XNUM X night
Chapter 4 Thorn Trading
"You just said... who do you want me to save?"
Sang Yintian had a really hard time today, with the night wind blowing, staying up late painting, and not sleeping well at home during the day, just after 8 o'clock in the evening, Sang Yintian began to have a severe headache.Two arms staggered to hug his body and curled up on the sofa, but this heart-wrenching pain did not subside with the passage of time, on the contrary, it became more and more painful.
In order to relieve the pain, Sang Yintian turned on the projector in the living room and randomly selected a live broadcast of famous painting appreciation.Sang Yintian had watched this show a few times before. The materials selected for the show were good, but the invited guests were not so good.
Appreciating famous paintings is fake, but it is true to show your face out of the circle and want to be popular.But art itself was born on ruins and endless wilderness, and he would never need these false and vulgar decorative items.
The intense pain drove Sang Yintian to hug himself tightly. A few minutes later, he closed his eyes and fell back onto the sofa, breathing gradually short of breath.
Before the person who promised to come to pick up the painting came, Sang Yintian suddenly regretted it. If he knew it would take so long, he might as well ask Xiaohan to come to the house after dinner in the afternoon and move the painting to the studio .What's more, Sang Yintian doesn't really want to meet a stranger in his current appearance.
"This painting is called "The Four Girls of Osgardstrand". Edvard Munch, who lived in Osgardstrand, let his four neighbor children face to face against the wall, and then painted This famous painting. From this painting, we can feel a kind of trust and intimacy of neighbor children to Munch..."
The vertical speaker in the corner was just bought by Sang Yintian from abroad not long ago. No matter which tricky position you place, the sound of commentary will always be transmitted to Sang Yintian's ears. He opened his eyes and turned his head to look Live broadcast to the projection screen on the wall.
"Yes, in all the paintings of the painter Munch, children are always independent..." A collector sitting on the stage smiled.
Sang Yintian became even more irritable.He couldn't help but lower the volume, bent his body and frowned, and wrapped his hands tightly around his shoulders.Leng Meigui remembered some past events, and he was a little sad.So when no one was around, he stretched out all the thorns on his body to keep himself absolutely rational.
There are many famous paintings with children as artistic themes that have been preserved, and collectors only see the surface of them.
But Sang Yintian is a painter, he seems to be able to resonate with every painting, and all the emotions hidden in the painting cannot hide from his eyes.
Sang Yintian sat up suddenly, and clicked on the real-time barrage of the live broadcast.
Sure enough, the entire barrage area was full of exaggerations.Even if there are bad comments, they will be withdrawn and deleted by the administrator of the live broadcast room within minutes.Sang Yintian randomly picked a few and glanced at them, and couldn't help but shook his head.
[@小狼狗狗吃吃jelly: I seem to have seen this somewhere!If I remember correctly, it should be a painting from 1900! 】
Sang Yintian frowned, "It's obviously 1903..."
[@死的粉子: Although the painting is a bit abstract, I think Munch should like children very much.Hey, let me tell you first, I don't know much about art, so please lightly spray if you have any comments.The housekeeper must not be slippery! 】
【@火忍身的爱情不数: Haha, the desire to survive upstairs is too strong. 】
As a painter, Sang Yintian suffered another occupational disease. He subconsciously logged into his Weibo account and swipe his fingertips on the screen of his mobile phone.
[@杨引蒂 Reply @话的粉子: Edvard Munch, a Norwegian painter, lost his mother at the age of 5, and his relationship with his father was tepid.Most of his paintings are mixed with a sad and depressive mood. The reason why he painted these four children is because he thought of himself, and he integrated his childhood experience into the paintings. 】
Just like the "flame rose" he created before, it is a desperate and silent cry.
