Bo Lin remembered.
Before Hua Jian went to F Country, he had bought a painting as a gift for him. That, too, had been by Yishuang.
What was so special about this deceased artist, Yishuang?
As for Hua Jian, he stared intently at Regret, surrounded by the crowd, and for a moment felt as though he had stepped into Yishuang's inner world.
Both Cool, which he had bought, and this painting, Regret, had allowed Hua Jian to brush against Yishuang's heart.
Yishuang must have been a tenderhearted person, full of boundless creative passion and a profound love for life.
But when creating these two paintings, he must have been going through a period of confusion and loneliness.
There had been hope, but far more despair.
Jia Nade's head buzzed as he listened to the clamor around him.
"Impossible!" he shrieked. "That painting was burned to ashes back in Y Country!"
The instant those words left his mouth, the way everyone looked at him changed.
Shit. What was he saying?
Jiang Ruiming sneered. "I did indeed happen to acquire this painting in Y Country. It's an authentic work by the Chinese painter Yishuang. You thought no one abroad knew who Yishuang was, so not only did you steal his ideas, you even hired a few thugs to burn it!"
"Is that really true?"
"But the two paintings really are identical."
"Tsk. Jia Nade won one award and got unbearably arrogant. Who would've thought he'd stolen the idea?"
"Look, every painting in this hall is a portrait. Only Happiness is a landscape. That really is strange."
"Plenty of paintings look alike. Isn't it a rather serious accusation to call Jia Nade a plagiarist and copyist based on just two paintings?"
A slightly effeminate male voice spoke calmly and evenly amid the