The Versatile Master Artist

Aunt frantically rattled off a string of complaints about the grandfather and grandson duo like a machine gun, even the business translator couldn’t keep up with the rapid-fire pace of a woman caught in the throes of menopause.

After her tirade, the aunt finally remembered the guest beside her who had just spent over a thousand US dollars on a painting.

”That Gu Weijing is my nephew. He’s still in high school and can’t create any good paintings. If you want to commission any work, you can look for Old Gu in our family; he’s a member of the Yangon Calligraphy and Painting Association...”

”Hmm, it doesn’t seem like this family atmosphere is very good.”

Hanks nodded internally, making a judgment.

A cracked family environment, this background has quite the artist’s vibe.

One of the common starting points of a great painter.

Hanks reconsidered his offer, thinking the forty thousand dollars per year for creative allowance he envisioned was a bit too high.

Unfortunately,

Gu Weijing’s guardian wasn’t this nagging, resentful, middle-aged woman in front of him.

He was almost eighteen, legally nearly capable of all civil actions.

At this age, signing a contract must have the person’s consent.

Otherwise, Hanks was confident he could buy the contract for a few thousand dollars as a kickback from her. Then, in the role of a Savior, take Gu Weijing away from his original family to a broader sky, gaining both benefits and goodwill.

Wouldn’t that be awesome?

”Ma’am, I hope to meet Mr. Gu Tongxiang. Here is my business card; I have something important to discuss with him regarding Gu Weijing.”

Hanks handed over a business card.

Aunt took the card with a frown; her English was mediocre but she recognized the words on the card—

”Manac’h Gallery?”

In the study on the second floor,

Gu Tongxiang, who was bored reading a slightly yellowed old Hong Kong martial arts novel, turned his head, his gaze through his reading glasses fell upon the business card in his hand.

He had never seen such a creatively designed business card, the left two edges were straight lines, while the right two were curves with varying curvatures.

The four edges formed a shape that seemed rectangular, arc-like, fan-shaped yet asymmetrical.

It had no gaudy gold or silver accents, yet was memorable at a glance—a very clever design.

”Manac’h Gallery, Manac’h Gallery, Manac’h Gallery? This card is printed fancily but doesn’t even have an address on it.”

By the desk,

The aunt glanced at the card pinched in Mr. Gu Tongxiang’s hand, which she found gaudy, and said with some vigilance, ”Dad, this guy isn’t from a new gallery in Yangon snooping around, is he? No wonder he bought so many of our paintings today; it’s like a weasel giving New Year’s greetings to a chicken—up to no good!”

”Manac’h Gallery, it sounds somewhat familiar.”

Gu Tongxiang stroked his beard.

He vaguely felt he had heard this name somewhere before.

But for the moment, he couldn’t quite recall.

”Did they mention their purpose?”

”It’s for Weijing.” The aunt raised her eyebrows, ”This kid is restless. Recently, he just got involved with Brother Hao, now he’s attracting such people. Keep spoiling him like this!”

”Kids need to be educated more.”

Gu Tongxiang waved his hand, cutting off his daughter-in-law’s nagging.

The old man’s hand suddenly shook.

”You said... looking for Gu Weijing, Manac’h Gallery, this seems like Ma Shi Gallery!” Gu Tongxiang finally remembered the name.

The old man’s Adam’s apple moved, swallowing hard.

The reason why someone who had been running a calligraphy and painting shop for half his life like Gu Tongxiang didn’t immediately connect Manac’h Gallery and Ma Shi Gallery.

Mainly because this name was way out of reach for their small business.

A small merchant at the port selling grain wouldn’t care or even have heard of [Glencore], a super giant in the top 500 companies worldwide, just behind the Industrial and Commercial Bank and Shell Oil.

Every industry is a towering tree.

Gu’s Painting and Calligraphy Gallery is a small business rooted in the muddy roots; the Komatsu family’s Xiaosong Gallery is like the sturdy trunk of that tree, while the giant galleries hover among the clouds, wielding influence across the field, nourishing the land.

Despite Ma Shi Gallery’s evident decline in recent years, with signs of falling back from the clouds to the tree crown, it was still beyond the reach for a gallery like Gu’s Painting and Calligraphy Gallery.

With the arrogance of such top galleries.

They wouldn’t even consider the entire Myanmar calligraphy and painting industry; if they were to establish an art creative park in Yangon or something, they wouldn’t acquire galleries that were mixed like small sundry shops.

So...

”The card says Agent Hanks Ma Shi. Looking for my grandson Gu Weijing?” The old man thought of a possibility; his heart raced, yet he didn’t dare let himself hope too much lest be disappointed later.

”Go call, no, please invite the gentleman up. I will go change.”

Old Gu glanced at his loose and worn-out t-shirt, instructed his daughter-in-law, and rushed urgently towards the bedroom.

...

”Mr. Gu Tongxiang, pleased to meet you.”

Hanks shook hands with Mr. Gu; these words were spoken not in English or Burmese but purely in Mandarin, and quite accurately pronounced without the foreigner’s usual awkward accent.

He learned from Professor Yajima that this family were Chinese descendants.

These days, money makes the man.

The most fervent in the art market are Asia and Dongxia’s transaction volume is among the top every year. Don’t just look at how every now and then some Middle Eastern prince or oil magnate spends billions of US dollars on art auctions.