It is said that paintings are worthless while the painter is alive.
Once the painter dies, the price will increase exponentially.
He had no one who understood him when he was alive, and when he died, everyone felt sorry for him.
That's true.
After Lu Xinian disappeared, his paintings were widely praised by the society, and everyone was surprised to find that this child was so talented.
Whether it is the lines, artistic conception, or emotion, it is unique.
His paintings began to grow wildly.
One hundred thousand per painting.
Five hundred thousand per painting.
Ten million per painting.
The prices are high.
But for some reason, no matter how much others offered, as long as it was Lu Xinian's painting, no one could successfully take it away, and it would always be bought by a mysterious person.
This seems to have become a cycle, and the more this happens, the higher the price of Lu Xinian's paintings becomes.
…
1990.
Gu Qingcheng has become the richest man in the country and is also among the top three on the global wealth list.
She held a public exhibition of her paintings, and all the leading figures in the country came to attend.
The scene was quite lively.
It was only when everyone got here that they discovered that all the paintings here were painted by the young painter who became famous at a young age but was envied by others.
That’s right, they are all Lu Xinian’s paintings.
Everyone was amazed. From the first painting to the last, their hearts were already filled with shock.
"Oh my god, all these paintings were bought by Mr. Gu."
"No wonder we couldn't buy it no matter how much money we spent. How can we compare with Mr. Gu in financial resources?"
While everyone was talking, Gu Qingcheng walked in slowly with a smile on his face.
Along the way, many people greeted her, but Gu Qingcheng just nodded slightly.
She doesn't need to please these people.
Walking to the main seat, Gu Qingcheng took the microphone and began to speak: "I believe everyone must be very curious about why I collected so many paintings by painter Lu Xi Nian."
"The reason is simple, he is my son."
When these words were spoken, everyone in the room was shocked.
This was the first time Gu Qingcheng announced this news publicly.
"More than 10 years ago, my son disappeared while on a national mission. Over the years, I have never given up looking for him, but to no avail."
As he spoke, Gu Qingcheng glanced at the assistant.
The assistant understood immediately and sent Lu Xinian's photo to everyone.
"This is a photo of my son before he disappeared. Today, I announce to everyone that if anyone can provide information about my son's whereabouts, I will give that person 30% of the shares of Gu Group. I mean what I say."
When these words were spoken, everyone was dumbfounded again.
Did they hear it right?
How many?
30% of Gu’s shares?
This price is simply hard to measure with money! This is a priceless treasure!
Isn’t Mr. Gu too generous?
After saying this, Gu Qingcheng bowed deeply to everyone.
"In addition, starting today, the Gu Group will create the Lu Xinian Art Museum, which will exhibit all of Lu Xinian's paintings. Admission is free, and no tickets are required."
"If there are more Nian Nian paintings in the future, please let me know as well."
Everyone stood there stupidly, thinking that Mr. Gu simply had too much money.
They cannot understand the world of the rich.
Gu Qingcheng expressed his gratitude to everyone again.
"Please understand the feelings of a mother who lost her child."
“Please lend a helping hand too!”
As she spoke, she bowed once more, the bustling discussions of the crowd ringing in her ears.
Everyone promised her that they would use all their connections to find Lu Xinian.
There is only hope that they will never give up this stake.
Gu Qingcheng took a breath and slowly stood up.
She didn't know why, but the moment she stood up this time, she seemed to hear a familiar voice in her ears.
The voice was calling her—
"mom."
She heard it clearly.
——
I will spend the rest of my life stepping over every mountain and river.
I will also make the most pious wishes on the bluestone steps as the night passes by, looking at the passing stars.
When the south wind blows.
The dusk permeates all the ferry crossings where you stop, and my footprints weave the longitude and latitude of our reunion, until a dawn when the morning dew has not yet risen.
I saw the dawn rising, revealing the first light of the morning.
By then, I had seen all the free mountains and rivers, and finally I was able to meet you again.
(My dears, it’s finished! But it’s not completely finished, only the main text is finished. There are still several extra chapters to be written. Let me take a few days’ rest first. See you in a few days!!! Don’t forget me!)
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