Why are a painter's works so valuable? There's a process to human cognition. For world-famous paintings, by the time people begin to appreciate their artistic elements, the painter is long gone.
Back then, some people, for their own benefit, started creating a sense of scarcity. Once people perceived the item as truly precious and unlikely to reappear, its value began to skyrocket.
...
Yang Zhenzhen was just a university student, a genius. Many of her paintings possessed an ineffable artistic sensibility. However, the mere fact that she was still alive lowered the value of all her artworks. I priced her paintings at one hundred thousand, two hundred thousand, three hundred thousand. Some might think, "Wow, they're so well-painted." But no one would ever pay to buy such paintings.
On the first day, I hired people to hand out flyers. Many people showed up, including some art students. The venue was lively, but the sales were zero. Fearing I might hurt Yang Zhenzhen's pride, I secretly observed her. It turned out I was wrong; she didn't care at all whether these paintings sold. She was already content with so many people discussing and critiquing her work. For the entire day, Yang Zhenzhen's face was flushed red like a little apple.
If she weren't so overweight, I might have been attracted by her adorable demeanor.
Yang Zhenzhen didn't care, but I couldn't let things continue this way. I rented a place nearby and hired someone to purchase her recently finished pencil sketch, "Pine Forest Wind and Waves," for 158,000 yuan. This sketch, rendered to mimic the effect of traditional Chinese ink painting, didn't appear particularly outstanding at first glance. Even drawn upside down, one could only be slightly amazed by the brushstrokes.
However, this painting held a different significance for me. I had personally witnessed Yang Zhenzhen sitting cross-legged before her easel like a Maitreya Buddha, then opening her eyes, much like Stephen Chow painting a "Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix." This painting was, for me, an enlightenment in the realm of art, allowing me to understand what true artistic elements represented.
So much money exchanged hands! Most importantly, Yang Zhenzhen felt her artistic value had been recognized. She happily grabbed me and spun me around. Her weight was no joke; I couldn't stop myself even if I wanted to, and the spinning left me dizzy.
I invited reporters from the news agency to cover this event, hoping to attract more artists. On the third day, a haggard old scholar, his temples as white as snow, stood before a portrait of a long-tongued ghost created on a canvas made of curtains, with leftover food as paint. He stared at the painting for a long time. I nudged Yang Zhenzhen to go and ask him. Shyly, Yang Zhenzhen approached the old man and started chatting.
Later, through casual conversation with Yang Zhenzhen, I learned that this old man held some status. His surname was Wang, and he was the de facto vice chairman of the Artists Association, with several oil paintings already sold abroad.
"Didn't he mention buying this painting?"
"Five million for this painting? I might accidentally get some detergent on it at home, and it would just be a clean curtain. Tang Nan, art is priceless, but we can't swindle people, right?"
Yang Zhenzhen's words made me laugh. She was right; that five-million-yuan "masterpiece" was afraid of detergent.
"By the way, Yang Zhenzhen, do you know 'Woman 3'?"
"Willem de Kooning's Woman series."
"That's likely it. What materials did he use to paint it?"
"Oil paints!"
"And does this old painter, Mr. Wang, understand oil painting?"
"He certainly does!"
Where else could I have found him? If things continue like this, by the time Old Ghost arrives, I might have already captured Long-Tongued Ghost.
Old Ghost said he would arrive in seven days, and today is the fourth day. How wonderful it would be if I could capture Long-Tongued Ghost before Old Ghost arrives. Yes, Long-Tongued Ghost is a formidable opponent, but his "schemes" cannot account for all karma. If my meeting with Yang Zhenzhen was also part of her scheme, then who in this world could possibly contend with him?
Schemers are intelligent, but they shouldn't be deified. Moreover, Long-Tongued Ghost is a mortal being. As long as his whereabouts are found, forget the police, I can take him down alone.
I easily found information about the old painter named Wang at the Artists Association. Wang Tan. His biography was unremarkable. He spent most of his life as a middle school art teacher. He retired last year, and after retirement, a few of his oil paintings were recognized by wealthy collectors abroad, which somewhat improved his financial situation. Wealth and prestige came later in life, but it was still fair to the lonely painter with snow-white temples, as he had felt the value of his lifelong dedication during his living years. This month, just last month, he became an honorary vice chairman of the Artists Association.
Following the address provided by the Artists Association, I visited his home. He seemed surprised to see a stranger. Only when I mentioned Yang Zhenzhen did he solemnly invite me into his personal studio.
Upon entering, I saw an oil painting of Long-Tongued Ghost on the easel, similar to Yang Zhenzhen's. Seeing my dazed expression, Wang Tan patted my shoulder and handed me a low stool used for painting, gesturing for me to sit.
