Old Mrs. Qin smiled knowingly, "Alright, if you find something you particularly like, just let Grandma know, and we’ll buy it to take home."
"Mm-hmm!" Qin Sui’an nodded her little head again. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞
After they finished exploring the first gallery, they moved on to the second.
As they leisurely made their way through one gallery after another, a man in a Zhongshan suit entered the exhibition. His jacket was meticulously buttoned to the top, his posture upright and dignified. The security guards at the entrance seemed to recognize him, nodding respectfully. Before they could speak, he raised his hand, signaling them to remain silent.
He cast a glance back toward the parking lot. Rumor had it that a VIP was attending today—a distinguished guest arriving in a luxury car, accompanied by bodyguards. This was only the second day of the exhibition. Although there had been a few high-profile art buyers yesterday, he understood they were more interested in displaying a cultured façade than in the art itself.
Redirecting his attention from the parking lot, he continued inside. Just then, he caught sight of a small child emerging from the second gallery and heading toward the third. Her tiny steps made her dress sway with each movement, a sight that involuntarily drew his gaze.
Before he could get a good look at her face, the little one had already entered the third gallery, accompanied by an elderly lady with silver hair and a woman dressed in formal attire who appeared to be an assistant or secretary. Four bodyguards in black suits followed close behind as they, too, stepped into the third gallery.
His intention to head toward the first gallery came to a halt. A glimmer of understanding crossed his face.
So, the luxury car outside and the bodyguards escorting the "VIP" today were all for this little child. He couldn’t help but wonder which prominent family she belonged to, bringing someone so young to an art exhibition. Could a little one like that even grasp the meaning behind the paintings?
He chuckled to himself, amused by the notion. The wealthier people were, the more inclined they seemed to instill in their children these lofty, impractical interests, as though it somehow embellished their lives.
Perhaps it was curiosity about whether the child could understand the paintings, or simply a desire to observe, or perhaps he hadn’t yet seen her face. Whatever the reason, he abandoned his plan to visit the first gallery and turned his steps toward the third.
Meanwhile, Qin Sui’an was meticulously admiring each painting. Old Mrs. Qin watched her granddaughter’s expressions, ready to ask whenever she saw a look of awe, "Ann, should we buy this painting?"
Each time, Qin Sui’an shook her head, "No~"
Old Mrs. Qin chuckled, following her granddaughter’s lead, "Alright, we won’t buy it then."
It seemed her granddaughter had her own mind, as if weighing each painting on a personal scale of worthiness. Old Mrs. Qin grew increasingly curious, wondering if, by the end of their tour, one particular painting would capture the little one’s heart—or if none would.
If none did, she’d likely suggest to her son, Qin Haochen, that they find a painter to be her granddaughter’s mentor.
After finishing their visit to the third gallery, they moved on to the fourth.
Not long after they entered, Lucy suddenly stepped forward and quietly informed Old Mrs. Qin, "Madam, a man has been following us for about twenty minutes."
At first, Lucy hadn’t been certain; after all, there were only a few galleries. But once they exited the third gallery and entered the fourth, it became clear that the man was indeed trailing them.
A surge of unease swept through Old Mrs. Qin, though she kept her expression calm. She’d been so absorbed in enjoying the exhibition with her granddaughter that she hadn’t noticed someone shadowing them for the past twenty minutes.
Silently, she chided herself for her lapse in vigilance.
Lucy continued, "Madam, that man looks like Mr. Zhu Xiulin."
Although Lucy had never met Zhu Xiulin in person, she had researched him once she knew the madam and Miss Ann were coming to his exhibition. It was said that Zhu Xiulin had a particular fondness for Zhongshan suits.
Old Mrs. Qin felt a mix of relief and confusion. What was Zhu Xiulin doing following them? Did he recognize her precious granddaughter as the person he was looking for? It seemed unlikely, given how well the Ye family had kept her granddaughter’s information under wraps.
Old Mrs. Qin discreetly scanned the area and immediately noticed a man in a Zhongshan suit not far from them. She slightly tilted her head and whispered to Lucy, "Is it the man in the Zhongshan suit?"
"Yes, madam," Lucy nodded.
"Alright, I understand," Old Mrs. Qin said, maintaining her composure, "Proceed as usual."
Lucy nodded, "Yes, madam."
Old Mrs. Qin no longer paid any mind to the man who seemed to be Master Chu Xiulin; whether it was him or not mattered little to them. They had come merely to enjoy the exhibition.
Unfazed by the subtle changes around her, Qin Sui’an remained wholly engrossed in each painting on the walls. She studied them as if reading stories, a sense of novelty and wonder filling her gaze. To her, each painting was a new tale, fresh and untouched.
They soon finished the fourth gallery and moved on to the fifth. Here, the prices had dropped to the range of one hundred to two hundred thousand. Many attendees, likely drawn by the prestige of Chu Xiulin’s name, had purchased works from the earlier, higher-priced galleries, leaving a substantial number of pieces unsold in this fifth gallery.
By the time they reached the last gallery, where prices were below one hundred thousand, only one piece had been sold, priced at ninety-nine thousand.
Old Mrs. Qin trailed behind her granddaughter into the sixth gallery, casting a glance over the paintings on display. Whether due to the softer lighting or perhaps the lower price tags subtly affecting her perception, she couldn’t help but find the artworks here more ordinary, lacking the bold visual impact of the previous galleries.
She could already guess that her granddaughter wouldn’t choose a single painting from this collection. Quietly, she began to consider speaking to her son once they returned home; it was clear they needed to find a painter worthy of becoming her granddaughter’s mentor. After all, how could any artist who failed to inspire the desire to bring even one painting home possibly guide her little one in the art of painting?
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