Reborn as a great painter, with a system, you can be willful

The plane passed through the clouds and Jiang Zhe looked out the window.

The outline of the city gradually became clear.

The city of New York glows metallically under the scorching sun; the Hudson River wraps around Manhattan's rugged skyline like a crumpled belt.

"The hotel you chose is on the west side of Morningside Heights. Is it because it is closer to school?" Wang Zhen heard the reminder on the radio, took out her makeup bag, and started to touch up her makeup.

Jiang Zhe said: "It's only a ten-minute walk from the main entrance of Columbia University - it saves more time, so it's worth the extra cost."

Wang Zhen said: "I heard that this was where bankers in the 1920s built their golden houses to hide their mistresses."

"Let's go and see what's going on first. We will have to find a place to live and a studio soon." Jiang Zhe replied.

The plane gradually came to a stop and following the broadcast instructions, the passengers stood up one after another and lined up to get off the plane.

Jiang Zhe held the suitcase handle tightly and followed the passengers to the cabin door.

The moment I stepped out of the cabin, the heat wave wrapped in various industrial smells rushed into my nose.

He stepped off the plane and looked up to see the crown of the Statue of Liberty looming in the distance, like a rusty hairpin.

"New York, I'm here again, and this time, I'm going to live here for a few years."

"I feel like I'm in a sauna." Wang Zhen stepped on her new sandals and followed Jiang Zhe into the shuttle bus. After just a few minutes of exercise, her forehead was already covered with sweat.

The two picked up their luggage smoothly and took a taxi.

As the taxi drove out of the airport, they barely adapted to the temperature.

Wang Zhen closed his eyes and tried to regain his energy.

Jiang Zhe was in high spirits. He observed the street scene through the car window and occasionally chatted with the driver.

In 2005, surreal dramas were played out on the streets of New York: teenagers in baseball caps rolled through traffic on roller skates, blasting out powerful music from the radios they held in their hands… faded millennium ribbons hung under the Chinatown signs… the Nasdaq screen in Times Square flashed a cold light, and Andy Warhol’s Campbell’s Soup can advertisement appeared in the digital waterfall.

The driver saw that Jiang Zhe was interested in the street scene, so he tried to chat with him. There was no fixed topic, just talking about whatever he saw.

"See that neon cowboy?" He motioned for Jiang Zhe to look at a certain spot. "The most expensive billboard in the 1940s has now become a graffiti board for street artists."

Jiang Zhe's sight was caught by a hot dog stand on the roadside.

Under the greasy awning, a Mexican vendor was stuffing sauerkraut into bread, with the sauce dripping onto a napkin printed with the Statue of Liberty - the scene reminded him of the pancake stand near the Esplanade, except that the sweet bean sauce was replaced with yellow mustard.

As the taxi turned onto Broadway, the scenery suddenly changed.

The cast iron fire escape cast a long and slender shadow in the light and shadow. Unnamed music floated out from a second-floor window, the sound of the piano mixed with the roar of the air conditioner outdoor unit.

The car continued driving and finally arrived at Jiang Zhe’s temporary residence - Chenbian Manor Hotel.

The bronze main door slowly turned, and the doorman enthusiastically helped Jiang Zhe and his friend carry their luggage, with the metal buttons on his uniform sparkling.

Walking into the lobby, the Tiffany glass dome filters the light into a honey color, which falls on the dark green velvet sofa. In the mahogany wine cabinet behind the front desk, there are Macallan whiskeys of different years. This style retains the traces of ancient decorative arts. It fits Jiang Zhe's imagination of an ancient hotel.

After checking in, the waiter led the two people into the elevator and went to the top floor.

Jiang Zhe had no intention of saving money, so he booked a river view suite for himself and Wang Zhen.

He first went to Wang Zhen's room and took a look around.

The moment the door opened, sunlight and waves appeared. In the living room with a height of nearly four meters, Gothic arched windows framed the riverside scenery, and a Bauhaus-style chrome coffee table was placed on the carpet.

Wang Zhen walked straight to the mini bar, took a look, and asked the waiter: "Do you have Margaux 1982?"

"Yes, do you need it now?"

"No, not yet."

After looking at Wang Zhen's room, the waiter led Jiang Zhe to his room.

Wang Zhen also came over to see what was different.

Jiang Zhe walked around the room.

After the waiter finished his introduction, he left the room.

"Sure enough, the money was not wasted." Wang Zhen's fingertips stroked the walnut wall paneling in the bedroom.

They are very satisfied with their living conditions.

Jiang Zhe put down his luggage and stretched.

"I'll go wash up first. I feel a little sticky. We'll talk about the next arrangements later." Wang Zhen said.

After seeing Wang Zhen off, Jiang Zhe washed up and felt much more relaxed.

