Chapter Thirty-Six: Shock from the Master

After an entire morning of auctions, a total of ten paintings had been sold, bringing in two hundred and ten million. After deducting staff salaries, Mr. Liu’s rent, and the taxes owed, Yang Xiaofan would still have at least one hundred and fifty million in hand.

Although it wasn’t as much as when he’d previously sold paintings to Liu Hu and his associates—those deals brought in more money—this was only ten paintings! Back then, he’d sold them four hundred paintings in one go. Compared to that, the advantage of this new approach was obvious. Yang Xiaofan could now free himself from the need to paint every single day.

To celebrate the successful debut of his first auction, Yang Xiaofan reserved a grand private hall at the Northern Su Hotel for lunch, inviting Mu Shuyu and the others, including the auction staff. The meal alone cost nearly one or two million, but for someone who was now so profitable, Yang Xiaofan no longer cared about such expenses.

After a few rounds of wine, Yang Xiaofan, drunk and dizzy, took Qin Nuanyu upstairs and booked a presidential suite, not even bothering to return to his dormitory. To his surprise, Qin Nuanyu, for reasons unknown, took the initiative that night—so much so that he could barely keep up and, trembling as he walked, had to sneak downstairs to buy a box of herbal supplements.

Yang Xiaofan swore to himself that he was strong and healthy, not lacking in any way. But when a wild woman gets serious, even a bull would be hard-pressed to endure.

...

That evening, in the capital, within the courtyard of a traditional quadrangle—

“Master Chen, Master Chen, please come and see!”

The one addressed as Master Chen was an elderly man, dressed in white silk Tang-style robes. At that moment, under the setting sun, he was bent over his desk, writing vigorous lines of regular script with a sharp and penetrating energy. From his brushwork, one could sense a chill that pierced the soul. Clearly, his calligraphy had surpassed mastery and reached the level of a grandmaster.

Though the visitor was anxious, Master Chen finished his page unhurriedly, then set down his brush, took a towel and wiped the sweat from his brow, smiling as he said, “Little Jin, what’s got you so flustered?”

Little Jin was not so little; his temples were already flecked with gray—he was a middle-aged man. His expression was grave as he spoke softly, “Master Chen, today I went to Northern Su to attend an auction. I managed to acquire a painting and would like you to take a look.”

“Oh? What painting could make a CEO of your stature so concerned? Let me see.”

President Jin immediately took out the painting, carefully stored in a wooden box, and handed it to Master Chen. As Master Chen slowly unrolled it, the moment a corner was revealed, his pupils contracted, a look of profound shock flashing in his eyes. When the painting was halfway open, his entire expression grew solemn, and he quickly unrolled the rest without hesitation.

By the time the entire painting was revealed, Master Chen’s face was utterly grave, transformed beyond recognition.

“Master Chen, what do you think?” President Jin couldn’t help but sneak a glance, hoping to glean some clue from Master Chen’s expression. Unfortunately, Master Chen’s face remained unchanged, as if his entire spirit had been drawn into the painting.

After a long while, Master Chen finally let out a deep breath. “A masterpiece! I never imagined that in my lifetime, I would see such a divine work. Even with decades of cultivation, I am far from matching the artist’s skill. Across the whole of China, few could be his equal!”

Hearing this, President Jin was instantly relieved, a gratified smile spreading across his face. He had never doubted Master Chen’s judgment; after all, here was the president of the National Painting Association, a figure above grandmaster level! Such praise alone proved that the painting he’d bought was truly a treasure worthy of passing down through the ages.

The twenty million he’d spent was more than worth it—truly worth it!

Master Chen carefully rolled up the painting and handed it back to President Jin, who gingerly placed it inside the box.

“Little Jin, where did you acquire this painting? I have considered myself familiar with all the great painters in China, yet none have reached this level. Who is the artist?”

President Jin chuckled, “His name is Yang Xiaofan, a young painter. Despite his age, his foundation is impeccable. It was not easy for me to win this painting at auction—almost missed it.”

“Yang Xiaofan?” Master Chen frowned. “I’ve never heard of this painter.”

“That’s hardly surprising. He’s young, from Northern Su, and has only recently come to prominence.”

“To think that such a young man could produce this! I must meet him. If we could bring him into our association, his contribution to the nation’s art world would be immeasurable. Little Jin, would you help arrange an introduction?”

“Of course. I’m a bit busy the next couple of days, but I’ll book the tickets and accompany you as soon as I’m free.”

“Excellent. Thank you.”

...

Far away in Northern Su, Yang Xiaofan had no idea any of this was happening.

The whole afternoon had exhausted him; he and Qin Nuanyu both slept soundly until the next morning.

When he woke at dawn, Qin Nuanyu was still asleep. Yet when he saw her trembling lashes, betraying her anxiety, he knew she was only pretending.

So, Yang Xiaofan decided to play a little trick.

“Aah!” Qin Nuanyu couldn’t help but let out a startled scream. Realizing he’d done it on purpose, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she pounded his shoulder in playful protest. “You’re terrible! You’re terrible! You bullied me on purpose.”

Yang Xiaofan grinned. “Who told you to fake sleep? But really, who’s the bad one here? Last night, you were the one who nearly did me in.”

Qin Nuanyu’s face reddened even more. “You got away with everything and still want to act innocent? I’m ignoring you.”

Yang Xiaofan quickly caught her hand. “Don’t be like that, class leader. I could tell yesterday—you seemed unhappy. Your mood was strange.”

“N-no, I wasn’t,” Qin Nuanyu replied, her eyes flitting with panic.

But Yang Xiaofan caught that fleeting panic perfectly. “Still denying it? If you don’t tell me the truth, I’ll have to tickle you. Don’t blame me if you can’t handle it.”

“No!” Qin Nuanyu blurted, startled, her mood suddenly turning gloomy. She bit her lip, lowered her head, and said with a hint of grievance, “When you were chasing me before, I never thought much of it. But as we’ve grown closer, I’ve discovered more and more of your mysteries. Every bit of it is so extraordinary, so dazzling. I’m afraid that one day, I won’t be worthy of you—that I won’t have the right to stand by your side.”