The Versatile Master Artist

”It made some people have inappropriate thoughts.”

Gu Weijing, who was watching the video, frowned slightly.

Provocation?

He wouldn’t deliberately bury his head in the sand like an ostrich unless someone happened to have crossed Tang Ning’s line during this time.

He was the one being slyly alluded to in the remarks.

”Maybe it can’t even be called a provocation.”

Gu Weijing smiled wryly.

Only when two people of similar stature exchange harsh words can it be called a provocation.

Not to mention Gu Weijing, who on the surface, has no achievements worth showing off.

Tang Ning just became the most valuable female artist in Asia, even his most noteworthy Detective Cat identity is nothing compared to her; she could take on ten of him with one hand.

With such a disparity, if she spat in his face, outsiders would think it was uplifting him.

Tang Ning was just expressing her dissatisfaction to the camera.

Even this dissatisfaction was more like a beloved child throwing a tantrum at their elders, asking, ”Do you not care for me anymore, Mr. Cao?”

Tang Ning’s discontent was directed at Elder Cao, and Gu Weijing was merely mentioned in passing.

”Sigh.”

Gu Weijing pursed his lips.

He understood how big of a pie Elder Cao’s last disciple position was, and also how much of a hot seat it was.

The largest, sweetest fruit on the flourishing apple tree was undoubtedly Tang Ning’s, but suddenly, out of nowhere, an outsider appeared wanting to snatch a bite.

From another perspective, it was only natural for Tang Ning to feel discontented.

”Elder Cao’s heir?”—Gu Weijing savored this title for several moments in his mind, his heart raced, then instantly he calmed himself.

Gu Weijing, a young painter, would be lying if he said he was never tempted by the possibility of becoming Elder Cao’s disciple upon discovering the chance.

Opportunities and talent are the two pillars supporting the height of an artistic journey.

To become ”Elder Cao’s heir/painting sect leader” is already a concept beyond simply describing it as an opportunity.

This is almost, in a certain sense, the artistic version of ”receiving a heavenly mandate.”

After all, she inherits the soul of an entire, long-standing artistic empire.

It’s not an exaggeration from Gu Weijing.

Larry Gagosian, Sir Brown—the wealthiest gallery owner and the most respected art critic in the world.

The New York Times long ago crowned them as the Art Tsar and Art Pope, respectively.

In events like symposiums and international academic conferences, Mr. Cao’s seating could even be placed before these two Tsars and Popes.

The Asian market has been a focal point for grand galleries’ strategies over the years, and Gagosian dreams of signing Elder Cao.

Tabloid rumors have it that after Hirst left in 2008, Gagosian had contact with Elder Cao, and the undisclosed amount in that intent contract was said to be ”enough to buy the Empire State Building.”

Regardless of on whom Mr. Cao Xuan, in public, places the crown in the end,

could that person really save thirty years of struggle?

Don’t joke.

Most of the tens of millions of art practitioners worldwide could never rival the advantages brought by this light title even if given time to sell from the Neolithic era to now.

Just imagining that scenario made Gu Weijing’s heart itch unbearably.

But he was also a sensible person.

Gu Weijing knew very clearly that until he grew to a certain extent, he should have no thoughts about this at all.

It’s too far-fetched.

Succeeding and inheriting an artistic empire is a matter of strength.

A Crown Prince with power ascending the throne is called an Emperor, without power, even if a pie hits him on the head, he remains a puppet.

His current self is in no position to compare with Lady Tang Ning.

Even if Old Sir Cao Xuan announced globally tomorrow that a man named Gu Weijing would take over for him.

It would still be a laughing stock worldwide.

Thinking about how to paint the Wisteria well to win an award at the Singapore Biennale is much more realistic than entertaining these empty imaginations.

Gu Weijing casually picked up the paper cup of train coffee on the table and gulped a few sips, the bitter coffee cooling the boiling blood in his chest.

He slowly calmed down.

The video on his phone continued to play.

This trailer was divided into three parts, selecting the three most intriguing clips from the interview with Tang Ning.

What Gu Weijing had just seen was the part titled [Tang Ning: The Next Asian Art Empress?]

Next was a five to six-minute segment where journalists asked the female artist if she had ambitions to conquer the Venice Art Exhibition, dubbed [Tang Ning: Tomorrow’s Stop].

Gu Weijing initially thought Professor Lin Tao only asked him to watch the first part of the interview.

Unexpectedly.

At the very end of the video, the female artist mentioned herself again. The third part of the video was titled [Tang Ning: Words for Young Artists]

”I think it’s time for you to speak from the perspective of an elder about the development issues of young artists.”

The journalist took the final interview card.

”Twenty years ago, when you first won the gold medal at the Shanghai Art Biennale with a piece called ’Hundred Flowers Painting’, critics compared you and a female Chicago painter, Louis Troy, as [The Double Art Maidens]. At that time, you both really were similar, at the age of twenty, both apprentices from prestigious schools.”