I made myself a cup of tea, picked up my phone, and called my parents to let them know I was safe.

When Jiang Yi and his wife heard that Jiang Zhe had arrived at the hotel, they were finally relieved and then asked in detail about his experience along the way and the accommodation conditions.

Next, Jiang Zhe called a few more friends.

After a few phone calls, the tea had already turned lukewarm.

Jiang Zhe held the cup and walked to the window. The titanium alloy surface of the Guggenheim Museum on the other side flickered like a falling galaxy.

Sip tea, enjoy the scenery, and let your thoughts run wild.

Soon, Wang Zhen came to see Jiang Zhe in casual clothes.

Jiang Zhe poured her a glass of water: "I plan to report as soon as possible."

"The school won't give you an extra degree just because you arrive twelve hours early." Wang Zhen stood up and took out a dining guide. Vetiver perfume mixed with a moist scent drifted over.

“Take a night’s rest and report in the best condition.

The steaks and fine wine in the restaurant downstairs may help you calm down. "

Jiang Zhe thought this was a good suggestion and decided to relax.

After a few hours of rest, the two went downstairs and prepared to enjoy a good dinner.

The head waiter of the Oak and Flame restaurant is a man with sleek silver hair.

As he led Jiang Zhe and the other man through a corridor lined with photos of Broadway shows, Jiang Zhe caught a glimpse of Andy Warhol's signature hidden under a mask from "The Phantom of the Opera."

Choose a seat and order food.

Several kinds of delicious food were delivered one after another.

The steam from the lobster soup blurred Wang Zhen's newly applied lipstick. She shook her red wine glass and said, "The wine collection here is very good."

Jiang Zhe was not interested in red wine, but he thought the fillet steak here was delicious.

"Will I accompany you to report tomorrow?" Wang Zhen stirred the caramel pudding with a silver spoon.

Jiang Zhe said: "No, I can do it myself."

Wang Zhen shook his head: "I feel relieved only after seeing you settled down. After reporting in, there are still many things to do. I have to go to Christie's auction house and Miller's place."

The two chatted about tomorrow's plans and before they knew it, they had finished dinner.

Because they had a long journey, both of them planned to rest as soon as possible.

However, Jiang Zhe was insomniac. He stared at the window glass through the gap in the curtains. The light spots were faintly flowing on the glass, like the holy light cast by the church's stained glass windows.

He recalled what was written in the "Lives of the Great Artists" that the young Raphael also stared at the dome of the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore the whole night he arrived in Florence and could not sleep.

Jiang Zhe felt bored, so he just got up, walked to the window and opened the curtains.

The waves of the Hudson River reflected the lights of the city. After watching for a while, he recognized a lighted spot on the other side of the river. It should be the Whitney Museum. Diamond-shaped glass curtain wall.

……

Jiang Zhe was woken up by the hotel service.

After washing up, all the fatigue is gone.

After breakfast, Jiang Zhe packed his reporting materials into his backpack and rushed to Columbia University with Wang Zhen.

In summer in New York, the air is filled with the bitter smell of melted asphalt and exhaust gas.

"We're here." Jiang Zhe saw Columbia University's iconic goddess statue from afar. The bronze base was covered with ivy, and the outline of an owl's wings could be vaguely seen in the gaps between the vines. At this time, a red bird flew across the sky of Morningside Heights and disappeared behind the red brick spire of the teaching building.

"I shouldn't have listened to you. I should have taken a taxi." Wang Zhen

Jiang Zhe also felt hot, but his longing for the new environment masked the uncomfortable feeling.

He wanted to find a light topic. "I heard that anyone who finds the owl can get three dollars?" He reached out and brushed away the vine leaves on the base of the statue, his fingertips rubbing against the cool bronze lines.

Wang Zhen sneered, "You still inquire about these things?"

"I heard that a student from the Department of Architecture found a coin from 1921 last month. Now, this place is almost patinated by the patina."

They walked along Broadway deeper into the campus.

The summer heat was cut into pieces by Columbia University's densely packed buildings. The teaching buildings with red sandstone exteriors looked like stacks of old books. In the diamond-shaped shadows cast by the window frames, several students were using chalk to draw performance art symbols on the ground.

Jiang Zhe noticed that the side wall of the library was covered with ivy, and the leaves turned over in the wind, revealing their silvery backs, like millions of birds flapping their wings, ready to fly.

"Look at that building—" Wang Zhenxu pointed to the gray square box building in the distance. Along the way, you can see a lot of new scenery.

Jiang Zhe's eyes were drawn to the girl on the steps of the library. She was wearing a peacock blue headscarf and was stuffing a stack of architectural drawings into a canvas bag, revealing the gold-stamped spines of the books.