[@死的粉子: Wow wow wow!I am not wrong, right!Just replied to mine!Is it really Sang Yintian himself!Sang Sangzi! ! 】
[@Cannon fodder up up: Damn, it's really his own Weibo account, with official certification!Teacher Sangsang!Ahhh!Look at me look at me, I love your paintings so much! 】
[@小狼狼狗狗吃吃jelly: Mom, I reposted Sangsang’s new Weibo this morning, and I actually squatted here tonight!Oh my god...don't worry my family, I'll go buy a lottery ticket right away. 】
……
"Sang... Sang Sang?" Sang Yintian's whole face collapsed.It's just that he hasn't read the Weibo topic for a while, so why does he have a strange title.
Soon, the bullet screens in the live broadcast room were all filled with the three words Sang Yintian, so that the host who was appreciating the live broadcast couldn't help laughing and teasing a few words.
Probably, he also saw the reply left by Sang Yintian in the comment area.
"That's right, as Mr. Sang said just now, the content of Edvard Munch's paintings is to portray the inner world rather than the outer reality." The host stared at the camera with a smile on his face, as if he was looking at him.
Sang Yintian felt a little uncomfortable being stared at, and decisively swiped up and exited the live broadcast room.
"Ding-dong-"
The electronic doorbell on the gate rang, Sang Yintian looked lazy, got up from the sofa, kicked his slippers and slowly moved to the gate, bent over and lay on the cat's eye.
Standing outside his house were Xiaohan and a strange man.The man was wearing a black mask, and Sang Yintian couldn't see his face clearly.But he was not surprised.Because in their circle, there are many rich people who don't like to show their faces in order to get their favorite collections and are afraid of getting into other troubles.
It's not a big deal.
"Brother Yintian, are you home?" Xiaohan rang the doorbell, and at the same time fumbled for her cell phone from her pocket to call Sang Yintian, "It's strange... Is Brother Yintian asleep...Forget it, I still Give him a call—"
"Click-"
The door opened, and Sang Yintian leaned against the doorframe with a laziness on his face, and smiled at the two outside the door.This expression is true and false no matter how you look at it.
Xiaohan couldn't help coughing, and turned her head to glance at the man behind her. "Mr. Ye, this is the boss of our studio, Sang Yintian."
"Hello." Sure enough, the man did not intend to take off his mask.
"Come in." Sang Yintian glanced at the man standing beside Xiaohan, stood up straight and returned to the sofa. "The painting is there."
He pointed to the easel in the corner.The huge canvas is still hanging on the white drawing board, the wooden ladder in front has not been removed, and the messy paint is stained all over the floor.Sang Yintian's overalls were still lying on the ground next to him, but it seemed that he couldn't wear them anymore.
"Uh..." Xiaohan smiled awkwardly, "Well, Mr. Ye, I'm sorry, this painting was drawn by Brother Yintian who stayed up all night yesterday. I'm a little tight on time, maybe I haven't had time to sort it out—"
"It's okay." The man's voice was a little cold. He took two steps forward and stood in front of the picture. "It's a good painting."
The man surnamed Ye didn't look back.
"Not bad? Do you mean my painting technique, or the person in the painting?" Sang Yintian smiled and crossed his legs.He gently pinned his messy hair behind his ears, "Mr. Ye, you should not be in this circle."
Sang Yintian's intuition has never deviated.
"Yes, I am not."
"Then I have to ask you for a reason." Sang Yintian half-closed his eyes, half of his drowsiness was dispelled, "If this reason can't convince me, then the real owner of this painting will not be you .”
The man standing in front of the drawing board finally couldn't help sighing, turned around slowly, and took off the black mask.
"You...you are..."
Sang Yintian sat up from the sofa with a "bass", his eyes widened instantly, and he even felt a little unbelievable.His eyes kept wandering between the man in front of him and the drawing board behind him, and finally settled on the man's face again.
The man standing in front of him looks like he copied and pasted the boy in his painting.But after staring at it for a long time, it doesn't seem to be the same at all.
Sang Yintian was a little confused.
"Ye... Your surname is also Ye?" Sang Yintian realized that when Xiaohan introduced him just now, he called him "Mr. Ye".
