Almighty painter

Chapter 891 Confrontation
"Oh! No."

"Keats said--"

"Don't go to the River of Oblivion, don't drink from the Black Spring. Don't mistake poison for wine!"

……

"Your sad soul, don't let the insidious night owl accompany the inexplicable sorrow in your heart!"

"Shadows superimposed on shadows only create chaos."

"Extreme distress will eventually drag the awake soul into the dusk—"

"But I said, at the end of the story, when the hot waves hit the shore, you just need to look deeply, deeply into your own eyes."

"The truth will finally come out!"

“——Written by Edward Yang in front of the Esplanade in Singapore in the summer of 2017, inspired by an interview with Oil Painting magazine.”

Click!

Lao Yang held up his cell phone, staring at the point where the sea and sky met in the distance at a 45-degree angle, raised his head hard to hide his double chin, and pressed the selfie button.

This completes the last photo in this set of nine-grid photos.

He clicked send.

Old Yang was happily refreshing his circle of friends, watching the number of likes on his social media account begin to increase and the cheers of "Teacher Yang is awesome!"

I successfully pretended to be awesome.

Old Yang puffed out his cheeks, as if he was chewing invisible and intangible spiritual potato chips in the air.

"Oh! No! Oh! No! Oh... No...!"

Old Yang was grinning and humming softly, with a feeling quite like the fierce Zhang Fei singing Yu Ji's sad song in front of Overlord's tent. He sang "On, No!" in such a circuitous and rhythmic way that if he were to boo others in the theater, he must be an expert at it.

Lao Yang feels that he is really a melancholy and sentimental young poet.

If someone like Xu Zhimo were born in this era, he might only be able to call himself "Xiao Yang".

"Om."

After refreshing again, a prompt popped up on the mobile page, saying that a user I paid special attention to had just updated his social account.

"Liu Ziming".

Lao Yang stopped swaying his body.

He paused to appreciate the replies that liked his posts and shouted “Teacher Yang 666”, and prepared to click in, like his posts and shout “Brother Liu 666”.

Lao Yang refreshed his phone, looked at the message sent by Liu Ziming, and casually edited his reply.

and many more.

His movements slowed.

The cowboy in my heart seemed to smell something different.

Old Yang's eyes rolled around for a few times, and he suddenly realized that the social account was actually Liu Ziming forwarding someone else's message.

"Yes, Lion."

"A powerful and graceful creature."

"Hemingway said that injured lions are one of the most terrifying creatures in the world. They will lie flat and hide in one place. You would think that even a rabbit cannot hide behind the bushes. But once someone enters their territory, they will pounce on the person without making a sound if they feel violated."

"And I said, however, a young lion is also like a wounded lion."

"They are young and fearless."

"It is a privilege for young Leos to create sparks with countless people."

"——Written by Gu Tongxiang in the summer of 2017, in the Opera House of Esplanade, inspired by an interview with Oil Painting magazine."

While chatting and laughing, Old Yang easily devoured Cui Xuanyou and his son.

His expression suddenly changed.

The man's face turned serious as he looked at the set of nine-grid photos sent by Liu Ziming.

In the photo, Liu Ziming is seen holding Gu Weijing's shoulders and making a rare V-sign. The smile on the man's face is light and pure, which completely fails to reveal that in Lao Yang's opinion, Liu Ziming has always been a distant and cold person.

Liu Ziming also laughs every day.

So many years.

Old Yang understood very well.

Most of the time, Mr. Liu had a mocking, cynical smile on his face looking at the world, which was different from the smile of Liu Ziming that appeared in the photo now.

They are all called smiles.

They are all the same muscle movements of slightly pursing the corners of the mouth.

They are definitely not the same thing.

Lao Yang slid his finger to one side and clicked on another photo with a serious expression. It was a photo of Liu Ziming and a man who was wearing a decent three-piece suit like himself.

An old man about sixty-five years old.

The forehead is bald.

The few strands of hair she had were proudly combed into a fluffy style. She looked towards the camera with one hand on Liu Ziming's shoulder, a slight smile on her lips.

Old Yang's heart was deeply touched again.

Damn it!

The intimate attitude of Liu Ziming in the photo cannot be faked. It is a manifestation of his acceptance of someone from the bottom of his heart.