"Do you recognize this person?" Wang Tan asked, pointing to the painting.
"I do."
"The young lady said this person is a student from your school named Jiang He."
"Yes, he is."
"And this person?"
Wang Tan found a drawing from a stack of sketches nearby. It depicted a person wearing a crisp shirt and well-pressed trousers. However, his appearance was not human-like at all; he had wrinkles around his eyes and was balding.
Seeing this painting, I wanted to say I didn't recognize him, yet he bore a resemblance to Jiang He.
"Who is he?"
Wang Tan didn't answer. Instead, he placed the drawing on the easel, mixed some paints on his palette, and said, "If the nose were raised a little, a line drawn for the lips, the skin treated delicately, and a wig added..." Wang Tan painted as he spoke. Soon, this unknown person transformed into Jiang He's likeness.
It was incredible; I was mesmerized and suddenly felt a yearning to learn painting.
"This is the Jiang He you know, isn't it?"
"Yes, but this is your painting, isn't it?"
"These two are the same person."
"Do you have proof?"
Wang Tan nodded and pointed to the hand in his oil painting, then to the aged hand in Yang Zhenzhen's painting. The veins and the texture of the blood vessels were identical. I was astonished. A true painter is indeed extraordinary. Ordinary people identify others by their faces, but a painter can determine that two individuals with completely different appearances are the same person just by looking at their hands.
"Who exactly is Jiang He?"
"He's a wanted criminal."
Wang Tan's expression changed upon hearing my words. "I've seen this person somewhere, from a colleague. Once I confirm where he is, I'll call or text you, and you can have the police arrest him."
I knew deep down that Wang Tan was lying. He had not just merely seen Long-Tongued Ghost; his oil painting looked like it had been done over several days. Luo Bo had once said that forged paintings weren't made by a single person. Long-Tongued Ghost, disguised as Jiang He, must have accomplices in Hushi. Given Wang Tan's mastery of oil painting and the drastic changes in his life over the past two years, Wang Tan was likely an accomplice in Jiang He's forgeries.
People are selfish. Wang Tan had been a middle school teacher his entire life. He had finally gained status and recognition; could he easily give it up? Therefore, he would not tolerate Jiang He in his social circle; that would be a thorn in his side.
...
Wang Tan and I agreed that I would wait for his call back at school. Instead of Wang Tan's call, I received one from Yang Zhenzhen. She excitedly asked, "Tang Nan, are you at school?"
"Come to the sports field, I bought you a gift."
"I..."
Just as I was about to refuse, Yang Zhenzhen said plaintively on the other end, "I've been waiting for you on the sports field for over two hours."
"Who said I'd be going to the sports field?"
"Don't guys usually play basketball on the sports field?"
"Am I an ordinary person? Wait for me, I'll be right there."
When I arrived at the sports field, Yang Zhenzhen's appearance made my scalp tingle. She was wearing a pink one-piece dress, and her chubby figure reminded me of the pink pig on my keychain.
Seeing me, Yang Zhenzhen excitedly ran over and handed me a paper bag. I didn't open it, but peeking through the opening, I could see a pink garment inside.
"It's for you, do you like it?"
She spoke in a childish voice, which made me feel uncomfortable. I let out a long sigh. "Yang Zhenzhen, do you really think I would wear pink clothes?"
"Don't you like pink?"
"What are you trying to do? I admire your artistic talent, but do you think I like you? Have you watched too many K-dramas and think this is called love?"
Hearing my words, Yang Zhenzhen clearly faltered. "No, no, it's not."
Sighing, I turned to leave. Yang Zhenzhen started crying. I felt a pang of regret and wanted to go back and comfort her, but I was afraid she would misunderstand. I don't like overweight girls. I organized the exhibition for her purely to find Long-Tongued Ghost. It's true I spent over three hundred thousand yuan on her, but I couldn't let her think it was love.
...
I returned to wait for Wang Tan's call. My plans, which were proceeding smoothly, were thrown into disarray by Yang Zhenzhen. I looked at the pink outfit. It was a casual suit, reflecting Yang Zhenzhen's unique taste: gaudy and abstract. Who would normally wear such an outfit? Just as I was about to throw it in the trash, the phone rang. I thought it was Wang Tan, but it turned out to be Yu Xiaoluo.
"You met an old artist named Wang Tan today, didn't you?"
"Yes, Sis, how did you know?"
"He's dead. Come to the special investigation team."
"Dead?"
I could hardly believe my ears. Wang Tan had clearly told me he would call once he found Jiang He. How could he be dead?
When I arrived at the special investigation team, I learned that Wang Tan not only was dead but had committed suicide. Why would Wang Tan commit suicide? He had only recently gained status and recognition. I would believe it if he killed someone to protect his current situation, but suicide? How could I believe that?