The Versatile Master Artist

Even if there was this shortcut to heaven.

Old Wu, Gu Tongxiang, would never dream that this one exclusive chance would land on them, such a completely unrealistic fantasy.

Their highest hope in life is just to have their names on the list of the National Painting Association before entering the grave.

So they could comfort their ancestors.

Alas, the National Painting Association is beyond the reach of Old Wu’s abilities.

To join, one must have some impeccable skill.

If you can’t sell a painting for 20 million US Dollars, at least you should be able to sell a single piece for 20 million Myanmar Kyats, or achieve something similar, to pass the screening threshold.

The last artist from the Yangon Calligraphy and Painting Association to join the National Painting Association and become a national treasure-level artist of Myanmar was four years ago.

Every year, Old Wu adds his name to the list of applicants and then gets routinely brushed off.

He tried connections, asked people, bribed, and found backdoor ways.

The old man tried every method he could think of.

It’s doubtful if he can continue serving as a permanent director of the local Painting Association next term.

Time after time, hope led only to disappointment.

The big apple hanging on the tree was right in front of him, Old Wu almost had a limp from jumping, always just a few centimeters short.

Old Wu was greatly vexed and quite distressed.

Gu Weijing paid no mind to the agitated Old Wu. He carried a backpack, with one hand holding a folder of materials and the other hand holding Ah Wang, meowing in his arms, ready to take the bus to the orphanage to play with the kids.

As he reached his doorstep, he encountered the courier delivering parcels to each household.

The courier in a red and yellow ”DHL Express, Faster” corporate shirt pedaled his tricycle along the tree-lined Yangon Riverfront road, the chain making a squeaky sound like a mouse gnawing.

”To Gu’s Calligraphy and Painting Gallery, 36 North Yangon River Road, Evergreen District, Yangon City. Mr. Gu Weijing, please come out to receive your package.”

The delivery guy glanced at the address plate and threw the parcel with a clank onto the steps in front of the calligraphy and painting shop, then continued pedaling to the next household.

Gu Weijing was used to the local courier service attitude and was too exhausted to complain, first tearing Ah Wang from his embrace.

Then he bent down to pick up the package in front of him, shaking off the dust.

He untied the black packaging, revealing the cover of a storybook inside.

”Is this the new edition of ’Little Prince’ by Mr. Tree Sloth?”

Mr. Tree Sloth already communicated with him; he received the sample book of ’Little Prince’ from the publisher, which would be sent to him via Meiquan Palace Office in the coming days.

It probably was this.

Gu Weijing was satisfied looking at this fairy tale book with surprisingly good printing quality.

Despite the ups and downs during the illustration process, seeing the final product before him still brought a great sense of achievement and fulfillment.

This was a monumental moment in Gu Weijing’s life—he formally completed a prestigious commissioned project.

From then on, at least among the group of illustrators, he was no longer just a web illustrator, but someone with significant projects as part of his work experience.

This is akin to a social media influencer making a professional transition to a legitimate TV star.

His social status received a qualitative upgrade.

The Detective Cat who painted ”Mr. Hibernian” was just a social media artist, while the Detective Cat who successfully completed Scholastic Group’s ”Little Prince Project” in the employer’s eyes was an artist with a credibility rating over 90% among illustrators.

This hidden golden upgrade might be more beneficial than the monetary gains from the Little Prince project itself.

Having gone from 0 to 1 made it much easier for him to proceed from 1 to 2.

”Thanks to Mr. Tree Sloth, the first task brought such a powerful project to me.”

Gu Weijing thought as he flipped open Little Prince.

He saw the inscription from Mr. Tree Sloth on the title page, the handwriting was beautiful.

This was the first time Gu Weijing saw the mysterious Mr. Tree Sloth’s handwriting, and it brightened his eyes.

It’s actually quite rare for foreigners to write beautifully.

Leaving the computer keyboard behind at Yale and Oxford, the handwriting of honor students on paper is often as messy as dog scratches.

Not surprising.

Art and painting are things all human civilizations invent; there were murals even in the Neolithic period.

Whereas the brush calligraphy system based on phonetic Chinese characters is an artistic invention and aesthetic trend uniquely created by the Dongxia people, based on principles of conveying meaning and carrying the essence through writing.

It’s the only one of its kind worldwide, with no counterparts.

Even Ancient Egyptians, whose script had many hieroglyphic elements, didn’t have calligraphy.

If one insists on counting, the Latin language system does have business copperplate, imperial capital, Gothic secular/script styles among others, often referred to as cursive and round styles, but compared to the elevated calligraphy levels in the Dongxia cultural circle, they appear extremely primitive.

Regarding the depth of calligraphy theory systems and aesthetic achievements, the gap between English calligraphy and the continually refined Chinese calligraphy system under the imperial examination system is akin to the difference between the airplane invented by the Wright Brothers and the F22 stealth fighter jet.

Yet, such beautiful handwriting is very recognizable. Abroad, only a small upper class, with money and time, cultivates their children’s quality in handwriting.

This completely fits Gu Weijing’s mental image of Mr. Tree Sloth as a ”graceful, polite, upper-class middle-aged gentleman.”