"Hi, my name is Ye Wanlu, and it's Ye Siran's...brother." The man finally stretched out his hand, "The boy in "The Thorns" is my own brother."
No wonder Ye Wanlu successfully contacted his studio, found his assistant, and made an unreasonable request to buy the painting at a high price within two hours after "Thorns" was released.
In this way, everything makes sense.
"So that's how it is." Sang Yintian's tone didn't have any waves, not even the slightest surprise.
Ye Wanlu was a little surprised, but out of politeness, he smiled and withdrew his hand. "The price we negotiated before will not change in any way. The reason why I came to you is not only to buy this painting, but also to have another matter... I want your help." Ye Wanlu sat on the sofa, The right hand subconsciously loosened the black tie around his neck. "Of course, don't worry, that's another price."
Sang Yintian hates others asking for money in front of him.
"Mr. Ye, I think you may have made a mistake. I am a painter, and only a painter. I never make friends with you businessmen." Sang Yintian closed his eyes and smiled emotionlessly, " I mean, I don't like negotiating deals with anybody."
"Since the person in this painting is your younger brother, even if I want to go back on my word now, isn't it justified?" Sang Yintian turned to look at Xiaohan and winked at her, "About the specific bank account of our studio You can ask my assistant directly, I am very tired now and want to go to rest."
After speaking, Sang Yintian picked up the pillow that fell on the carpet, and stepped up the steps on one side to go to the bedroom on the first floor to rest.Helplessly, Ye Wanli suddenly stood in front of him.
"Teacher Sang, please...save Ye Siran."
Everything was quiet, the sun was just right at this time, the white pigeon resting on the roof jumped up and disappeared, and the bitter cold wind also squeezed in through the gaps in the glass windows, blowing the light-colored blinds to creak ring.Sang Yintian's right hand was stuck on the handrail of the stairs, and his little finger bent subconsciously.
It seems that a long, long time ago, Sang Yintian stood outside the operating room, trembling violently, and he said the same thing.
"Save them."
At that time, Sang Yintian was alone, with a gray smock covered with paint on the outside of the hoodie.The new and the old are mixed together in a mess.He was standing in the corridor of the hospital holding a paintbrush, his whole body was tightly wrapped by the smell of alcohol disinfectant, within a few seconds, Sang Yintian suddenly covered his mouth and rushed to the bathroom at the end of the corridor.
"Save them." Sang Yintian repeated these few words countless times in his dream.
"Brother Yintian? You, are you okay...Your complexion is not very good." Xiaohan ran over in a hurry, holding Sang Yintian's arm with one hand.
Sang Yintian felt a little nauseous.The stomach was overwhelmed, and the throat was more like being burned by a fire, hot and tormented.He lowered his head and gently shook off Xiaohan's arm. "I'm fine, maybe it's because I didn't eat much all day today. Xiaohan, please help me go out and buy some food now. Don't be too greasy, it should be lighter."
"Okay, I, I, I will go right away." Xiaohan seemed to be frightened by Sang Yintian's face now, she looked nervous, and looked back at Ye Wanlu. "Mr. Ye, please...help me take care of Brother Yintian first, I will be back soon."
After finishing speaking, Xiaohan rushed out of the door without looking back.
Ye Wanlu subconsciously took two steps forward, trying to help Sang Yintian onto the stool next to her.It's a pity that this person seems to be different from what he thought, and he is resisting anyone's touch from the bottom of his heart.
"Don't move." Sang Yintian lowered his head and glanced at Ye Wanlu. "If you have something to say, just stand there and say it. I can hear you."
"Teacher Sang, your situation is not very good." Ye Wanlu stopped where she was.
"That's not the point." All of Sang Yintian's thoughts were focused on Ye Wanlu's words just now, he suppressed the disgust, and looked back with a pale and sick face. "You just said... who do you want me to save?"
