Almighty painter

Chapter 883: The Second Meeting of the Two Has a Lion-like Ending (Part )

"I stared at him. He was fifteen years old, one of the oldest people in the orphanage, but he looked thin and small, with spots on his face and yellow eyes."

"I stared at him, and he stared at me, his eyes rough, his teeth gnashing, mixed with a hint of empty, helpless despair."

"We were all silent."

Gu Weijing recalled the feeling at that time.

The child was about fifteen or sixteen years old, with the body of a thirteen or fourteen-year-old, the skin and demeanor of a twenty-something, and eyes that made it hard to tell how old he was.

"You feel that kind of emptiness is like that of an old man who is dying and has not much time left. You feel that kind of confusion is like that of a baby who knows nothing, a very, very, very small child."

"You are such a scumbag," this sentence almost slipped out of my mouth. At that moment, I suddenly asked myself another question. How many times has he heard similar words since he was a child?"

"Scum, scum, hooligan, thief, bitch, social scum, bad boy, Loser, Son of a Bitch..."

Gu Weijing spat out insulting words one after another.

He stood by the door frame, facing Miss Elena who was looking out the window.

He threw those words into the conversation without a trace of worldly air.

The absence of worldly touches does not mean that the meaning of the word itself has been taken away and become illusory and vague.

But there is no smoke.

No anger either.

It is not like smoke that is scattered and ethereal, nor like flames that are noisy and boiling. They are freed from the meaning of moral judgment and exist simply because they exist.

“Son of a Bitch.”

Anna listened to this word that rarely appeared in the conversations around women, as well as the Southeast Asian slang that she could not understand at all.

Don't understand and understand.

After those words were spoken by Gu Weijing, they neither rose nor fell. They seemed to be stagnant in the air with the same density as air, surrounding this dressing room and exuding a unique atmosphere.

The wind flowed in and out through the gaps in the window, while the moisture from the sea stayed there.

Miss Elena felt this taste.

It grabbed the woman's estranged thoughts.

It comes from the authentic flavor of language.

Anna thought that there was a kind of argument in the artistic tradition that was about the religious nature of language itself. The ancient worship of language existed in the myths and legends of many nations, and it was believed that language was the medium for communication between humans and gods, and between humans and nature.

That is to say,

"Spell".

Wizards or shamans waved their staffs and chanted spells devoutly, and then the power of nature emerged from the void.

In the words that the young man retold, after the mundane air was removed, such power also descended.

There was no huge fireball condensing from the air and hitting anyone's face, and there was no sudden storm with lightning and thunder outside the window.

Power is exerted upon destiny.

It is a shuttle that travels through the spinning wheels held by the three goddesses of fate.

The witch of fate kissed Sleeping Beauty's forehead and said to the king's newborn princess that she would be the most beautiful princess in the world.

In a corner of society, in a dilapidated orphanage, the witch of fate placed a skinny little child on the steps.

She said gently.

"You are a son of a bitch."

It is both a statement of the past and a prediction of the future.

"These words have been around his ears since he was a child. In a difficult country, it is very difficult to have a quiet, poor but peaceful life in an orphanage in a slum in a chaotic area. He is really not a good child, so he must have heard too many similar words."

"He's completely bought into the term. He's completely bought into the definition."

"He was very angry and hated the world and his own future. He was also very confused. He didn't care what society thought of him, what other people thought of him, or anything else. He didn't even care if he would die at the age of 20."

"The moment he stretched out his hand, all he could think of was a moment of numb excitement. I believe he knew what I was going to say. He knew I was going to hit him, I was going to scold him, and I was going to tell him to get out."

"But he doesn't care about anything. What else can I do?"

"What a tragedy." said Gu Weijing.

"Isn't it? His whole life is shrouded in such a haze. His life has such a background. I don't need to paint shadows on such a background."

Gu Weijing finished telling the story.

"Ms. Elena, I have always been angry. I think what you said is very good and has taught me a lot. Anger is power."

"In nature, many animals will run away when they hear noises that frighten them, but lions are the only ones that will bravely pounce on hunters with guns when their territory is invaded. They are willing to face it head-on, and that is a virtue."

"You see, that's the problem. If there's a piece of bloody meat on the African savannah, whether it's human, antelope, rhino, zebra or anything else, any animal that eats meat by nature will pounce on it."

"Vultures eat people, wild dogs eat people, crocodiles eat people, lions also eat people... This is the nature of survival. How can such a monotonous thing be considered a virtue?"

"The virtue of a lion is not to eat people, but to be willing to pounce on the hunter's gun. Therefore, eating meat until the fat overflows and chewing it until it squeaks is not a virtue. Being willing to be different, willing to bravely bear the continuation of life and maintain the territory of life is a virtue, and it is a wild and majestic heart."

Gu Weijing said: "That should be the difference between a real lion and a fake lion."

"This is a biennial art competition, and Cui Xiaoming painted a work that is actually pretty good. Maybe he painted that work to snipe me. The exhibition is very important to me, so I am not so tolerant as to want to inspire my competitors, but the facts on the surface are like this. In terms of the similarity of the content of the works themselves, the similarity between us is not higher than that between many famous artists. It is not higher than the similarity between many of Picasso's paintings and African folk paintings."

"Someone might want to gossip, Alexander, and use a 'lion' like you to eat me up. If I found Carol's painting today, if I just want to thank the Irina family for helping me, then please help me eat him up."

"Then what's the difference between what I did and what Alexander did? This is why I didn't speak to you today."

Gu Weijing thought back to half a year ago.

He stood in front of the wall, facing the mural with outlines on it.

Maybe for a moment he wondered if there was something wrong with the painting being assigned to him, but such a beautiful work attracted him.

