Almighty painter

Chapter 962 The Crazy Classroom

One last little detail about the young painter and his agent's trip to Paris is—remember that SUV they parked in front of the Chanel store?
They argued the whole way.

The final result was... neither of them won.

That's life. When a debate ends, there are always winners and losers. And life... sometimes A is right, sometimes B is right, and sometimes both A and B are right.

There are also times.

Both A and B thought they were right, but they were actually both wrong.

After Gu Weijing and Miss Elena finished eating snails with August, they strolled back to the Champagne Street after enjoying the Parisian night view.

Miss Elena chimed in, suggesting that if he insisted, she could move the car out of the parking space first, since "this parking space is reserved for disabled people, and it might require a higher level of skill from Gu Weijing to drive."

She was unwilling to force others to do things against their will.

Gu Weijing said, "Oh, thank you, ma'am, no need."

"Instead of wasting time on this, you should study the traffic rules thoroughly beforehand next time. That way, I'll drive wherever you tell me to. I don't mind you driving, but at least I know that you shouldn't drive after drinking."

Anna immediately retorted, saying that she had only drunk half a glass of very low-alcohol wine in the restaurant.

It was just getting dark.

Now, having visited the Eiffel Tower and taken a boat tour, it was already past midnight. About four hours had passed since dinner, so their metabolism should have long since reached the local safe limits.

Gu Weijing countered, "Why should we say that?" Drunk people often insist they're not drunk.

Sleepy-eyed August watched the two of them arguing with utter despair.

Then--

Gu Weijing did not drive.

Miss Elena didn't drive either.

Of course, it wasn't that the Springer Spaniel, having reached its limit, thought the two were being incredibly annoying, barking and rushing over to open the car door and drive off. Rather, it was that the couple, arguing and strolling along, wandered over to the Chanel store and then froze in shock.

The car is gone.

Miss Elena's enormous car, a behemoth full-size SUV, vanished, leaving only an empty parking lot behind.

The two looked at each other, but neither of them said a word.

August sniffed the ground and let out a weak cry.

"Wang."
-
the next day.

After some effort, Gu Weijing and Anna dialed the Paris towing service hotline 3430. After checking for a long time, they finally understood that their car had been towed away for a traffic violation and was now in a towing yard in the southern suburbs.

These kinds of things can usually be handled by a private lawyer.

But this time.

Since their trip was about experiencing new and exciting things, they went to the Paris police station together. It was only when Anna Hélène, the car owner, and Gu Weijing, the driver, were being reprimanded by a bearded traffic policeman that they learned what was going on.

Oh--

Parking in a disabled parking space requires more than just having a woman in a wheelchair in the car; you also need a permit.

Vehicles must display special markings; otherwise, they are considered illegal or in violation of regulations.

After paying a fine of 110 euros, a towing fee of 29 euros, and a storage fee of 7.6 euros, Gu Weijing was finally able to drive his car out of the parking lot.

He opened the car door and looked at Anna in the passenger seat through the rearview mirror.

Anna also looked at him through the rearview mirror, wondering if he wanted to say something.

"at least--"

Gu Weijing optimistically summarized, "We both learned new transportation knowledge on this trip."
-
A month later.

Hamburg Academy of Fine Arts, Watercolor Department.

The painting studio of Mr. Samuel Kertzens, the head of the art-in-residence program.

"...space, time, and color, they are interconnected and ultimately constitute the form of the artwork..."

The studio wasn't large; a dozen or so armchairs were arranged in a fan shape throughout the room, where all the students attending the class sat. At one end of the fan, at the tip of the fan handle, stood a professor with high cheekbones, a strong and defined facial structure, and dressed in a suit.

He stretched his hands out in front of his face, staring straight ahead, his blue irises so wide they reflected light, giving him a slightly crossed appearance.

Kozens seemed to be holding up the head of a non-existent person, gazing deeply into "his" eyes, and spitting on the other's face.