The author says:
Hot searches on Weibo today: [#河城城中心There was a traffic accident, a middle-aged couple was buried in a sea of fire#]
Sang Yintian had a really hard time today, with the night wind blowing, staying up late painting, and not sleeping well at home during the day, just after 8 o'clock in the evening, Sang Yintian began to have a severe headache.Two arms staggered to hug his body and curled up on the sofa, but this heart-wrenching pain did not subside with the passage of time, on the contrary, it became more and more painful.
In order to relieve the pain, Sang Yintian turned on the projector in the living room and randomly selected a live broadcast of famous painting appreciation.Sang Yintian had watched this show a few times before. The materials selected for the show were good, but the invited guests were not so good.
Appreciating famous paintings is fake, but it is true to show your face out of the circle and want to be popular.But art itself was born on ruins and endless wilderness, and he would never need these false and vulgar decorative items.
The intense pain drove Sang Yintian to hug himself tightly. A few minutes later, he closed his eyes and fell back onto the sofa, breathing gradually short of breath.
Before the person who promised to come to pick up the painting came, Sang Yintian suddenly regretted it. If he knew it would take so long, he might as well ask Xiaohan to come to the house after dinner in the afternoon and move the painting to the studio .What's more, Sang Yintian doesn't really want to meet a stranger in his current appearance.
"This painting is called "The Four Girls of Osgardstrand". Edvard Munch, who lived in Osgardstrand, let his four neighbor children face to face against the wall, and then painted This famous painting. From this painting, we can feel a kind of trust and intimacy of neighbor children to Munch..."
The vertical speaker in the corner was just bought by Sang Yintian from abroad not long ago. No matter which tricky position you place, the sound of commentary will always be transmitted to Sang Yintian's ears. He opened his eyes and turned his head to look Live broadcast to the projection screen on the wall.
"Yes, in all the paintings of the painter Munch, children are always independent..." A collector sitting on the stage smiled.
Sang Yintian became even more irritable.He couldn't help but lower the volume, bent his body and frowned, and wrapped his hands tightly around his shoulders.Leng Meigui remembered some past events, and he was a little sad.So when no one was around, he stretched out all the thorns on his body to keep himself absolutely rational.
There are many famous paintings with children as artistic themes that have been preserved, and collectors only see the surface of them.
But Sang Yintian is a painter, he seems to be able to resonate with every painting, and all the emotions hidden in the painting cannot hide from his eyes.
Sang Yintian sat up suddenly, and clicked on the real-time barrage of the live broadcast.
Sure enough, the entire barrage area was full of exaggerations.Even if there are bad comments, they will be withdrawn and deleted by the administrator of the live broadcast room within minutes.Sang Yintian randomly picked a few and glanced at them, and couldn't help but shook his head.
[@小狼狗狗吃吃jelly: I seem to have seen this somewhere!If I remember correctly, it should be a painting from 1900! 】
Sang Yintian frowned, "It's obviously 1903..."
[@死的粉子: Although the painting is a bit abstract, I think Munch should like children very much.Hey, let me tell you first, I don't know much about art, so please lightly spray if you have any comments.The housekeeper must not be slippery! 】
【@火忍身的爱情不数: Haha, the desire to survive upstairs is too strong. 】
As a painter, Sang Yintian suffered another occupational disease. He subconsciously logged into his Weibo account and swipe his fingertips on the screen of his mobile phone.
[@杨引蒂 Reply @话的粉子: Edvard Munch, a Norwegian painter, lost his mother at the age of 5, and his relationship with his father was tepid.Most of his paintings are mixed with a sad and depressive mood. The reason why he painted these four children is because he thought of himself, and he integrated his childhood experience into the paintings. 】
Just like the "flame rose" he created before, it is a desperate and silent cry.
