In just one week, Ye Zhaozhao managed to commission more than twenty paintings.

Little did she know that Neil had only brought eight paintings this time.

They had informed Minister Zhou about this matter beforehand, and Minister Zhou thought Ye Zhaozhao's suggestion was excellent.

Everyone from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs will be there on the day of the art exhibition.

Therefore, the money for the painting was also agreed upon by Minister Zhou to go through the finance department.

Everyone was incredibly busy with the art exhibition, while Neil acted all high and mighty.

Mil had grown tired of staying here for the past few days, so he wanted to go back home as soon as possible, and he told Neil.

"Dad, when are we going back to China?"

"We'll go home once these paintings of mine are sold at the art exhibition."

"Dad, how much are you planning to sell it for?"

"Eight thousand dollars a painting."

Neil was very confident in his painting, while Mill's mouth dropped open. Were the Chinese really that stupid? Besides, he didn't think his father's paintings were that good either.

"Dad, are you sure anyone will buy it at such a high price?"

Although Mil was arrogant, he had some knowledge of China, and Neil nodded.

He was confident, though he knew in his heart that he was getting older these past few years.

The prices of his paintings kept rising, but his mindset changed, and he admitted that his paintings were not as good as before.

He himself felt that some of his paintings were not good, but they were enough to fool the unsophisticated Chinese people.

Soon, the day of the art exhibition arrived. The theme of the exhibition was suggested by Ye Zhaozhao: Never Forget the Original Intention.

Wang Erni and the others had hung up the painting long ago.

Then they stand at the door to greet customers, because they have given advance notice.

So a lot of people came to the art exhibition. Neil was worried at first, but when he saw so many people, he was no longer worried.

Some people really like Neil's paintings, which depict an old man with white hair.

Neil was pleased to see that someone had noticed his painting so quickly, and he walked over.

"Sir, are you here to buy a painting?"

Neil's only purpose in coming here this time is to sell paintings, make a fortune, and then return home.

The old man looked Neil up and down, then turned his attention back to the painting.

The more he looked, the more his brows furrowed. Unfortunately, Neil was so focused on making money that he didn't notice anything amiss. The old man spoke again.

How much is this painting?

"Eight thousand US dollars."

Neil thought that the old man must want to buy it because he asked that question. The old man looked at Neil.

For some reason, Neil felt a chill run down his spine when he was being stared at like that.

At that moment, a stylishly dressed woman took a liking to a painting and thought it was very beautiful.

Neil wanted to buy it on the spot, thinking that if the old man didn't buy it, someone else would.

Sure enough, someone delivered it to her door right away, but when she turned around, she discovered that the painting the woman was looking at wasn't her own at all, but rather a painting by an unknown artist.

"How much does this painting cost?"

Ye Zhaozhao could tell from the woman's attire that she was knowledgeable about painting; this painting was the one painted by the first old man.

Ye Zhaozhao heard that it took him three years to paint this picture.

"Eight thousand US dollars."

"What?"

Neil couldn't believe that this painting dared to sell for the exact same price as his. This painting didn't look like it was worth eight thousand dollars at all; it was in US dollars.

"Yes, Mr. Neil, you heard right, this painting is eight thousand dollars."

Ye Zhaozhao did it on purpose. If she dared to look down on the Chinese, then she wouldn't be able to take any of the Chinese people's money.

Neil was no longer in a hurry; he figured the woman would never spend money on an unknown painting.

"I'll take this painting."

Ye Zhaozhao immediately had someone wrap her up, and Neil's eyes widened in surprise.

Is that all? Ye Zhaozhao specially invited the old man out.

To let everyone know who the artist was, the old man explained why he painted the picture.

He talked a lot about the concepts behind some of his paintings, which resonated with many of the painters present.

Yes, before a painter becomes famous, who knows how arduous the road he has traveled is?

Neil noticed that everyone liked other paintings, and he worried that his own paintings wouldn't sell.

"Don't be fooled by him, his paintings are not worth that much money at all."

As soon as Neil spoke, everyone looked at him and saw that he was a foreigner.

No one would believe him. Seeing that no one believed him, Neil became a little anxious and wanted to say something more.

The old man who had been standing in front of his image spoke up.

“His paintings are worth so much money, while yours are worth less than half of his, yet you dare to sell them for eight thousand US dollars.”

Neil couldn't take it anymore. Fine, the old man wouldn't buy his paintings.

How dare he say that if his paintings aren't worth as much as anyone else's?

"Who do you think you are, daring to criticize my painting?"

Neil was originally seen as a gentle and refined person.

But at this moment he could no longer pretend. He suspected that the Chinese were ganging up on him.

“I’m telling the truth. Your drawing skills are poor, and you don’t realize your own problems. You’re ruining your future.”

The old man couldn't deny that Neil might have some basic skills.

However, he was arrogant and valued fame and fortune too much, and wanted to make money from his paintings.

"My inspiration has dried up. If this continues, it will be difficult for me to paint in the future," the old man said directly to Neil.

"Can't you draw it now?"

"you……"

Neil absolutely cannot admit that he can't draw it in front of so many people.

What should he do if he finds he can no longer draw?

He's a famous painter, and he likes that reputation; the old man could tell at a glance.

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