He unexpectedly becomes a father at the start of his life, and the mother of his child is a national

Chen Hao glanced at the prices briefly; the cheaper ones cost tens of thousands, while the more expensive ones cost hundreds of thousands or even millions.

He didn't recognize most of the authors' names, only a few contemporary celebrities who had appeared on television or in magazines.

But it's not at the level of Zhang Daqian or Qi Baishi—those kinds of paintings obviously wouldn't be hung in commercial galleries aimed at ordinary collectors.

He was looking at the paintings when a well-dressed female shop assistant walked over with a professional smile on her face.

"Hello sir, welcome to Yulantang."

Are you here to look at paintings or do you need any assistance?

Chen Hao withdrew his gaze, looked at the female shop assistant, and held up the brocade box in his hand:

"I'm not here to look at paintings, I just wanted to ask if you offer consignment services?"

The female shop assistant glanced at the brocade box, then at Chen Hao, her smile remaining unchanged.

Yes, we offer art consignment services.

The fee is 15% of the final selling price, which includes advertising, display, and transaction service fees.

What do you wish to consign?

"A landscape painting," Chen Hao said. "I painted it myself."

A hint of surprise flashed in the female shop assistant's eyes, but she quickly regained her professional demeanor: "Okay."

Would it be convenient to open it and take a look? We need to conduct an initial assessment of the artwork's quality and style to see if it's suitable for consignment in our gallery.

"Okay." Chen Hao nodded.

The two walked to a long table next to them, which was specifically used to display paintings.

Chen Hao opened the brocade box, took out the scroll, untied the ribbon, and, together with the female shop assistant, slowly unfurled the scroll.

The complete four-foot scroll of "Autumn Wind in Ten Thousand Valleys" is displayed on the table.

The female shop assistant bent down and examined it carefully.

She's been in this industry for several years, so she has basic appreciation skills.

Upon seeing it, he nodded slightly in approval.

This painting... is indeed quite good.

The composition is grand, with clear distinctions between the foreground, middle ground, and background, creating a strong sense of space.

His brushwork is also very solid; the texture strokes of the rocks are varied and natural, and the pine trees are vivid and powerful.

In particular, the overall atmosphere of "autumn wind blowing through ten thousand valleys" is very captivating, with a sense of grandeur mixed with desolation.

The use of color is also harmonious; the combination of ochre and indigo is typical and pleasing.

Her gaze fell on the signature: Haolin.

The seal also bears the two characters "Haolin".

Haolin? I've never heard of him before.

He's probably a newcomer, or an amateur painter using a pen name.

"This painting... did you paint it?" The female shop assistant looked up and examined Chen Hao again.

The young man in front of me looked to be in his early twenties, dressed in ordinary casual clothes. Although he had a calm demeanor, he didn't seem like someone who could paint such artistic landscapes.

She has met many young painters who may have good painting skills, but often lack the artistic conception and overall composition to support their work.

This painting, however, is different.

"I drew it," Chen Hao readily admitted.

The female shop assistant was surprised, but she didn't show it on her face. Instead, she praised, "It's really well drawn."

The artistic conception and brushwork are both of a very high standard.

"How should I address you, sir?"

"His surname is Chen."

"Mr. Chen, your painting 'Autumn Wind in Ten Thousand Valleys' is indeed of a very high standard." The female shop assistant carefully chose her words.

"So, what would you like to set the consignment price for this painting? We need to assess market acceptance and our promotional strategy based on the price."

Chen Hao didn't speak, but simply raised one index finger.

The saleswoman looked at the finger, thought for a moment, and tentatively asked, "Ten thousand yuan?"

This price is not low for a new painter.

Many art school graduates only sell their works for a few thousand yuan.

Although this painting is good, the artist is completely unknown, so 10,000 yuan is a reasonable, or even a bit high, starting price.

However, Chen Hao shook his head.

The female shop assistant was taken aback: "Not ten thousand? Then it's... one hundred thousand?"

When she said the number, even she herself felt it was a bit outrageous.

One hundred thousand yuan is a price range that only painters with some fame or artists who have won awards in certain competitions can reach.

Even some very famous celebrities can sell their products for this price just by scribbling a few lines and signing their names.

But that's based on fame, not on the paintings themselves.

"Mr. Chen, 100,000... might be a bit too high," the saleswoman said, trying to be tactful.

"Your painting is indeed very good, but the value of a work of art does not depend entirely on the painting itself. The artist's reputation, past sales records, and market recognition are all very important."

Since you are not famous yet, if you price it at 100,000, it is very likely that no one will be interested in it for a long time.

We suggest starting with a more realistic price, such as 10,000 yuan.

If it sells well, and we build a sales record and reputation, we can gradually increase the price of the next piece.

She felt that what she said was very honest and that she was considering the other person's feelings.

But Chen Hao shook his head again.

"It's not 100,000."

The female shop assistant was completely stunned.

Not ten thousand, nor one hundred thousand?

How many fingers could there be?

Is it...

An absurd thought flashed through her mind, and she could hardly believe it:

"Mr. Chen, you wouldn't mean...one million, would you?"

She herself found it a little funny when she said the number.

What does one million mean?

That's the price of a masterpiece by a top contemporary artist, the kind of work that would be featured as a highlight at a major auction.

An unknown young man, holding a four-foot landscape painting, asked for one million.

This isn't confidence, this is utter madness.

"Yes, at least one million." Chen Hao's tone was calm, but his eyes were firm.

"I won't sell it for less than that."

The female shop assistant opened her mouth, but for a moment she didn't know what to say.

She looked at Chen Hao, then at the painting on the table, and wondered: Does this young man have some misunderstanding about the art market? Or is he just here to cause trouble?

"Mr. Chen," she took a deep breath, trying to maintain a professional demeanor.

"This price... is impossible. It's really impossible."

Our gallery has represented many painters, and those who have sold their works for millions are all masters who have considerable fame and academic standing both domestically and internationally.

Your painting is good, but... please forgive my bluntness, it's still a long way from being in the million-dollar range.

I suggest you either adjust the price to a more realistic one, such as 10,000 yuan, and we can try to help you consign it.

Alternatively, you could try asking at other galleries; perhaps there will be other opportunities.

Her words were clear—either lower the price or leave.

Chen Hao's expression remained unchanged.

He is confident in his paintings. His master-level painting skills have given him not only technique, but also an accurate judgment of the value of a work.

In his opinion, this painting, "Autumn Wind in Ten Thousand Valleys," is worth a million, or even more.

This is not blind confidence, but a conclusion drawn from an understanding of one's own level and the art market.

Since this gallery doesn't appreciate its value, there's no need to waste any more words.

"Then I won't bother you any longer," Chen Hao said, and began to collect the paintings.

Seeing this, the female shop assistant didn't say anything more, but secretly shook her head in her heart.

Another young man with lofty ambitions. What a pity. His paintings are indeed good, but he is too ignorant of the realities of the market.

Just as Chen Hao was halfway through rolling up the painting and preparing to tie it back up, the wind chimes at the gallery entrance rang.

A stunningly beautiful woman walked in...