"Yes, I need to mention it a little bit here, so that it will have a Mabutula style feeling..." Delisle held the hand of a handsome boy and made some graffiti on the canvas that people could not understand. Graffiti is often called "art" by normal people. Sometimes what art requires is incomprehension, otherwise why would artists be proud of themselves
While feeling the masculine little hand in his hand, he gently leaned on the boy's shoulder, greedily sniffing the boy's good smell. He felt like he was about to fly into the sky. If those two damn guys weren't still staring at him last time, he might have taken the little boy to the secret room to discuss higher arts.
With some greed, he retracted his hand, straightened up, looked at the drawing boards in front of the other children, and kept nodding. Although Delisle's own artistry is still open to question, his ability to appreciate art is quite good. Among these children, he is very optimistic about a girl and a boy. He believes that these two children have real artistic qualities. If If you can enter a good art college to study in the future, you will most likely become a great artist.
Just when he was imagining that he had trained many artists and was trying to rectify his name in the art world, a rough and brutal footsteps startled him. He turned around impatiently, crossed his chest angrily, and looked at the guy who ruined the mood with a slight pout. He knew that person, he was Mrs. Vivian's driver.
The speed with which he changed his face was like his level as an artist, which should be considered first-rate. He immediately put on a smiling face and faced him. Just when he was about to ask why Mrs. Vivian didn't come in, the driver spoke before him, "The mayor invites you to come. I hope you won't embarrass me."
Delisle's expression changed slightly. He arranged for his assistant to take care of the children, then tidied up his clothes and re-wiped some cosmetics before following the driver back to the mayor's manor.
This is the second time Delisle has met the mayor up close. The first time was at the art auction held by the Chamber of Commerce. He appraised some works of art for Mrs. Vivian. The mayor happened to be there, but both parties After greeting each other, they didn't say another word, and the mayor left directly in the middle. Therefore, this was the second time the two met at close range, which made Delisle feel slightly uncomfortable. He couldn't explain why he felt uncomfortable, but he was a little flustered anyway.
"I heard that Madam has been buying some expensive works of art from you, right?" The Lord Mayor did not ask him what he wanted to know right away. Instead, he started talking about topics that were neither important nor relevant. Head, "It can be seen that Madam likes art, and the art is piled up in a storage room."
Delisle could only smile apologetically while the mayor was speaking, and nodded guiltily. He knew the "true situation" of his artworks. To put it bluntly, it is nothing more than his reward for pimping those noble ladies. Direct money transactions are too easy to make people suspicious, but this method of payment for purchasing art is much more normal. Because everyone's ability to appreciate art is different, you may think that a certain piece of art is worthless, but in the eyes of those who like it, it is priceless. This controversial and extremely idealistic payment method saved Delisle a lot of trouble and was concealed enough. To this day, many people still don’t know what his real business is.
"How much do you think your so-called works of art are worth?" The mayor looked friendly with a smile, but for some reason, Delisle always felt that the mayor in front of him was dangerous.
"Probably... worth some money?" Delisle tried to say carefully. Seeing that the mayor had no clear objection, he breathed a sigh of relief and continued: "Art is actually very difficult to understand. For example, Mr. Mark's "Genesis" is just a circle drawn with multiple colors on the canvas. I can also achieve such painting techniques and painting results, but the meaning of what I paint represents is far away. Not as high as 'Genesis'."
He said earnestly: "Everyone has a position on art in their heart, whether it is high or low, but art itself is priceless!"
The mayor nodded seriously, "What you said makes sense, but I asked great artists from Aldo and the capital to taste the works of art you sold to Madam, and they told me that those things are not even for apprentices. The works may not be comparable, what do you think about this?”
Of course it's not comparable. Those are just children's graffiti. Their real purpose is to cover up "prostitution". How could real works of art be sold to these noble ladies? Delisle just smiled awkwardly and did not raise any objection. He knew clearly that shutting up at this time was more meaningful than explaining.
Seeing that the heat was almost over, the mayor slowly said: "I understand what you are doing and what they are doing. Now I don't want to care about so many things. You just need to tell my wife who she has been with recently." "
Delisle was silent. He knew that one day someone would see through his business, but he didn't expect it would be so soon, and he didn't expect that the person who saw through his business would have such a high status.
"Aren't you willing to speak?" The mayor shook his head, "Or do you think silence can combat problems you can't avoid?"
Delisle still remained silent. The next second, the mayor reached out and picked up the several kilograms of crystal ashtray on the coffee table, and hit Delisle's head hard. People always talk about how hard bones are. Maybe the bones are really hard, but the skin and flesh are very soft. Blood flowed down his forehead, and Delisle's eyes went dark, with some flashes of light blooming. He was unable to focus due to the dizzy feeling of dizziness.
With a bang, Delisle's head slammed to the side again, and the heat in his nasal cavity could not stop rolling out. He reached out and touched it. It was not blood, but a clear liquid. When he faintly felt that danger was coming again, he realized that he had to hold his head with both hands. The heavy pain in his arm made him scream now, but the mayor had already ordered that no one would come in.
"Look, keeping a secret may cost you your life, but if you tell it, you won't lose anything." The mayor panted slightly, threw the crystal ashtray back on the coffee table, and sat back down. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood on his hands. The shocking red stained the handkerchief with spots.
(End of chapter)