Qin Jing'an stayed at the Art Academy for three days.
He spent three whole days in the gallery, not just looking at the paintings but also looking at the people.
In the end, he also verified his capital and got a small round sticker.
It's just the most inconspicuous white.
He was attached to a painting in the corner.
The lower right corners of the other paintings were densely covered with stickers, but this one was empty.
Qin Jing'an felt a little pain in his body.
A round sticker means that he is willing to spend one hundred gold coins to buy this painting.
Since no one else took the photo, he must have taken the photo.
"Have you finished pasting it, sir?"
A student with a work badge came over to ask questions.
The other students took their notebooks and began to record one by one, while taking back the paintings.
The exhibition is coming to an end.
Qin Jing'an nodded.
"etc!"
He was about to leave when he saw a woman jogging into the gallery. She apologized and quickly stuck the small round pieces of paper in her hand on the paintings.
She pasted the stickers very quickly, as if she didn't care what the pictures looked like, she just wanted to put the stickers on.
Qin Jing'an was curious and took a few more glances.
All white.
Although the woman was very fast, Qin Jing'an also observed her pattern.
Without exception, they were all posted on paintings that no one bid for.
Qin Jing'an couldn't help but take out his camera and took a few pictures.
However, his behavior was quickly stopped by the students.
"Excuse me sir, you are not allowed to take photos of these paintings."
After all, these are graduation works, and many of them have been auctioned off, so it is understandable that photography is not allowed.
Qin Jing'an smiled apologetically and left quickly with the camera.
As soon as he left school, he found a photo shop to have the photos developed.
Holding a few scribbled photos, Qin Jing'an found a nearby fast food restaurant.
"Special sandwich combo, thank you."
The clerk quickly handed it to him. He took it without looking up, leaned against the street and started to eat it.
Qin Jing'an was looking at the paintings.
He really couldn't see the value of these paintings.
In terms of characteristics, it is not as distinctive as the one sold at a high price.
In terms of genre, it is not as pleasing as those with countless labels.
Qin Jing'an took the photo for other purposes.
"Are you planning something else?"
He muttered to himself.
If there is no special reason, that woman must be the same as him!
Qin Jing'an also analyzed the reasons why those paintings were not popular through several photos.
Most of them are the same and have no personal characteristics.
At a glance, they seem to have been carved from the same mold.
Art is a spiritual enjoyment, and there is nothing deeper to be seen in these works.
But there is also an advantage, which is that it is easy to imitate and can be drawn in large quantities.
The authors of these paintings must also be good at imitating others.
Qin Jing'an swallowed the last bite of his sandwich and handed the Coke to the homeless man under the street light.
He can't get used to carbonated drinks.
"Thank you, God bless you."
The homeless man nodded continuously.
But he didn't seem hungry, he just put the Coke aside.
Compared with other homeless people in this block, this one seems to have a better life, and even has a plump face. I guess he often gets food from people.
Is it because it’s in front of a fast food restaurant?
Qin Jing'an looked up and saw that at the corner to his right was the organization that Qin Zhiheng wanted to investigate.
The nearest fast food restaurant around the institution was the sandwich shop he had just visited.
It was dinner time, and Qin Jing'an started chatting with the old homeless man by giving him Coke. Soon, he caught a glimpse of an oriental face out of the corner of his eye.
The boy was wearing a baseball cap, was very thin, and walked in a hurry.
He went straight into the sandwich shop. The clerk seemed familiar with him and gestured to the back.
"so much!"
Qin Jing'an saw the paper bag handed out from the kitchen, which could hold fifty sandwiches.
The boy paid in cash and threw a sandwich to the homeless man on his way out.
"Thank you, God bless you."
But he soon discovered Qin Jing'an next to the homeless man.
Perhaps it was because Qin Jingan was dressed neatly and cleanly that made the boy feel a little confused.
He paused for a second, hesitantly reaching into the paper bag.
For some reason, the boy suddenly trembled all over, quickly took out another sandwich, threw it to Qin Jingan, and ran away.
Qin Jingan laughed.
So they treated him as a beggar.
He dropped the sandwich in his hand, the cheapest kind in the store.
"Brother, it's all for you."
Qin Jing'an lowered his head and handed it to the homeless man, but saw him eating it with the Coke he had just drunk.
It seems that the boy often gives him alms.
"What's this?"
Qin Jing'an was sharp-eyed and found a very familiar note under the homeless man.
He reached out to pick it up, and the homeless man mumbled, "It fell out of the sandwich wrapper. I can't read it. Maybe it's the expiration date?"
Do fast food restaurants still write expiration dates?
He opened it casually.
"Help!"
Qin Jing'an immediately clenched the paper ball in his palm.
He smiled and said, "Indeed, today's sandwiches are very fresh. They were all made this morning."
"Oh, God bless you, I haven't been hungry since I came here!"
Looking at the homeless man muttering to himself, Qin Jing'an finally stopped lingering and returned to his residence with today's gains.
Qin Jingning had just finished practicing, his cheeks were red and sweat was on his forehead.
Qin Jing'an checked the door lock of his residence again and again, and finally took out the note.
Ningning came forward to watch together.
"Help?" She looked at her brother. "Where are you from? Are you from Country Z?"
"I'm not sure, let's see if there's any more information."
Qin Jingning was slightly stunned.
It’s just a piece of paper with two words on it. What kind of information could it contain?
Qin Jing'an didn't intend to answer, but instead concentrated on turning on the desk lamp.
He first felt the material of the paper.
It's not ordinary paper, nor is it toilet paper.
It's hard, a bit thick, and has some texture on the surface.
The word "help" was written crookedly, as if it was written in an extremely nervous state.
Qin Jing'an gently stroked the font with his fingertips, then raised his hand, revealing a layer of black-gray powder on his fingertips.
"Lead."
"Then it seems that this paper should be used for painting."
"That boy should be from the institution."
But Qin Jing'an keenly realized that the task his father gave him might be unusual.
He turned his head to look at Qin Jingning, whose face was full of curiosity, and suddenly regretted bringing his sister here for the sake of cheapness.
It’s better to just hire a security guard.
At worst, I can just act coquettishly with my mother and ask for more money.
Before coming to the United States, Qin Jing'an used several connections to inquire about this art institution called "Yijing".
On the surface, it is a studio of a group of young artists, producing some paintings for competition or auction.
At the same time, it also deals in the sale of painting materials and provides painting training for teenagers.
The entire organization will not exceed ten people.
But the food that boy bought was definitely enough for no less than thirty people.
What does an organization need so many people for private purposes?
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