Chapter 12 Masterpiece

[Seventh Night]: I hope you like the gift.

[Seventh Night]: Your husband just has low emotional intelligence. He probably didn’t buy the deathly Barbie pink on purpose.

【Seventh Night】: After all, not all men have aesthetic taste.

Auston is constantly bombarded with messages, and he recently discovered the joy of "Yin Yang" Zhai Yang, "Yin Yang" is a new word he has learned.

On the one hand, he personally sowed discord and continuously made trouble for his enemies, and on the other hand, his work and the matters of the person he liked all collided with each other, making him a little overwhelmed.

Xue Yijie has recently been involved in a "plagiarism scandal" and public opinion continues to ferment.

Xue Yijie was just an unknown person before going abroad.

After he went abroad, the former chairman of the China Artists Association reposted the painting online, and the special creator of the Teikyo Contemporary Chinese Oil Painting Research Institute praised the vitality in it.

One move makes a wave.

The name "Bai" and his works have exploded across the entire Internet like a plague, with no escape possible. People who don't like them are fed up with them every day, while people who like them are extremely crazy about them.

It wasn't until this year that "Bai" showed up, and then someone anonymously revealed similar works and timeline records, accusing Bai of plagiarism.

"So busy." Auston sighed as he was busy investigating.

"We have been quite busy recently and everyone has worked hard." The young assistant agreed seriously. He thought that Auston was talking about work. Recently, for this project, the team in charge had taken turns working overtime for several days and did not dare to slack off for a moment.

“I enjoy it,” Auston said.

"Hmm?" His voice was so soft that the assistant couldn't hear it clearly.

Auston added, "Everyone has worked hard. This month everyone's bonuses will be tripled. Overtime pay should be settled clearly. Don't miss anything."

"Yes, boss!"

As soon as the young assistant came out of the office, he jumped up, made a "Yeah" gesture, and hurried to deliver the good news.

Auston answered the phone in his office and said in a dignified manner, "Don't rush to solve the exhibition issue, lest people accuse us of covering our mouths. Yes, collect evidence, don't release it, and wait until things ferment before dealing with it in detail. There is an old Chinese saying, one strike kills."

"Then you need to go to Mr. Xue..." to comfort him.

"Of course! I believe he will like the paintings of Master Laurence Brown." Auston grabbed a handful of golden hair and pushed the hair that was blocking his vision to the side, and a smile appeared on his handsome and arrogant face.

"Mr. Xue will see your sincerity."

"I hope so."

Auston hung up the phone and called Xue Yijie again.

"Are you okay? I just learned the news. Don't be afraid. We are sending people to check the original IP address as soon as possible." Austin's tone was suddenly filled with anxious concern. "Don't be too sad."

"I'm fine, thank you, Austin." Xue Yijie did not doubt his anxiety.

"Those people are so despicable, so vicious, they just want to destroy you."

"I won't be ruined by them."

"The innocent will be clear." Xue Yijie said.

He hung up the phone and sat in the studio, staring at the empty canvas and thinking about nothing.

The studio has a very high ceiling, with the crown of a tree at the highest point, and the slanted skylight casts a fan-shaped light and shadow on the tree.

Also paint him with fan-shaped light and shadow.

His eyes and eyebrows were like a calm lake, with nothing in between, leaving only a blank space. Similarly, there was nothing in his brain, a blank space, just like the canvas he painted, empty.

It’s so empty that it’s scary, Xue Yijie thought.

Why didn't he feel anything?

He couldn't draw anything.

Xue Yijie casually dipped the brush into the paint, lowered his head and a slightly cold literary melancholy fell from his brows. He leaned back in his chair and continued to daydream.

The sun kissed his drooping hair and eyebrows.

His exhibition still lacks a theme: "Light"

What is light.

Light can be many things, the dazzling and shining light of natural minerals, a smile, floating notes, the clear blue sky, and the majestic floating sun.

The tips of the green grass are dazzling white in the daytime, like waves of wheat or the surging surface of an overexposed lake.

It is the shadow behind the dazzling.

"…It's corruption." Xue Yijie said to herself.

It is his talent that is constantly being baked by the sun like the dry earth.