"Now for a simple classroom question."

"Whoever answers correctly, I will give him... give him five points on his next class assignment."

"Use your stupid little brains and think about it. Whose theory did I just come from?" Professor Kozens' fingers froze, as if he had been frozen in time.

The art studio was quiet.

"Then, I'll add ten points."

Professor Kozens continued.

The classroom remained silent. Everyone exchanged glances, each one tempted by the reward offered by the stern professor.

But obviously.

No one knows the answer.

"Okay, the reward has been increased again. Whoever answers this question correctly will get a perfect score on their final exam this semester. Oh, GPA, GPA... This seemingly boring thing is very important to you guys, right?"

"Dady, I got first place in my department! Can you buy me a car?"

He casually adopted the accent of a rich kid.

Still no one answered.

This reward is just too good to be true, too sweet. Even if it's not worth a car as he described, just answering a simple question and getting full marks from a tyrannical teacher makes me happy just thinking about it.

Even Gu Weijing couldn't help but feel his heart flutter.

If Professor Ketzens had actually brought out a Porsche 911, perhaps Gu Weijing's heart wouldn't have been beating so fast.

The degree to which a person is moved by something is, to some extent, linked to how precious or valuable it is.

It's only 911.

The temptation wasn't that great for Gu Weijing; the painting "The Old Church on a Thunderstorm" was worth a whole 911 platoon, and he donated it without hesitation.

But... GPA and a perfect score on the final exam.

He remembered the watch Anna had asked him for.

The best graduates of the Masters Program are not determined by their final grades throughout the year, nor are they selected from within the Hamburg Academy of Fine Arts. There is a complex set of evaluation criteria, in which all students from multiple schools participating in the Masters Program compete for the title.

It's not just watercolor.

The competition wasn't limited to painting; students from other disciplines such as photography, music, and curating also participated.

Because different art forms cannot be directly compared, a perfect score on the final exam... ultimately means something.

Moreover, Samuel Kertzens, who is standing in front of me, is one of the several leaders and judges of the entire art project. It would be a good thing to win his favor and make a deep impression on him.

Regrettably.

Gu Weijing really didn't know the answer.

He needed to know that he had already said it when Kozens asked the question.

Among the students in the art studio, Viktor was the quickest to react. Nicknamed "Professor," he was the first to openly and blatantly grab a book like lightning.

The rule in this watercolor studio is that electronic devices are not allowed. Before entering the room, everyone puts their mobile phones in the storage bags on the wall.

The layout of the studio made it impossible to secretly use a mobile phone. But Mr. Kozens didn't say that reference books were off-limits.

Like toppling dominoes, Victor's action triggered a chain reaction, and everyone immediately realized what was happening. As the dominoes fell, the starting gun fired, and everyone sprinted to their textbooks.

This includes Gu Weijing.

Gu Weijing lowered his head and flipped through the book.

Dürer, Menzel, Paul Signac, Johann Constable, Coxsworth Jr., Seurat, and Oswiani... Who are they, who are they, who are they really?

Amidst the rapid rustling of pages turning.

Professor Kozens maintained his almost performance-art-like posture, looking quite pleased with himself for creating this chaotic situation.

He casually tossed a handful of bait into the pond, watching the hungry carp leap and frolic around.

Kozens seemed to think the scene wasn't intense enough.

then.

He threw a handful of bait into the pond, or more accurately, he threw a whole sack of bait in.

"Oh. Still can't answer this question?"

“This is such a simple question, you guys are really disappointing.” He scolded the students. “Well then, you don’t need to go to Sugar Daddy for a car anymore.”

Kozens straightened up.

He took off his watch. "You know, Breguet gives the most outstanding graduates of the program a custom-made watch. As a judge and head of the Master Art Program, I also have one of the same watches."

He dangled the leather strap of his watch, much like he was dangling fish bait.

"Take it, take it."

