The Versatile Master Artist

Gu Weijing looked at the envelope in Bald’s hand, which bore the red stamp with the Central Bank abbreviation CBM, and sighed.

”Really generous.”

If not for his upbringing, Gu Weijing would probably have already rushed up to hug Brother Hao’s leg.

The amount of the check thrown out casually was almost the same as the first advance payment from a publishing giant like the Scholastic Group for ”Little Prince”.

These gang leaders truly are like devils in stories, whispering in your ear anytime, showcasing a beautiful illusion made up of immense wealth in gold and jewels.

Sometimes, this wealth isn’t just an illusion.

If your heart wavers just a bit and you heed the devil’s promise, then these things will indeed be yours, at the cost of exchanging your soul and freedom.

Faced with a check for 75 million Myanmar Kyat, how many people could eternally say no?

Bald tilted his head, hoping to see a hint of wavering from Gu Weijing’s expression.

If the other party accepted this seemingly ”effortless” bank check this time, Bald would have confidence that next time Gu Weijing would accept a sports car, and eventually start painting small-sized works for Brother Hao...

That’s how people are,

just like Pavlov training his dogs, once there’s a first time, there’s a second, slowly forming a dependency.

Bald hasn’t read much, doesn’t know that in philosophy this is referred to as a moral decline. But Bald is a street-smart thug, with his own ”street wisdom”.

Those who lost wives and sold organs to gamble all started with a few Kyat on the slot machines, those hidden gentlemen injecting rotting heroin into their veins all began with the first puff of low-purity marijuana.

There’s a gravity to degeneration,

that slowly pulls you deeper into the mire.

Even Uncle Ah Lai, who always seemed to wear a poker-faced mask, furrowed his brow slightly at this moment.

”Take the check away, just one apology gets you 75 million Myanmar Kyat, I don’t have that kind of face. Brother Hao’s goodwill is appreciated, but I can’t accept it.”

Gu Weijing chuckled to himself.

Influence between people is mutual, he brought changes to the Good Fortune Orphanage.

The selfless female director, the innocent children, Uncle Ah Lai who wants to be a good person...

These people have subtly influenced Gu Weijing too, making him believe that integrity brings greater inner satisfaction than money.

Gu Weijing shook his head, unwilling to break the face and embarrass the other party: ”If you’re really in a tough spot, just leave the fruit basket.”

Uncle Ah Lai breathed a sigh of relief.

Bald was a bit disappointed, but didn’t press further. He carried the fruit basket and milk, preparing to open the Elantra’s trunk.

”Please place it in the front row.” Uncle Ah Lai tapped on the car window.

He’s not used to interrupting during a conversation with guests,

so while Gu Weijing and Bald were talking, he remained silent, and Bald considered him just like an Uber driver.

Only now did Bald notice this quiet man.

He opened the Elantra’s passenger door, threw the fruit basket on the floor mat, and lifted a carton of milk, but suddenly stopped.

”Brother, you involved in street business? Tough guy, under which big brother?”

Bald asked, frowning, staring at the scar on the driver’s face.

What truly caught Bald’s attention wasn’t the scar. Many faces in the street have been torn and stitched; Bald never cared.

He felt there’s a certain aura surrounding this driver.

Not only has he truly drawn blood, but a lot of blood, to cultivate such a feeling.

People who roll out from the blood are different from normal people, like a monster hiding under human skin.

About twenty years ago, he once saw from afar in West River District, an old man smoking in a heavily guarded mansion, just a blurred distant glance.

But that Asura-like aura, Bald believed, he saw was the legendary Kunsha imprisoned in the mansion.

That feeling, once you see it, you never forget it.

Truly terrifying people don’t need like him to tattoo a Buddha head on their neck to exude authority and intimidate; if they wish, just sit there motionless, you’ll involuntarily feel reverence.

This feeling, Bald has seen in the Asura-like Kunsha, the always gentle Brother Hao, and subtly in this silent driver.