed. “It’s so symbolic that a painting about ‘Salvator Mundi’ has become a myth in itself, not a religious myth, but a commercial myth.”

"Come on, invest, buy. The art market is the promised land that God has given you. No matter what troubles you face, whether you want to pay off a loan, buy a sports car, buy a yacht, or go to the moon, your savior is waiting for you somewhere."

"How many people have gone bankrupt because of this unrealistic dream of getting rich? While such a dream brings wealth, it also constantly breeds tragedy."

Gu Weijing countered with a question.

"But you didn't."

Mr. Sloth pointed out the crux of the problem.

“Yes, I really didn’t. I’m someone who never drinks, but talking about it still makes me want to raise a glass.” The painter clapped the tip of his right hand against the palm of his left.

He clapped.

"I didn't. I was the lucky one."

“My agent, Miss Elena, had a great fondness for French literature, and Anna liked to tease me by mentioning ‘Balzac,’” Gu Weijing recalled. “The great writer Balzac was the kind of person who was obsessed with investing in strange and unusual art… if those dubious items recommended to him by middlemen in Paris could really be considered art… he ended up going bankrupt.”

At that moment, as if mocking Balzac, Mr. Sloth couldn't help but laugh twice.

"His house was full of junk, but he lived in his own world, thinking that he had gotten a bargain and made a fortune."

Gu Weijing said, "His own understanding and the realities of the outside world are completely different. In everyone's eyes, Balzac has bankrupted himself, but in Balzac's own little ledger, all those people are jealous of him, all those people want to harm him, and are envious of his art investments because his personal collection has surpassed that of the Palace of Versailles."

“Can I say… that this is a typical case?” Mr. Sloth said sharply, “There are really quite a few people like this.”

“But I am not.”

Gu Weijing said.

"In this kind of thing, perhaps only a small number of people can get rich, only a very small number of people can get extremely rich, and only 0.00001% of people can make astronomical sums of money. Balzac was the kind of person who went bankrupt, while I am the kind of person who made a fortune."

“I practically rewrote the story of ‘Salvator Mundi’ onto myself. There are very few people in this market who are as lucky as I am.”

Gu Weijing said.

“It doesn’t seem like a bad thing. Sometimes, you just have to be grateful for your good luck,” Mr. Sloth said softly. “Thank you, Carroll, and thank you for that painting, ‘The Old Church on a Thunderstorm.’”

"It seems——"

“Our Miss Elena would better use a completely new metaphor next time—”

"That's what the host said."

"I'm sorry, but I completely disagree with your point of view."

Gu Weijing said.

Mr. Sloth's words were interrupted, and the conversation stalled once again.

Old Yang pouted at his parrot, clearly annoyed by what he heard. "Isn't this kid just being hypocritical after getting the better deal?"

You are unhappy.

It's you, kid! You picked up Carol's precious treasure, and now you're suing Brother Yang for making things difficult!
Is there any justice or law in what you're saying?
How could such a nice young man say such cold and heartless words! If you feel this is a burden, if you feel unhappy—why can't you remember that there is always a caring older brother, Mr. Yang, by your side?

Feeling down? Go find Lao Yang!
The imposing and domineering Teacher Yang was never bothered by this kind of pointless anxiety.

The imposing and domineering Mr. Yang was happy to share Gu Weijing's troubles. Rest assured, he had a broad mind.

If it were the imposing and domineering Mr. Yang, he would already have a sports car and a small yacht. He would probably be posting on WeChat Moments, "Congratulations to Mr. Yang on acquiring a Titanic."

"IMHO."

A few seconds later, Mr. Sloth spoke again in the earpiece.

She was unhappy that she was interrupted.

This time, her tone wasn't as gentle as before.

“Humans cannot exist entirely detached from the material world, not even so-called ‘artists.’ I find it very difficult to understand your conclusion that finding the painting ‘The Old Church on a Thunderstorm’ is a bad thing,” Mr. Sloth said somewhat angrily.

"You have benefited a lot from being here."

"Are you going to deceive yourself, or do you share the same definition of 'good' and 'bad' as many others?"

The host rebuked sternly, "If this is considered a bad thing, then what do you define as a good thing? Many people in this industry have a fragile sense of melancholy, but to take it to the extreme is excessive. It will look...particularly pretentious."

Miss Elena herself is a particularly affected person. At this moment.

She couldn't stand the affected mannerisms of another person anymore.

"If we continue to talk about this in such a general way, all we'll get in the end is nothingness!" she commented sharply.

"well said!"

Yang Dekang let out a soothing hum, applauding Mr. Sloth.

comfortable!
People like Brother Gu shouldn't be spoiled; they need to be whipped hard.

He waved his short fingers like a conductor's baton, reaching into the gaps in the cage and swaying them from side to side.

"Crack, crack, crack..."

Old Yang stared at the big bird in the cage, threatening in his mind, "Will you sing for me or not? Will you sing for me or not? Will you sing for me or not?"

The big blue bird probably found it very annoying; one wonders if, in its dynamic vision, it mistook that finger for a writhing worm.

It seized the opportunity and pecked hard.

"Ow!"

Old Yang shouted out in a pinched voice.

The macaw turned its head to the side: See, now it's barking for the old man!

“I don’t think you fully understand what I’m saying,” Gu Weijing said. “I never intended to express that it was not worthwhile for me to buy ‘The Old Church on a Thunderstorm’ for such a small amount of money, or that it was a bad thing. Or that it was unfair that I was allowed to buy this painting.”

"That was not what I meant."

"That's a strange way to put it. Of course it's a good thing. My career development and my life have benefited greatly from this process. No one can deny that."

