The Versatile Master Artist

Gu Weijing did not plan to visit the orphanage today.

Besides preparing to go home to replicate ”Old Church” again, every Friday night was the scheduled time for his video lesson with Professor Lin Tao.

The award-winning ”Hundred Flowers Painting” by Lady Tang Ning, Professor Lin Tao’s junior sister, at the Shanghai Art Exhibition, had already been mailed to Gu Weijing.

He now had the materials to copy from.

Professor Lin would meticulously explain the painting techniques for various flowers and natural scenes to him.

For instance, last week’s lesson covered the daylily.

Daylilies are also known as the ”flower of forgetfulness,” and it has been said since ancient times in Huaxia that daylilies can help forget one’s worries.

When painting the leaves, avoid deep green; add some malachite and ink to prevent fiery or vulgarity.

Simultaneously, the branches and leaves should vary in length, and the petals should be sparse yet dense, seemingly chaotic yet orderly, properly interspersed, graceful in posture.

These detailed insights are precious experiences that others can hardly seek, and few people aside from close mentors would generously impart them.

Gu Weijing walked out of the campus, the noise of the crowd hitting him face-on.

The campus’s main entrance is located at several famous commercial streets.

There are couple cafes, electronics stores, luxury clothing shops, high-end internet cafes, and even a go-kart club.

The students from the international school have decent spending power, and many young people in these places are wearing Fitz uniforms.

He turned the corner, preparing to hail a taxi home.

Just then,

Bang!

Suddenly, there was a sharp sound like firecrackers.

Gu Weijing saw, about ten meters away from him, a middle-aged man in a black T-shirt waiting to cross the street suddenly fell limply, his head hitting the ground.

”Gang conflict?”

The afternoon conversation with Mrs. Sakai felt like a strong drink, making Gu Weijing a bit dazed.

But the gunshot cleared him up quickly.

Gu Weijing had just witnessed a shooting.

A person died,

right in front of him.

If it were in classic Hong Kong films like ”Infernal Affairs,” the gang conflict would surely be accompanied by a prolonged chase, encounters on rooftops, with tense background music. If directed by Akira Kurosawa in a Japanese film, there would probably be several long shot close-ups before self-reflective dialogues on ”man’s justice.”

But in chaotic Myanmar,

everything begins and ends so swiftly.

Brutal and dry.

Just a light, not so loud gunshot,

with the bullet entering the back of the head at close range among the passing human figures, the man fell forward, and the gunman quickly vanished into the crowd.

Even the onlookers had somewhat grown accustomed, quickly regaining calm after brief panic and screams upon realizing the gunman was gone.

Some boldly boys even took out their phones to start taking pictures of the scene.

According to Myanmar’s national security report, there have been 2,570 bomb explosions in public places over the past half year alone; a gang-related shooting is just idle chatter over dinner.

”Mr. Xiao Gu? You are here too?”

Gu Weijing saw someone already making a phone call to report the matter but had no intention to watch the commotion and was ready to leave the scene.

At this moment, someone patted his shoulder.

”It’s you?”

Gu Weijing turned his head, his pupils slightly contracted.

He hadn’t expected to encounter someone familiar here; it was Bald, who had previously sought him out during the Spring Festival.

Not far from Bald, a few of his subordinates gazed at the direction where the middle-aged man fell, eyes filled with a fierce and wild excitement at the sight of blood.

One of Yangon Godfather’s VIP protection group officers stood guard in front of their family’s painting shop for two weeks.

Only after Elder Cao left Myanmar did the guard withdraw.

This was a clear statement of not wanting to associate with the underworld,

Brother Hao’s men had not visited since.

Gu Weijing originally thought the matter had ended, not expecting to bump into Bald here again.

Was the other party waiting for him?

”No, don’t misunderstand. I have other matters today. But I indeed wanted to find you, planning to visit Mr. Xiao Gu’s gallery in a few days. Since we’re meeting today, it’s more convenient.”

Bald gestured toward a cafe nearby, offering a hand: ”I bear no malice; Brother Hao appreciates you and asked me to relay a couple of words.”

At a window seat in the cafe, the server brought over two cups of American coffee.

”Choose first... Don’t worry, mixing drugs into drinks is something only small-time drug dealers do; Brother Hao is a man of his word, feel free to drink.”

Bald pushed the two cups to the center of the table.

”A man of his word... hehe, was the shooting just now your doing?”

Gu Weijing’s lips curled into a cold smile.

Though only a month has passed, he no longer needed to tread cautiously like during the Spring Festival, fearing to offend the other party.

Connections are power.

If he spoke, whether Uncle Sakai or Mr. Cao Xuan, even Assistant Old Yang or Professor Lin Tao.

Arranging to leave Yangon and study elsewhere wasn’t difficult.

Uncle Sakai had previously suggested transferring to Japan’s English international school for this semester, allowing him to live in their home.

It’s only because Good Fortune Orphanage is in Yangon, and Gu Weijing’s schedule has been tight for the past half year.

The artwork for the Singapore Art Exhibition was still out of his reach, switching to a new environment would take time to adapt, he decided not to do it.