The old man next to him looked at the camera with a smile.

The smile was unfathomable.

Old Yang knew who that was, it was Gu Weijing’s grandfather, Gu Tongxiang.

Old Yang stared at the old man in the photo for a long time. He didn't have much contact with Gu Tongxiang, and in his impression he was just a taciturn old man.

It’s hard to say.

Very strange.

It roughly looks like an iceberg, but it vaguely feels like a not very heavy iceberg. Have you ever seen an iceberg that looks like a mirage? In Lao Yang's eyes, it feels about the same.

Virtual and real.

Real and empty.

unpredictable.

Since the other party is Gu Weijing's grandfather, no matter whether it is true or false, that person is someone that Lao Yang's small yacht will never collide with.

So it is true or false.

There is no need to explore too much, so Lao Yang did not have much personal interaction with Gu Tongxiang.

It was only after arriving in Singapore that he heard from Gu Weijing about the other party’s grandfather’s other side—the dashing man who held a book of Hemingway, played Shanghai on the radio, wore a white scarf around his neck, and drove an eight-cylinder Lexus through the streets.

Just by hearing the appearance, he felt that Xiao Gu's grandfather could be considered a figure.

Until this moment when the post forwarded by Liu Ziming appeared in front of me.

Old Yang just realized it.

He had overestimated this old man as much as possible, but he didn't expect that... he still underestimated him after all?
Yang Dekang stood there in a daze.

After a while.

He locked his phone's screen and held it in his hand.

The curved edge of the phone rested against his palm, and it felt warm and smooth to the touch.

Cao Xuan's personal assistant stood there, holding Gu Tongxiang's photo tightly, as if he was holding a bucket of Lays potato chips that could ultimately only belong to one person.

“What a master.”

Old Yang said softly to himself.

But there always comes a time like this in life, doesn’t it?
When masters duel, swords clash, sparks fly, and the true qualities of men are revealed.

There can only be one Little Mago in the world!

Old Yang smiled.

He tightened his stomach, held his head high, and adjusted his formal tie.

He struck a solemn pose.

Stand still.

Waiting for a destined grand meeting.
-
When Gu Weijing walked out of the hall of the opera house, he was shocked by the scene again.

Mr. Cao's personal assistant stood at the exit of the opera house like a door god.

Standing very straight.

His expression was also extremely solemn. The refracted sunlight shone on his face, bright and blazing, creating a fascinating aura.

"Brother Yang?"

Gu Weijing stopped.

"You're waiting for me here. It's really tiring. The sun is so strong. There's really no need to pick me up like this. You can wait in the shade nearby and just send me your location and ask me to come over."

"Thank you so much."

Gu Weijing smiled embarrassedly.

His conversation with Miss Elena took up some time, and taking a photo with Liu Ziming also took several minutes.

I didn't expect that Lao Yang would just stand there waiting in the sun.

July and August in Singapore!
The temperature at the beach may not be particularly high, but the sun is very hot. Isn't it hot to stand in the sun in a suit and tie with buttons buttoned up? Aren't you afraid of heat stroke?

Old Yang looked as if he was on fire.

He was really about to burn up.

His face and body were really burned with a layer of oily sweat, so how could it not look shiny?

Don't get dehydrated by the sun!

Gu Weijing was deeply moved.

Old Yang just glanced at him coldly.

"Trouble, you are too young, you don't understand."

he thought.

For a real man, there are some battles that cannot be lost.

When it comes to showing off, the most important thing is momentum.

Masters compete with each other.

There is no room for carelessness.

If you lose at the beginning, you lose half of the game.

"The peerless master is here."

Old Yang looked towards a place a few steps behind Gu Weijing.

He lifted his foot and walked forward, stretching out his hand.

"Mr. Gu, we finally meet again."

Gu Tongxiang was strolling out, thinking about how he should pose when he was interviewed by the media outside.

Met Edward Yang.

He stopped involuntarily.

The two men stood face to face, only one meter away from each other, wanting to shake hands, but paused for some unknown reason.

It's like two cowboys standing on an empty small town street, facing each other.

No one moved.

They were all waiting for the moment when the other side would draw their guns.