"You can take this watch and exchange it for a car."

"And...whoever answers this question can say to others that he is my student. Not the kind of student who just happened to enroll in my class this semester. Rather...the kind of student who is a student of Bellini and Titian, two generations of Venetian chief painters."

"Anyone interested in participating as my protégé at this year's campus art fair? I'll take care of the principal. Oh, who do you want to meet—a wealthy tycoon, or a Turner Prize judge? Easy, oh, it's so easy to arrange—"

Even in such a busy situation.

There was a moment of silence in the air, followed by the sound of a chair being dragged.

People are no longer turning the pages of a book, but rather fighting a war.

It's crazy.

To answer this question, a platinum watch, a disciple of a top art master, the status of an outstanding graduate, and a banquet hosted by celebrities—all are within reach.

This isn't even a matter of being crazy or not; it's... utterly incomprehensible and irrational.

Has this watercolor teacher gone mad?
But Samuel Kertzens was a mean-spirited madman in his daily life.

An incomprehensible and unreasonable person.

The students actually thought this condition sounded quite plausible when he said it.

"Quickly, quick, little ponies, run faster!"

Kozens shouted.

“A hint, perhaps you need a hint. Hmm, okay, let me think, he probably lived in the nineteenth century, somewhere related to the American art world. Do you need any more hints? Uh… you know, I personally admire the Hudson School—”

Kozens's words came out.

Everyone then turned to the second half of the thick textbook.

Gu Weijing quickly browsed the catalog.

The search scope was immediately focused on the famous 19th-century watercolor master... who was also associated with the United States and the Hudson River School.

“Gu, our great painter. Come on, bravely answer this question.” Samuel Kertzens directly called on Gu Weijing by name.

"Tell me, who is the answer?"

In total, it's just a few names.

Two or three playing cards are face down on the table, and the treasure is hidden beneath one of them.

Who is most likely?

Gu Weijing remained silent.

"Winslow Homer".

The name came to Gu Weijing's lips, but he hesitated for a moment and shook his head.

"what."

Professor Kozens exclaimed, "It seems winning the gold medal at the Singapore Biennale doesn't guarantee you can answer questions in class. You know what? I really think the organizing committee should award you your corpse. After all, they thought you were dead, that's why they were so pitiful..."

One arm is raised on the left side.

"It's Winslow Homer."

Someone spoke.

“You bloody genius!” Kozens clapped his hands together, making a loud noise, and turned his searchlight-like gaze toward him.

"Oh, Ed, you're a fucking genius."

"That's right, the correct answer is Winslow Homer."

Professor Kozens said.

“Tell me, you read about the brotherhood among the Hudson River School New York painters, didn’t you? It was very touching.”

Ed nodded.

"Space, time, and color are all linked together in the paintings of the Hudson River School, especially that glow..."

Ed licked his lips and continued nodding.

……

"awesome."

Kozens praised Ed, "Let me ask you a question. Between the two paintings, 'The Course of Empire' and 'The Last Buffalo,' which do you prefer?"

“The Last Buffalo, sir.”

“That’s great, me too.” Mr. Kozens praised his student’s taste.

Gu Weijing stared at the scene in front of him with a very strange look.

“The paintings and lives of our predecessors always inspire people.” Kozens shrugged. “Oh, right, one last question. Have you seen that interview from over a year ago in Singapore by the magazine *Painting*?”

Ed blinked.

"No, sir."

Gu Weijing suddenly moved his chair away from Ed.

"Then I suggest you take a look when you have some free time; it's quite interesting. No problem, you have plenty of time. I'm having a get-together with some friends this Saturday; they're all celebrities in the industry, including a director. I heard you like throwing parties; would you like to go—"

Ed looked at the teacher with longing eyes.

The teacher also looked at Ed with kind eyes.

He approached, holding the watch, as if he wanted to hand it to the lucky person.

(End of this chapter)