Gu Weijing said.

"I'm trying to express a different feeling. You said Miss Elena needs to use a different metaphor next time, no, I brought this up to express that Balzac? So far, it's been a very apt metaphor."

"You don't mind?" Mr. Sloth asked.

"As long as Balzac doesn't mind, I shouldn't mind."

Gu Weijing replied.

“Balzac and I are no different…” Gu Weijing said with a hint of self-deprecation, “When I first read Balzac’s articles during my student days, I never imagined that one day I would say such a thing on a certain occasion, not out of arrogance or a desire to curry favor.”

"Balzac and I are no different."

"When it comes to writing articles, we may be very different, but when it comes to investing in art, I am no different from Balzac."

Gu Weijing repeated it once again.

Anna always used metaphors exceptionally well.

“Balzac’s investment was a failure, while you are a success, or as you would say, one of the lucky 0.00001%,” Mr. Sloth pointed out the obvious difference between the two.

"That's a difference in the coats."

Gu Weijing said.

"It's the difference between wearing a cheap coat and wearing a $4 coat; it's the difference between wearing the clothes of a successful person and the clothes of a loser."

"This is like sailing."

"During the Age of Exploration, ships often perished one after another. Columbus misconducted the conversion between the Greek 'mile' and the 'mile' used in the secondary documents translated by Arabs. He miscalculated the distance required for the voyage by more than half. With an incorrect nautical chart, a wrong destination, and wrong expectations, he set off in a completely confused state. Until the day he died, he firmly declared that he had reached India."

"If it weren't for the fact that there happened to be a continent called America in the middle of the ocean, Columbus would almost certainly have died at sea."

"From the perspective of a human being, is he any different from those captains who died?"

"Let me give you another example."

"When Magellan began his circumnavigation, he had five ships and several hundred people. On the return journey, four of the five ships had sunk, leaving only eighteen people. Did you happen to be one of those eighteen people, or did you happen to be on a ship that sank in a storm? What is the biggest difference between these two situations?"

"What defines who you are? Is it where you actually arrive, or the act of setting out?" Gu Weijing countered.

"What exactly are you trying to say? What does this have to do with Balzac?" Mr. Sloth asked.

"What I mean is that the outcome itself may be uncontrollable. There is a river in front of you. You may be able to jump across it, or you may not. Who you are is determined the moment you decide to jump, and it does not change because of the outcome."

"Because you can't control the outcome, you can only control your own behavior, and that's what truly represents you."

"In Balzac's worldview, Balzac never felt that he had been deceived. He believed that he was a superb connoisseur and that he had a discerning eye that others did not have. Therefore, those who said that he was a collector of junk were the real swindlers who were preventing him from getting rich."

"You know what? That's what I think too."

Gu Weijing said.

"It's possible that I couldn't recognize the original painting, 'The Old Church on a Thunderstorm,' or that the forger's skills were so sophisticated that they fooled me. It's also possible that the painting wasn't painted by Ms. K."

“Until that day at the Singapore Opera, I knew nothing about the Elena family. I also had no idea how the conversation would go.”

"You may have heard that my first meeting with Anna didn't end well. To put it mildly, it was very unpleasant. According to Anna herself, she wanted to smash the coffee pot she was holding over my head. And I've always had a fear of that... Someone warned me to be careful. And for that whole week, I kept thinking that Miss Elena wanted to personally host that conversation because she really wanted to mess with me."

"Uh—is that so?"

"Mr. Sloth said."

"I think you're imagining Miss Elena to be a bit too strict. She even gave you a dress, didn't she?"

"At that time, I didn't really know her at all. To me, wearing that outfit made me feel a hundred times more sophisticated. But how could I know that Anna wasn't just handing me a red nose so she could laugh at me even louder later?"

"Until the very first moment of the conversation, I didn't know whether I would become the clown or the 'hero' when the curtain fell."

“Fine, say what you want,” said Mr. Sloth.

"If Anna had really given me a thorough dressing-down that day, what would be the difference between me and Balzac?"

Mr. Sloth did not speak again.

"Let's go back to that 'Salvator Mundi' painting. Look, forget about the Louvre, the stuff there isn't good enough. Look at mine, I have an original by Leonardo da Vinci, it's top-notch. If you want to buy it, we're good friends, I'll give you a discount."

"Wow!"

Gu Weijing said, “You will find that ‘Salvator Mundi’ tells just such a story. But doesn’t it sound a little familiar? Who else is telling such a story? Hmm, back then, in the Paris art market, weren’t those strange middlemen telling Balzac the exact same story?”

"Balzac believed it."

"He was absolutely convinced of it."

"The funniest part is that, so far, there seems to be no irrefutable, conclusive evidence that can definitively prove that 'Salvator Mundi' is an authentic work by Leonardo da Vinci. We can only say... it's in doubt. One group believes it was painted by Leonardo da Vinci. Another group believes it was painted by one of his students, and yet another group thinks it's a complete forgery."

"The three groups are still arguing fiercely with each other."

Gu Weijing said helplessly.

"I don't want to argue here about the authenticity or provenance of 'Salvator Mundi,' as there are experts and scholars who are more authoritative and qualified than I to comment on that. I just want to say that when the authenticity of 'Salvator Mundi' is in doubt and it's in a Schrödinger's cat state..."

"So, is there any decisive difference between this event itself and the story of Balzac?"

"It seems easy for us to conclude... that there is no difference between the two."

"It's simply a matter of one ship sinking in a storm and the other succeeding, or claiming to have succeeded."

(End of this chapter)