The Versatile Master Artist

Chapter 21: Chapter 11: The Painters’ Duel

”Stop!”

A voice of reprimand came from afar.

A large group of people who had just participated in the ribbon-cutting ceremony came rushing over from a distance.

They happened to witness the scene of Tanaka falling to the ground.

In an instant, many people were speaking simultaneously, with all kinds of voices mingling together.

”Tanaka, Tanaka...” This was the supervising teacher from Tama Art University.

”Shengzi, Gang Chang, are you alright!” This was the father of the Sakai siblings, Professor Yakai Seiichi, concerned about his son and daughter.

”How did it come to this? What exactly happened, who did this?”

This was an enraged official from the Yangon Tourism Bureau.

Tanaka Masakazu noticed that Gu Weijing’s act of violence was witnessed by these professors and artists, secretly feeling pleased.

His provocative words were spoken very softly, knowing that even if the Sakai siblings wanted to intervene, they wouldn’t know what he had said.

In such moments, the more severely one appears injured, the bigger the issue becomes.

Tanaka lay on the ground clutching his stomach, looking pitifully close to fainting.

”This is intolerable, it’s intolerable, how can such people come in... Ambulance, call an ambulance.”

The supervising teacher from Tama Art University, seeing a student seemingly badly hurt, was understandably very indignant.

The teacher turned to the Yangon government official beside him, sternly questioning: ”If Mr. Tanaka were attacked by hooligans and something happens, your side will be held accountable!”

Gu Weijing observed all the adults surrounding the fallen Tanaka Masakazu, realizing he might have acted a bit rashly.

People don’t care about the cause of an incident.

To most people, as long as one person attacks and the other doesn’t, the attacker is naturally seen as violent and barbaric.

”Dogshit, my grandson is not a hooligan!”

He heard a loud voice from the crowd, so loud that the surrounding chaos subdued.

Gu Tongxiang parted the crowd and walked to Gu Weijing’s side.

”What heinous act did Tanaka Masakazu commit that made such a normally polite child like you have to hit him?”

He loudly questioned Gu Weijing.

Heinous act?

Gu Weijing hesitated only for a moment, then quickly understood when he saw his grandfather winking at him: ”He insulted Elder Cao.”

”Smart.”

Gu Tongxiang felt relieved, not knowing what Tanaka said, but his grandson chose the most clever explanation.

Sure enough, the atmosphere in the crowd shifted immediately, even the Tama University supervising teacher holding the Yangon official’s arm showed a startled expression.

Insulting Elder Cao?

Honestly, even if there were proof that Tanaka Masakazu insulted Gu Weijing’s grandfather, people wouldn’t react like this.

After all, a lesser-known local painter from Yangon, insulted or not, it’s just that.

People may treat you politely on the surface, but no one truly sees Gu Tongxiang as someone significant.

But insulting Elder Cao is a different matter.

Not mentioning this might be Elder Cao’s last time holding a brush.

Among the accompanying artists, some were direct disciples of Master Cao Xuan.

Even if not, those latecomers coming from a traditional painting background likely wouldn’t dare claim they weren’t influenced by this towering figure of Eastern Art.

Insulting Elder Cao in such circumstances, at least morally, people would find it hard to criticize hitting.

In Asia, where teacher-student lineage is held in high regard, if we went back two or three hundred years, insulting someone’s teacher might justify physical retaliation.

[What heinous reason would compel such a polite child to resort to hitting?]

This was the hint Gu Tongxiang gave his grandson.

Gu Weijing undoubtedly reacted quickly.

After all, the old man had spent a lifetime surviving the turmoil of Myanmar, far from being an innocent, kind-hearted old rabbit.

In terms of painting, he might not match those artists born into comfort.

But in terms of worldly experience, those who grew up in peace, inside the ivory tower, teaching and painting, might not measure up to him.

This might not be the best choice.

But it’s a rather helpless choice.

”Insulting Elder Cao.”

Gu Tongxiang furiously said, staring at the fallen Tanaka: ”Scum.”

”You’re lying, when did I insult Elder Cao? Where’s your evidence.”

Tanaka Masakazu finally decided not to play dead anymore, if there’s a real issue, he would retaliate against Gu Weijing.

But he knew he wasn’t even bruised, a hospital would find nothing wrong.

Should he be carried away under the false accusation of insulting an elder?

The script wasn’t supposed to be like this.

So vicious.

I framed you, and you didn’t meekly fall for it but instead tried to slander me.

He opened his eyes, sat up, and glared angrily at Gu Weijing.

”Alright. We’re men of letters, what’s this noisy commotion supposed to be?”

A hoarse voice came from the crowd, quiet yet carrying an indescribable authority.

Just like a lion king gently snoring, causing the rabbits and monkeys in the jungle to silence immediately.

Gu Weijing’s gaze settled on a skinny old man in the crowd.

The old man held a cane, wore a dark Tang suit, and seemed so light that a gust of wind might blow him away.

Perhaps truly afraid of the wind, the crowd surrounded him tightly, placing him right at the center.

These normally arrogant artists, esteemed by gallery owners and painting agents, were as obedient as schoolchildren following their teacher when the old man spoke.

