My Waste Husband

Chapter 136

Sylvia glanced at the business card on the table.

Wanhe Art Gallery.

Sylvia was somewhat impressed. It seemed that this was the largest art gallery in the entire Yinzhou. She had paid attention to it twice. But Lins Group didn't do this kind of business, so she didn't have any intersection with it.

When Richard heard what the people on his table said, he waved his hand. "Boss Wu, what are you talking about? No matter how big the gallery is, it is not as good as having one masterpiece. Beautiful ladies, are you here today to collect the paintings or to validate them?"

Richard narrowed his eyes and kept glancing at Sylvia and the other two girls. These three beautiful women had totally different styles, which made him look at them in a daze.

"We are just having a meal and chatting with a friend." Henry interrupted Richard.

"This isn't a place where you just come to eat," Richard said with a smile. "I wonder which of you are qualified to sit here?"

When Richard asked about them, in fact, he only asked Henry and Mark.

Now everyone in the tea house could see that Richard's mind was on the three beautiful women.

Mark threw out a business card and asked, "So? Do you think we're qualified?"

"A senior member of the Chinese Painting Association, the president of Yanjing Modern Painting Exhibition?" Richard picked up this business card and looked at the title on it with a disdainful smile. "I thought you were a big name who drank tea and talked cheerfully."

"A senior member of the association and the president of Modern Painting Exhibition means nothing." A middle-aged man sitting at the same table as Richard said.

Henry raised his eyebrows. He knew that he couldn't have a good meal today.

Mark's face was a bit unsightly. No one would be happy to be so openly mocked by others. He looked at the middle-aged man who had just spoken and asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm nobody." The middle-aged man picked up a cup of tea and said with a smile, "I'm Bai Yu, honorary member of the Chinese Painting Association and the vice president of the Suhang Traditional Chinese Painting Association."

The title that the middle-aged man had mentioned caused Mark's face to freeze.

The honorary members of the association and senior members were totally different.

Senior members needed to submit their applications themselves to enter the association, and they could apply to become senior members when their painting skills reached a certain level.

As for honorary members, they didn't need to submit anything. Instead, they were invited by the Association to become honorary members.

There was a huge difference between them.

The other title of vice president of the association of Suhang was even more valuable.

As was known to all, Suhang, the south of the Yangtze River, was the most poetic place in China. Suhang was popular in ancient times, and it was also the place with the most prosperous culture in China. It could be said that as the vice president of the Suhang Traditional Painting Association, he was quite well-established.

"Bai Yu?" Henry was a little confused. He looked up and saw several landscape paintings on the wall of the restaurant, all had name Bai on them.

Seeing the change in Marks expression, Bai nodded with satisfaction. In this restaurant, whenever he mentioned his identity, people would be extremely surprised. Yu Bai enjoyed this kind of feeling very much.

Bai stood up and said, "Young man, there is a rule when you come here. There is a limit to the number of seats. Many professionals drive here every day. Because there are no seats, they return in low spirits. You came here and talked about family affairs. I'm afraid it's not appropriate."

"That makes sense. This tea house is suitable for talking about painting and enjoying paintings. It's not suitable to talk about other things here." said the man who was just glorifying Richard's gallery a couple of moments ago.

Mark's face was a bit unsightly. All scholars had their own pride, and he was no exception. At this moment, he had been provoked many times by others here, and he was still in his own field of expertise.

Mark put down the chopsticks in his hand, stood up, and said, "Guys, what do you want to talk about, talk about painting, praising the painting, validating the painting, or competing with each other?"

Mark's voice was not loud, but it attracted the attention of everyone in the restaurant.

As soon as these words came out, everyone knew that there should be a competition!

"Haha." Bai chuckled, "Young man, you are just a senior member of the association. How dare you say these words without shame?"

Mark retorted, "Art has nothing to do with age. Why shouldn't I dare?"

"Okay!" Bai patted the table and also stood up. "Since you want to compete, let's compete. You are young so I won't talk about your painting skills. It's almost twelve o'clock. According to the rules of the tea house, the boss will take out a masterpiece. Why don't we compete in identifying the painting?"

"Whatever," Mark replied.

Henry sat there and looked at Bai. He felt that this guy was more or less shameless.

When it came to identifying painting, the experience was more important than talent. Bai was more than ten years older than Mark, he had much more experience, therefore he had the advantage. But it was different when compared to painting. Painting was based on one's talent and comprehension. There were a lot of young and talented painters who surpassed the senior painter.

Henry looked at the traditional paintings on the wall of the restaurant. In the eyes of ordinary people, they were smooth and detached, but in his eyes, they were just average paintings. There were many flaws in each painting, and there was also a lot of cutting. There was no spirit charm in the painting, and there was no artistic conception.

Bai's words meant that Mark was young so he didn't want to compete in painting. Obviously, he did not have much confidence in his painting skills. In this way, the identity of the so-called honorary member of the painting association had to be considered. Although there was no possibility of making a fake one, it was worth considering its value.

At 12 o'clock in the afternoon, the restaurant owner took out an ink-wash painting on a Chinese art paper. It was of high quality and a bit yellow. There were two or three shrimps in the painting. The painter used both bright and dark colors. This simple ink-wash painting gave people a vivid feeling.

The restaurant owner hung the painting on the wall for people to enjoy.

The customers, who were eating, also set their eyes on the painting.

"This is..."

"When you see shrimps, you will think of a master who loved drawing shrimp."

"This painting is good, and it has some artistic conception."

"I don't know who made it." NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

The customers looked at the ink-colored shrimp and spoke one after another.

"It's The Black Shrimp, the work of Master Qi of modern times." Mark looked at it and confirmed, "Master Qi liked drawing shrimp very much. Look at this painting, the ink is vigorous, a mix of dark and light colors, the shape of shrimps is concise and vivid, and the artistic conception of the shrimp is simple and honest. An extremely interesting piece of work."

"Ah." Mark had just finished speaking when he heard Bai's voice. "The Black Shrimp is one of Master Qi's most famous paintings. It took you a few seconds to recognize him. Let me ask you, is this painting authentic or copy?"

Mark looked at it for a few seconds and then said, "It's fake."

"What a joke!" Bai shouted, "It's not possible to tell whether it's real or not. How can you have the courage to compete with me in terms of identifying the painting!"