[@死的粉子: Wow wow wow!I am not wrong, right!Just replied to mine!Is it really Sang Yintian himself!Sang Sangzi! ! 】
[@Cannon fodder up up: Damn, it's really his own Weibo account, with official certification!Teacher Sangsang!Ahhh!Look at me look at me, I love your paintings so much! 】
[@小狼狼狗狗吃吃jelly: Mom, I reposted Sangsang’s new Weibo this morning, and I actually squatted here tonight!Oh my god...don't worry my family, I'll go buy a lottery ticket right away. 】
……
"Sang... Sang Sang?" Sang Yintian's whole face collapsed.It's just that he hasn't read the Weibo topic for a while, so why does he have a strange title.
Soon, the bullet screens in the live broadcast room were all filled with the three words Sang Yintian, so that the host who was appreciating the live broadcast couldn't help laughing and teasing a few words.
Probably, he also saw the reply left by Sang Yintian in the comment area.
"That's right, as Mr. Sang said just now, the content of Edvard Munch's paintings is to portray the inner world rather than the outer reality." The host stared at the camera with a smile on his face, as if he was looking at him.
Sang Yintian felt a little uncomfortable being stared at, and decisively swiped up and exited the live broadcast room.
"Ding-dong-"
The electronic doorbell on the gate rang, Sang Yintian looked lazy, got up from the sofa, kicked his slippers and slowly moved to the gate, bent over and lay on the cat's eye.
Standing outside his house were Xiaohan and a strange man.The man was wearing a black mask, and Sang Yintian couldn't see his face clearly.But he was not surprised.Because in their circle, there are many rich people who don't like to show their faces in order to get their favorite collections and are afraid of getting into other troubles.
It's not a big deal.
"Brother Yintian, are you home?" Xiaohan rang the doorbell, and at the same time fumbled for her cell phone from her pocket to call Sang Yintian, "It's strange... Is Brother Yintian asleep...Forget it, I still Give him a call—"
"Click-"
The door opened, and Sang Yintian leaned against the doorframe with a laziness on his face, and smiled at the two outside the door.This expression is true and false no matter how you look at it.
Xiaohan couldn't help coughing, and turned her head to glance at the man behind her. "Mr. Ye, this is the boss of our studio, Sang Yintian."
"Hello." Sure enough, the man did not intend to take off his mask.
"Come in." Sang Yintian glanced at the man standing beside Xiaohan, stood up straight and returned to the sofa. "The painting is there."
He pointed to the easel in the corner.The huge canvas is still hanging on the white drawing board, the wooden ladder in front has not been removed, and the messy paint is stained all over the floor.Sang Yintian's overalls were still lying on the ground next to him, but it seemed that he couldn't wear them anymore.
"Uh..." Xiaohan smiled awkwardly, "Well, Mr. Ye, I'm sorry, this painting was drawn by Brother Yintian who stayed up all night yesterday. I'm a little tight on time, maybe I haven't had time to sort it out—"
"It's okay." The man's voice was a little cold. He took two steps forward and stood in front of the picture. "It's a good painting."
The man surnamed Ye didn't look back.
"Not bad? Do you mean my painting technique, or the person in the painting?" Sang Yintian smiled and crossed his legs.He gently pinned his messy hair behind his ears, "Mr. Ye, you should not be in this circle."
Sang Yintian's intuition has never deviated.
"Yes, I am not."
"Then I have to ask you for a reason." Sang Yintian half-closed his eyes, half of his drowsiness was dispelled, "If this reason can't convince me, then the real owner of this painting will not be you .”
The man standing in front of the drawing board finally couldn't help sighing, turned around slowly, and took off the black mask.
"You...you are..."
Sang Yintian sat up from the sofa with a "bass", his eyes widened instantly, and he even felt a little unbelievable.His eyes kept wandering between the man in front of him and the drawing board behind him, and finally settled on the man's face again.
The man standing in front of him looks like he copied and pasted the boy in his painting.But after staring at it for a long time, it doesn't seem to be the same at all.
Sang Yintian was a little confused.
"Ye... Your surname is also Ye?" Sang Yintian realized that when Xiaohan introduced him just now, he called him "Mr. Ye".