Even the previously clamorous Tanaka Masakazu quieted down immediately.

Project co-director, Master of Chinese Painting, International Advisor.

Cao Xuan, Elder Cao.

”Kid, you say he insulted me, I find it hard to believe, what do you say?” The little old man asked, scrutinizing Gu Weijing.

This was the first time Gu Weijing had seen Cao Xuan in person from such a close distance.

He realized this little old man was older than his grandfather, with more pronounced wrinkles on his cheeks and forehead compared to the photos, but his eyes didn’t look cloudy at all.

The pupils were very black, the whites very white; a mix of the wisdom of age and childlike innocence, as if he could see right through you with a glance.

This is about evidence.

Gu Weijing knew now was not the time to retreat; since he spoke of the other insulting Elder Cao, he had no way back.

If even you yourself can’t articulate your point, why should others believe you?

Gu Weijing said, ”I don’t know why the other party would say such things. But the first thing Mr. Tanaka said upon meeting was that the true culture of Dongxia resides in Japan. He looked down on Dongxia’s culture, and when he saw I wasn’t willing to engage with him, tried to leave, he then mocked Mr. Cao, the prominent Chinese painter. Miss Sakai also heard him say this.”

Tanaka Masakazu’s pupils suddenly shrank; he merely intended to provoke Gu Weijing, without much thought.

Cao Xuan didn’t respond.

The old man just stared at him with an amused look, as if seeing right through to his core.

”Oh? He really said that.”

Elder Cao turned his gaze to the Sakai siblings.

Koizumi Katsuko hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

”At that time, I was talking with Mr. Gu when Tanaka came over and indeed acted very rudely. As for what happened later, I didn’t know, but Mr. Gu was going to leave when he suddenly punched Tanaka.”

”I, I didn’t mean, I didn’t mean that...”

”So, you’re saying Miss Sakai is lying?”

Tanaka’s attempt to explain was slowly silenced under Elder Cao’s piercing stare.

Young man.

You’ve put me in a difficult position.

The old man regarded him with amusement, feeling that someone of his status arguing with a youngster was beneath him.

To speak the honest truth.

Elder Cao may not necessarily believe Gu Weijing’s account.

But some words.

Must be spoken clearly without any ambiguity.

”Gentlemen, does anyone agree with this viewpoint?”

Elder Cao didn’t speak to Tanaka Masakazu.

His gaze swept the room, even the leading teacher from Tama University lowered their head.

Internationally, there are indeed some hard-to-explain nonsensical talks.

Like no Chinese culture after the Yaoshan incident, or that Dongxia’s culture is rooted in Japan... indeed, many right-wing Japanese harbor this small thought, otherwise, Tanaka wouldn’t have blurted it out unconsciously.

But to say such things in front of Elder Cao is truly shortsighted, unconcerned about the length of their artistic career.

”I personally think this issue has no value for discussion. This is an international cooperative project, and if anyone comes with this mindset today, I’d be very regretful.”

”Well, that’s the end of the matter.”

Elder Cao tapped the floor with his cane, and the attending Japanese artists, seeing the senior not arguing with youngsters, sighed in relief.

”I got hit.”

Tanaka Masakazu was anxious, knowing he was in trouble this time.

If this matter were settled like this, his artistic career would likely be half over.

”I got hit! Are you just going to let the perpetrator go?”

He protested.

”You got hit because you insulted Master Cao, and I think it was deserved.”

Gu Tongxiang interjected coldly.

”I didn’t insult Master Cao; I just think someone who cut in line for a gold-plated position doesn’t deserve to be called a painter.”

Tanaka Masakazu thought it better to speak honestly now.

”If I don’t deserve to be called a painter, and you who insulted your seniors do?” Gu Weijing made a cutting remark from the side.

”I didn’t insult Elder Cao!” Tanaka Masakazu was furious.

”Whether you deserve to be called a painter, a comparison would reveal the truth.”

He unleashed his final trump card.

”What do you think this place is?”

The father of the Sakai siblings, the chubby uncle laughed at this notion, wondering what he was thinking.

”How about tomorrow you bring a piece, and my grandson brings a piece, and let everyone judge who painted it better?”

Gu Tongxiang recalled that colored pencil drawing in the art museum, but the old man didn’t flinch.

”Who’s to say he painted it himself? Why not compare right now?”

”Ridiculous, do you expect these masters to stand around in the cold to watch you two kids draw on the spot?”

Gu Tongxiang didn’t fall for this trap.

He was confident in his grandson, but having so many seasoned artists watching on-site was a different psychological state.

”It won’t take much time, let’s compare sketches, no, quick sketches. Just a few minutes, the loser leaves, the winner stays. Painters speak with their work, dare to compare?”

Tanaka Masakazu looked at Gu Weijing.

It was yet another tactic learned from Japanese manga: don’t reason, use prowess to settle matters like in ”Star of the Giants” with baseball or ”The Prince of Tennis” with rackets, or ”Captain Tsubasa” with soccer.

Recklessness is a privilege unique to youth.

Tanaka Masakazu wanted to use this privilege as a guise to show off a bit.

After all, I’ve studied arts for so many years; I can’t win against the Great Demon King Koizumi Katsuko, but can’t I beat you?