A magnet attracts iron powder.

A good work of art will also firmly capture the artist's heart and soul.

He ignored the possible trickery involved and picked up the paintbrush involuntarily according to the instructions in the task manual.

He moved Mr. Cao's painting.

But Mr. Cao did not blame him.

"This is the task assignment sheet sent to me. I am confident that I can draw the best. I believe this is the most perfect presentation of the mural in front of me." Yes, that's right. Gu Weijing had no experience. He was a newcomer who dealt with such a thing for the first time. No one had ever told him the rules.

correct.

Gu Weijing achieved very good results. He was still right.

Gu Weijing has a thousand or ten thousand reasons to explain his behavior.

But at the end of the day.

The only reason why he can get to where he is today is that that day, Mr. Cao, as the person in charge of the painting, did not blame him.

Gu Weijing really didn’t understand it before. He thought the system was awesome. He believed that if something could be done well, it must be done to the best of its ability, and if something could be repaired, it must be repaired to the best of its ability. This was respect for the work of art.

In the end, he also received praise from Cao Xuan.

This seemed to be proof that "he was really awesome". He was a natural archer. He drew his bow and arrow, and with the help of the system, he easily shot an arrow through the bull's eye of the target.

to today.

After experiencing so many things during this period, Gu Weijing slowly understood some things.

The way the world works has never been about taking tests.

Even if the essence of this world is really like taking a test, the way to take a test is definitely not as simple as writing an answer behind a question mark.

He took the standard answers given by the system and mistakenly thought that he was invincible and that he got 100 points in the exam only because he answered the questions well.

not like this.

The result is of course important, but the process is equally important.

Thinking back to that day now, Gu Weijing still feels a little scared. He made a lot of immature, naive, even ignorant and wrong decisions that day.

It was a vicious trap.

When Gu Weijing picked up the paintbrush, he had already fallen into a trap set by others.

Looking back now, Gu Weijing felt that he could not be accepted. He felt that he was really ridiculous, just like the mistakes that young people often make, that they were ignorant of the immensity of the world.

"I am responsible for this painting. I know how to paint it best."

Outrageous.

Who is he, how old is he, what qualifications does he have to claim that he is responsible for that painting.

This statement itself is completely untrue.

What Gu Weijing said was extremely wrong and extremely irresponsible. The local relevant departments are responsible for the restoration project, and Cao Xuan is the first person in charge of the painting. Does Gu Weijing have the qualifications to say this? No matter what the inside story is, he is just showing off with other people's works.

What Mr. Cao said is absolutely right.

Such murals are the crystallization of the wisdom of our predecessors, and are painted by local painters with their lifelong efforts, stroke by stroke.

In front of these pictures, even a centenarian like Cao Xuan is just a junior.

Gu Weijing is really nothing.

Why did he say that he believed he could mix the best colors? Just based on his own artistic taste? Even if he really believed, he should have made it clear to the person in charge of the project... This is the rule, and all rules exist for a reason.

There are no such hard and fast rules on the task board.

It is allowed to mix the most suitable pigments, with only general color block labels, but this general standard is likely to be the optimal result agreed upon by local and international painters in so many projects.

The so-called room for development.

It is not for a little odd-job kid who is doing an "internship".

Gu Weijing was completely unaware of these things.

He was too young, and when he saw the words "standard answer" written on the system, he couldn't wait to fill it in.

Gu Weijing was able to climb out of the pit safely that day.

It was never because he pretended to be a great expert, nor because Gu Weijing restored the murals to the best of his ability, nor because he was very self-aware and did not touch those parts that he was not sure of.

It was just because Cao Xuan didn't step on him to death when he could have done so. Instead, he thought about it. Finally, the old man leaned down, reached out to pull the child out of the pit, touched his head, and then covered it behind himself.

A top master, faced with a young man in a foreign country whom he had never met before, was so brave as to touch his paintings.

Can't draw well.

Cao Xuan will take the blame, and people will say that he is the person responsible for this painting.

Good painting.

Cao Xuan still had to take the blame. People would say that such a great master was not even as good as a child. Gu Weijing was trying to gain attention by stepping on Cao's face.

What the hell is this?

No matter whether the painting was good or not, Cao Xuan could hit him on the head with his cane on the spot, walk away, and let him deal with the mess himself.

No.

He really just needed to curse once, and that was it.

But at the beginning of the project, this old man repeatedly emphasized that people can come here to gild their resumes and gain internship experience, but he will not tolerate any behavior that makes him feel disrespectful to the hard work of senior craftsmen.

Faced with that situation.

He just taught Gu Weijing in a stern voice what to do next time he encountered such a situation.

Then he patted him on the shoulder and said, "Well done! You are a young genius, better than me." Then he picked up the paintbrush and took all the responsibility.

Some things, when they first happened, he just thought they were normal.

Look back after a while.

But I found that he was standing in the sun.

Gu Weijing, out of youthful recklessness, shot an arrow randomly into the sky. Cao Xuan gently caught the arrow, walked over with his crutches, stuck the arrow on the target, and then left quietly.

This kind of warmth always keeps him warm.

"Ms. Elena, the light in a painting is not just in the painting. If it can illuminate people's hearts, it is the real light and warmth, no matter if it lasts for a few months, a year, ten years, or twenty-two years. This is the power of art."

Gu Weijing said softly.

“This is the power of art.”

"You know, Editor Elena, when I said you made a good analogy, it wasn't a compliment. I just thought it was really strange. I grew up reading Oil Painting magazine, and it's the most important magazine in the entire history of art."

"And such a truth... is something that I have to teach you."

"I come from a relatively poor place, and you are the art director of Oil Painting magazine."

(End of this chapter)