Xue Yijie put down his paintbrush in dejection. He thought that he was still ruined by that man's love, so much so that he was unwilling to let himself go.

After the protagonist of The Seventh Night died, he returned to the human world and recalled the past, saying that he was insensitive to love. He described his perception of love as a room with closed doors and windows. He heard footsteps outside the door, but he did not think that the footsteps were coming towards him.

Xue Yijie is the opposite of him. He is born sensitive to love.

He heard it early on and knew clearly that the footsteps were coming towards him.

Zhai Yang's love is real, it is not fake.

It was extremely sincere and touching, and every detail was not a disguise, but a true expression of feelings. Xue Yijie was moved by his love.

But a person's love is like a container filled with water. Even if it is 100%, the container itself does not contain love.

Just like water, love cannot exist independently from its container. Similarly, people cannot like someone purely apart from society, and people cannot give 100% of their love.

Therefore…love is never pure.

Xue Yijie's mind flashed with the faint smile on Zhai Yang's cold face. When he smiled, there were some natural smile lines at the corners of his eyes, the muscles at the tip of his nose were moved, and the lines on his thin lips were spread out.

Xue Yijie couldn't remember more details, and he started to feel more and more confused.

They can't go back.

——He has a wife.

He began to imagine his wife uncontrollably and masochistically. Is she pretty? What is her family background like? How do they get along? Will they do anything more intimate?

Xue Yijie suddenly discovered that the blank canvas had been stamped with a few colors by him, a patch of indigo so dark that it was almost black, with a bit of pure white stained on the edge.

His cell phone rang again.

"Hello."

"Hello, Teacher Xue, I'm the assistant who's in charge of picking up the paintings." The voice on the other end sounded excited.

Yes, a few days ago a tightly wrapped collector came to his door and asked to buy one of his early paintings.

He refused.

The brushwork of that early work was immature and full of stiff craftsmanship.

The combination of Chinese techniques and oil painting brushstrokes creates a freehand elegance. The finished product is a bit stiff and far less mature than later works. The only advantage is the use of color that is "fearless like a newborn calf."

The collector insisted again and again. He spoke in a dry and stiff tone, with a slightly chaotic word order, and seemed to be an introverted person. He said he liked the painting of sunflowers very much.

"I like it very much. I like it very much."

"Like my introverted and passionate life." As the collector said this, he pulled his collar and buried his face shyly.

He was moved and decided to give the painting as a gift.

Xue Yijie held the phone in her hand. "Password 1673. Just come up."

"Okay, okay, Mr. Xue! I'll be right up."

"Just take the things away later. I'm going to be out for a while." Xue Yijie stood up.

After he left, the little assistant wearing a painter's hat came into the studio, shouting "wow wow wow", with an excited look of a fan. He looked left and right, and finally stood in front of the easel.

"Bai." He read out the signature in the lower right corner. Teacher Xue has the habit of signing in advance. After the signature is covered later, he will sign again on the finished product.

“This is the final work.”

"Great, great, you are worthy of being a teacher."

He picked up the painting and admired it in the sunlight. "It's so natural and smooth. It's so neat and there's so much blank space! It's a masterpiece, a masterpiece!"

He moved sideways to protect Hua as she walked out the door, holding her in his arms and pressing the elevator button with his elbow.

"Sunflower" leans in the corner.

The painting with a touch of color due to an error was hung by the assistant in the center of the exhibition hall. The pale wall was hung with the pale painting. The spotlight was the only cold light source in the exhibition hall, and the light framed a soft transition circle on the square painting.

The name is inserted on the sign below.

-

A blank, because the painting has no name.

The crowd swarmed to the main painting and stood in front of it for a long time.

"He is silently but forcefully fighting back against previous plagiarism scandals."

"Any insights?"

"White is both his signature and a response. White means empty and clean, but there is a piece of blue-black on it, which means it is stained black, and the dot of white on top means that white occupies the top."

“It seems like there has been a deeper reflection on society.”

"The young are to be feared, the young are to be feared."

A photographer captured the scene of exhibitors carefully observing the paintings. The exhibitors and the works in the camera together constituted the photographer's new work.