"A big gold Daytona watch is a symbol of a successful man. Mr. Yang is very classy."

In the end, it was Old Man Gu who spoke first.

"Your formal suit is nice too, and of course, your hair is well styled, very stylish."

Old Yang spoke slowly.

At that moment just now, in a brief confrontation, the movements of the two men seemed to pause for less than half a second, and it was as if one heard thunder in the silence.

They have already secretly exchanged thousands of moves with each other.

The two men clasped their hands together tightly, then withdrew them in an instant.

"Mr. Gu, please - I saw the circle of friends you just posted, the young lion and the old lion, it's really philosophical teachings, very strong."

Old Yang turned slightly, shook his arms, and made an inviting gesture.

"Mr. Yang, you are so polite. Please go first. I have been following your social media accounts. Your poems have a melancholy temperament and you have a sensitive heart like a poet."

Gu Tongxiang also turned slightly and nodded gently, his attitude as if nothing happened.

The two people's eyes met again.

This time.

There was genuine admiration in the eyes of both parties.

"Mr. Gu, please..." Old Yang smiled.

"Mr. Yang, please..." Old Man Gu also smiled.

Suddenly, the expressions of both people changed again.

It was the first time the two of them fought each other. They exchanged a few words, but they were both so absorbed in the fight that they forgot themselves.

They wanted to say something more.

But found out.

In this brief gap, those sharp-eyed reporters had gathered around and blocked Gu Weijing in the middle.
-
"Mr. Gu, can you tell us in more detail about the discovery process of "Old Church on a Thunderstorm Day"? I heard that the Japanese painter Kazunari Sakai also valued that work... Did you have a dispute between you? Now, has he contacted you again--"

"Hey, Gu Weijing, what do you think about the art exhibition? Is Cui Xiaoming's work an imitation of yours? His "New Three Bodies of Buddha" is placed in the special invitation exhibition area, while your "Good Luck Orphanage in the Sunlight" is only placed in the ordinary-"

"Gu! Do you think the organizing committee of this Biennale has engaged in some covert behavior?"

"Tell me, will you choose to sue Rosings? What about Alexander? I noticed that the official website of Oil Painting magazine just updated the news that Alexander will go to Africa... Did you know about this?"

"You and Anna Elena have some private insider dealings, right? You must have."

……

Just for a moment.

Questions rained down on Gu Weijing.

There are so many things I want to ask.

About the exhibition, about the thesis, about "The Old Church in the Thunderstorm", about "The Good Luck Orphanage in the Sunshine", everyone present wanted to dig out something different from the young man's mouth.

Some stated, some pleaded, and some challenged.

Everyone showed their magical powers.

Everyone tried their best to attract Gu Weijing's full attention.

"Mr. Yang just said on your behalf that objectively it is impossible for you to imitate Cui Xiaoming. Do you have anything to say to Cui Xiaoming about this?"

"Sorry, sorry. Mr. Gu just went through a long interview and is very tired. He will not take any more questions now. We will talk about more things after the Biennale is over. Please make way for me."

The two masters fighting behind didn't have time to pretend.

Lao Yang has rushed back.

With his back turned like an NBA defensive player, he quietly pushed aside a paparazzi who was asking him whether he had any shady insider dealings with Elena's family, and pushed away all the reporters around him.

Gu Tongxiang also walked over to his grandson.

He pulled his sleeve nonchalantly, signaling Gu Weijing to follow his example, just pose coolly and stop talking too much.

Be careful or you'll get into trouble.

He made some remarks that could easily be misunderstood.

The two men acted like guardians on the left and right, clearing a passage for Gu Weijing. Lao Yang motioned Gu Weijing to follow him.

Gu Weijing took two steps forward.

He thought for a moment.

Then it stopped again.

He raised his head and looked to the side. Even though many reporters were attracted there, there was still a circle of people gathered there.

A young man who was not much older than him was also standing in the crowd.

That's Cui Xiaoming.

Gu Weijing listened to the questions around him.

He remained silent for a while.

"Brother Yang, please wait a moment." He turned around and walked quickly in that direction.

"I have said it many times, the design of this painting, New Three Bodies of Buddha, is largely inspired by the mountains of Afghanistan—"

(End of this chapter)