"Hi, my name is Ye Wanlu, and it's Ye Siran's...brother." The man finally stretched out his hand, "The boy in "The Thorns" is my own brother."
No wonder Ye Wanlu successfully contacted his studio, found his assistant, and made an unreasonable request to buy the painting at a high price within two hours after "Thorns" was released.
In this way, everything makes sense.
"So that's how it is." Sang Yintian's tone didn't have any waves, not even the slightest surprise.
Ye Wanlu was a little surprised, but out of politeness, he smiled and withdrew his hand. "The price we negotiated before will not change in any way. The reason why I came to you is not only to buy this painting, but also to have another matter... I want your help." Ye Wanlu sat on the sofa, The right hand subconsciously loosened the black tie around his neck. "Of course, don't worry, that's another price."
Sang Yintian hates others asking for money in front of him.
"Mr. Ye, I think you may have made a mistake. I am a painter, and only a painter. I never make friends with you businessmen." Sang Yintian closed his eyes and smiled emotionlessly, " I mean, I don't like negotiating deals with anybody."
"Since the person in this painting is your younger brother, even if I want to go back on my word now, isn't it justified?" Sang Yintian turned to look at Xiaohan and winked at her, "About the specific bank account of our studio You can ask my assistant directly, I am very tired now and want to go to rest."
After speaking, Sang Yintian picked up the pillow that fell on the carpet, and stepped up the steps on one side to go to the bedroom on the first floor to rest.Helplessly, Ye Wanli suddenly stood in front of him.
"Teacher Sang, please...save Ye Siran."
Everything was quiet, the sun was just right at this time, the white pigeon resting on the roof jumped up and disappeared, and the bitter cold wind also squeezed in through the gaps in the glass windows, blowing the light-colored blinds to creak ring.Sang Yintian's right hand was stuck on the handrail of the stairs, and his little finger bent subconsciously.
It seems that a long, long time ago, Sang Yintian stood outside the operating room, trembling violently, and he said the same thing.
"Save them."
At that time, Sang Yintian was alone, with a gray smock covered with paint on the outside of the hoodie.The new and the old are mixed together in a mess.He was standing in the corridor of the hospital holding a paintbrush, his whole body was tightly wrapped by the smell of alcohol disinfectant, within a few seconds, Sang Yintian suddenly covered his mouth and rushed to the bathroom at the end of the corridor.
"Save them." Sang Yintian repeated these few words countless times in his dream.
"Brother Yintian? You, are you okay...Your complexion is not very good." Xiaohan ran over in a hurry, holding Sang Yintian's arm with one hand.
Sang Yintian felt a little nauseous.The stomach was overwhelmed, and the throat was more like being burned by a fire, hot and tormented.He lowered his head and gently shook off Xiaohan's arm. "I'm fine, maybe it's because I didn't eat much all day today. Xiaohan, please help me go out and buy some food now. Don't be too greasy, it should be lighter."
"Okay, I, I, I will go right away." Xiaohan seemed to be frightened by Sang Yintian's face now, she looked nervous, and looked back at Ye Wanlu. "Mr. Ye, please...help me take care of Brother Yintian first, I will be back soon."
After finishing speaking, Xiaohan rushed out of the door without looking back.
Ye Wanlu subconsciously took two steps forward, trying to help Sang Yintian onto the stool next to her.It's a pity that this person seems to be different from what he thought, and he is resisting anyone's touch from the bottom of his heart.
"Don't move." Sang Yintian lowered his head and glanced at Ye Wanlu. "If you have something to say, just stand there and say it. I can hear you."
"Teacher Sang, your situation is not very good." Ye Wanlu stopped where she was.
"That's not the point." All of Sang Yintian's thoughts were focused on Ye Wanlu's words just now, he suppressed the disgust, and looked back with a pale and sick face. "You just said... who do you want me to save?"
The author says:
Hot searches on Weibo today: [#河城城中心There was a traffic accident, a middle-aged couple was buried in a sea of fire#]
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