novelraw Chapter 0166, "Redemption"
Chapter 0166, "Redemption"
Beijing.
Next to the National Centre for the Performing Arts, the largest private art museum.
Wen Ning's solo art exhibition, "Rebirth," officially opened here.
Tickets are extremely hard to come by.
A long line of cameras and microphones formed outside the door.
Since winning the gold medal at the Paris Biennale, Wen Ning's name has become a hot topic in the art world.
She is no longer anyone's appendage.
She was a true genius painter.
The exhibition hall was bustling with people.
Business luminaries, art critics, and top collectors were all present.
Everyone paused before those powerful paintings, murmuring their admiration.
But all eyes will eventually converge on one place.
……
The very center of the exhibition hall.
On a huge blank wall, only a large oil painting hangs.
There are no guardrails.
But everyone instinctively stopped in front of it, maintaining a respectful distance.
The painting is called "Redemption".
On the canvas are vast expanses of gray, desolate ruins.
Ruins and ruins, a scene of devastation.
But in the center of those ruins, a symbol of death and despair.
There was a man standing there.
He was wearing a well-tailored dark suit.
Keep your back straight.
He held a long-handled black umbrella in his hand.
A light drizzle was falling on the umbrella.
The figure in the painting does not have its full facial features depicted.
The umbrella ribs were pulled low, and most of his face was hidden in the shadows.
But it was only the sharp jawline that was visible, and the extremely deep and determined gaze in the shadows.
That alone is enough to make people feel the amazing power of breaking out of the cocoon and becoming a butterfly.
firm.
gentle.
It was as if he wasn't holding up an umbrella.
Rather, it is a pure land that can withstand the collapse of the entire world.
Others may not know who the painting depicts.
But those who know him well will recognize him at a glance.
That's Jiang Ci.
He was the man who, on a rainy night, held the umbrella she handed him and said he would "bring back the spirited Jiang Ci."
……
This painting is incredibly visually striking.
Several renowned art collectors stood before the painting, their eyes gleaming, whispering amongst themselves.
"The emotional tension in this painting is simply incredible."
"What's the bottom line? I'll offer eight million."
"Eight million? I'll bid fifteen million! This is absolutely Wen Ning's masterpiece!"
The sounds of bidding echoed throughout the center of the exhibition hall.
The numbers are getting increasingly outrageous.
Wen Ning, dressed in a simple white suit, stood not far away.
Holding a glass of champagne.
Quietly watching this side.
Sudden.
The crowd quieted down.
It automatically separates to both sides.
Jiang Ci walked over.
He was dressed in a completely black suit today, with a dark red handkerchief folded in his breast pocket.
His steps were steady.
He walked straight up to the huge painting, "Redemption".
Stop walking.
The surrounding collectors recognized this living Yama of City A and all fell silent.
Jiang Ci ignored everyone.
He looked up.
Look at the man holding an umbrella in the painting.
Looking at those ruins and shadows.
Her eyes gradually reddened.
Only he himself knows what the painting depicts.
It is the self that she herself pushed into hell with her own hands, and then pulled back to the human world with her own hands.
It was Jiang Ci, who had finally survived the long winter and stood before her again.
"General Manager Jiang..."
One collector, mustering his courage, tentatively asked, "You've also taken a liking to this painting?"
Jiang Ci remained silent.
He turned his head and glanced at the staff at the booth next to him.
then.
He pulled a black card that he had prepared beforehand from his pocket.
I handed it over directly.
"Swipe your card."
His voice was hoarse, yet resounding.
"I'll pay any price. I'll take this painting."
The staff member was stunned, sweating profusely.
"Mr. Jiang, this painting... Teacher Wen hasn't set a starting bid yet, it's not in the system..."
Jiang Ci did not take back the card.
He walked right past the staff and picked up a stack of red labels from the table.
Tear off a sheet.
Walk to the nameplate in the lower right corner of the picture frame.
With a "snap".
He personally pasted the red sticker on.
It has three words printed on it: 【Not for Sale】.
An uproar erupted around them.
What kind of buyer would put up a "not for sale" sign themselves?
This is blatant robbery.
But due to Jiang Ci's status and aura, no one dared to protest.
The sound of high heels came from behind.
Not in a hurry, not slowly.
Wen Ning, holding a wine glass, walked through the crowd and stood beside Jiang Ci.
She looked at the red sticker on the picture frame.
She glanced again at Jiang Ci's slightly reddened eyes.
Laughed.
"General Manager Jiang."
She spoke, her voice clear and crisp, echoing throughout the entire exhibition hall.
"This painting cannot be paid for by card."
Jiang Ci turned to look at her, his breath catching in his throat.
His eyes were churning with indescribable emotions.
Wen Ning handed the wine glass in her hand to the waiter next to her.
She stepped forward.
He reached out and gently grasped Jiang Ci's hand, which was still resting on the edge of the picture frame.
"Because it was never for sale."
Wen Ning turned around.
Facing all the media, cameras, and collectors.
His eyes were bright and open.
"This painting is the soul of my exhibition."
"It's not for sale to anyone, no matter how high the price."
She turned around.
She tilted her head back and stared intently at Jiang Ci.
His eyes were filled with undisguised love and pride.
"Because it was given to my muse."
Muse.
A source of inspiration.
The redemption of the soul.
The flashbulbs went off like crazy throughout the venue.
The sound of camera shutters clicking was continuous.
Everyone witnessed this moment of ultimate romance.
Jiang Ci's heart felt as if it had been struck hard by something.
Sour and astringent.
Full.
It almost jumped out of my chest.
He used his backhand.
He grabbed Wen Ning's fingers.
Their fingers are intertwined.
The force was immense, as if it wanted to knead her into his very bones.
He lowered his head.
He ignored all the cameras and stares around him.
He leaned close to her ear.
The voice was extremely low and hoarse.
Yet it carries a deep affection that disregards life and death.
"I am your muse."
He turned his head and kissed her temple with his burning lips.
"You are my life."