"The Art Institute is over there on the east lawn." Jiang Zhe retracted his gaze and led Wang Zhen into an arcade. Iron chandeliers hung from the masonry dome, as if walking through the corridor of a medieval monastery. At the corner stood a stone lion statue.

As Jiang Zhe passed by the statue, he glanced at the plaque under his claws. It read "Donated by alumni in 1912".

Wang Zhen noticed Jiang Zhe's gaze and said, "During last month's Christie's evening sale, the prices of 19th century academic works increased. You can also paint works in a similar style, and maybe you can take advantage of this trend."

Jiang Zhe said: "The last time I came to New York, I heard a rumor. A few years ago, a professor found a box of fake Caravaggios. It is difficult to distinguish between academic and business."

As they emerged from the arcade, they ran into several students running by.

"When you finish your report, you can come here and take some photos." Wang Zhen pointed to a place not far away. There was a neatly trimmed lawn, sturdy trees, and a few young people sitting on a bench chatting.

Before he finished his words, a rapid bicycle bell rang out.

A girl wearing a plaid shirt rode a bicycle past Jiang Zhe and his friend.

As she passed a downhill slope, the books and notebooks piled in the basket fell to the ground with a clatter.

Because the distance was close, Jiang Zhe and the other man went over to help.

He picked up a few books and handed them to the girls.

The girl has short hair and wears black-rimmed glasses. There are some freckles on her fair skin. The first impression is that she is not beautiful, but rather androgynous.

"Thank you!" The girl stuffed the book back into the basket.

Jiang Zhe saw that among the girls’ books, there were several books about music.

I guess this girl might be a student majoring in music.

At this time, another girl came to help.

She asked the girl on the bicycle about her well-being, and when the girl pushed her bicycle away, she looked at Jiang Zhe.

"Hello Jiang Zhe, my name is Kelly." She took the initiative to extend her hand to Jiang Zhe.

Jiang Zhe didn't know the other person, but he still shook hands with him politely.

"Have we met?"

Kelly briefly introduced herself. When Professor Kerry asked Jiang Zhe to do a sample painting, she went to the studio to observe the second half.

Jiang Zhe didn't remember the other person at all.

When Kelly learned that Jiang Zhe had come to report, she said that she also wanted to go find Professor Kerry and could take them there.

Without further ado, she enthusiastically led the way for Jiang Zhe and the other man, and introduced the scenery along the way.

Walking around the low wall covered with wisteria, a sunken courtyard suddenly appeared in front of us. There was a three-meter-high modern sculpture: a skeleton made up of hundreds of brass bells, which made a tinkling sound like broken jade when the wind blew.

"It was erected just last month." Kelly introduced, "It is said that it used 300 pounds of bullet shells from World War II."

Jiang Zhe took a closer look and found that there were tiny numbers engraved on the inside of each bell. 1914, 1939, 1968
On the way, they also saw several teachers from a distance.

"Pay attention to the oldest person," Kelly lowered her voice, "That's Professor White. He just brought a work to the Asian Gallery of the Metropolitan Museum of Art last month."

Jiang Zhe recalled that more than one person had mentioned the deep ties between Columbia University and the New York art world.

Professors often curate exhibitions at MoMA and students intern at the Guggenheim.

Kelly was very talkative and told Jiang Zhe the distribution of various venues in the school and how to reach his destination quickly.

Wang Zhen watched Kelly and Jiang Zhe chatting and rarely participated.

She secretly observed that the girl was a typical Western beauty, with exaggerated curves, an extroverted and confident personality.

In the eyes of Americans, she is definitely a beauty. I wonder if Jiang Zhe will like this type.

Moreover, she didn't believe the side that the other party showed.

This enthusiasm and the chance encounter just now are both questionable.

At least, in Wang Zhen's opinion, they had not met many people who were willing to help along the way, let alone those who took the time to help lead the way.

Jiang Zhe is the pillar of his gallery, or even the biggest pillar, and nothing can happen to him.

Wang Zhen has always been worried that Jiang Zhe might be seduced away by someone while living abroad. Now it seems that his worries were not unnecessary.

She had already thought about how to remind Jiang Zhe and what precautions she should take.

Jiang Zhe didn't know Wang Zhen was worried. With the tour guide, he had a direct understanding of Columbia University's campus.

A boy in a suede jacket sat at the corner of the stairs; a girl sat on the ancient stone steps with a copy of "A Study of Medieval Ornaments" on her knees. The glass of the library reflected the splendor of the building; there was the roar of the subway in the distance, the sound of the Hudson River, and the sudden applause in a classroom.

Jiang Zhe took a deep breath, and the air was filled with the scent of ink, dust and plants.

His first impression of the place was excellent.

"We're here. Professor Kerry's office is in that building." Kelly smiled.

(End of this chapter)