The Versatile Master Artist

”It looks quite expensive.”

Gu Weijing was scrolling through a girl’s Instagram homepage while casually opening a window with the tablet’s scheduler and sent a jealous emoji.

He’s not a jewelry enthusiast,

but after spending a long time in Myanmar, he gained some understanding of jade.

Judging by the quality of the jade bracelets and pendants in the photo, the cheapest ones probably cost about ten to twenty thousand US Dollars, while the expensive ones might not go below a hundred thousand Dollars.

”I don’t like it. Since noon, my mom has already picked out six bracelets and three pairs of earrings for herself and me. It’s not over yet; back at the hotel, there’s a special jade appraisal session at the VIP lounge on Aman’s top floor, hosted by the national glass jadeite association. Thinking of her dragging me along for more shopping tonight just bores me to death.”

Shengzi said pleadingly.

”Mr. Gu, please chat with me about the thesis.”

If any other girl were to say such things in front of a table full of exquisite jewels, it might seem like they were flaunting rather than genuinely enjoying.

Not only does Dongxia have a penchant for Versailles literature.

Gu Weijing recalled,

that for a time, local school’s rich girls liked to post scenes on Instagram of accidentally dropping various designer bags or updating on Valentine’s Day with a table full of YSL lipsticks, captioned with words like, ”I have plenty of this color, but my boyfriend insists on buying more, it’s really ridiculous.” Such love-showcasing words.

However,

after spending time with Shengzi, he knew Koizumi Katsuko was always quite straightforward.

Miss Sakai doesn’t need to flaunt.

For a family with an income level such as Uncle Sakai’s, where the annual revenue from art sales is often in the tens of millions of US Dollars, buying a jade bracelet worth several tens of thousands is easier than a local person earning 100 US Dollars a month having a bowl of beef ramen by the roadside.

Such a level of money has long become indifferent.

Miss Shengzi, who grew up in a golden house, carries a natural nobility.

Like or dislike depends entirely on the heart.

If she likes it, she can appreciate a seashell by the beach for half a day; if she doesn’t, even the finest jade is merely glass to her.

”Thesis? Didn’t you already contact the email of the ’Asian Art’ journal to submit it? Has the result come out now?” Gu Weijing replied in confusion.

That’s too fast.

”Of course not that fast, such biannual publishers work slowly, with only a few old editors needing to coordinate available professors for review. I meant to ask that during thesis writing, Mr. Gu, have you had similar reflections as I do when I admire or copy the paintings of the female artist, Carol? I keep wondering...”

On the screen,

Koizumi Katsuko paused for over ten seconds before she faintly typed.

”I keep wondering, do you reckon our thesis, our copies might awaken this ’Old Church on a Stormy Day’ and the female artist’s reincarnation?”

Reincarnation?

This uncommon term left Gu Weijing somewhat puzzled.

While they always conversed in English on the chat software, Shengzi had switched the word ”reincarnation” to Chinese... or perhaps Japanese.

In Japanese, these two characters have not been simplified by Katakana, fully retaining the same writing style as Chinese, both being Buddhist terms representing reincarnation in the next life.

”A painting has a reincarnation? I don’t quite understand.”

Gu Weijing had never heard of such a literary and mysterious expression.

He expressed some bewilderment.

”It’s a concept introduced to me by senior Takashi Murakami; you know Takashi Murakami, right?”

”Of course, of course. Wow! Shengzi, you know Takashi Murakami. Though expected, it’s still amazing.”

Gu Weijing was familiar with this formidable Asian artist whose name echoed far and wide.

This is Takashi Murakami,

once hailed as the foremost among the world’s mid-generation artists.

At his peak, a casually designed cartoon figure model could sell for five million US Dollars.

In the Asian and global art circles, if there were truly a ranking of artists that are still alive, only Elder Cao from Dongxia, Germany’s Gerhard Richter, and Japan’s Yayoi Kusama — modern art history living fossils of nearly a hundred years old — might outshine Takashi Murakami.

Even though Takashi Murakami’s paintings have seen a significant market price drop, Professor Jiu Kai Ichiro might still be a tad inferior in comparison.

”The first time I heard of this term was probably around 2009. I was just a primary school student then, not quite remembering the exact time.”

Apparently, the jade private plates on the Treasure Ship were indeed dull, as Koizumi Katsuko was rather chatty.

She recalled her childhood stories.

Koizumi Katsuko reminisced: ”I only remember that one day after school, my dad drove my brother and me to see Takashi Murakami’s exhibition held at the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum.

It was a large exhibition, and ’Time Magazine’ wanted to write a special feature on senior Takashi Murakami. Various European and American journalists, along with the US ambassador’s wife to Japan, were all present. Takashi Murakami was surrounded, everyone eager to say a few words to this era-defining great artist.

Back then, my father was far less famous than now, so I had never seen such a scene. Enviously, I shouted that I would become a greater artist than him in the future.”