Valkyrie Europa

Chapter 303
As usual, when it was still daylight, Klimt came to the art street and came to the small booth that belonged to him.

After hanging five paintings of different sizes on the wall, Klimt sat on a small bench, took out a small piece of black bread, gnawed on it, and waited for the business to come.

He has been setting up a stall here for more than half a month, and he has not done his beloved painting for more than half a month. There is no other reason, and his money is almost gone.

The skill of painting is different from music, and it is very expensive.Those who make music, save money to buy an instrument, and if it is properly maintained, it can be used to death.But painting is different. Painting needs to buy drawing paper, paints, brushes of various specifications, easels, oil paintings and even expensive canvases, plus those that are accidentally wasted and the painting is wasted.It can be said that each painting is piled up by countless jingling silver coins.

As far as the smallest oil painting is concerned, even if the cheapest frame, canvas, and paint are used. Even if everything goes well and there is no waste, the cost of one painting will be more than 20 silver!Almost half a month's salary is more than half a month's salary compared to ordinary workers.

And Klimt now only has 11 silver coins left in his pocket, which can no longer support him to open new works, and can only support his accommodation and food expenses for a few days.He had no choice but to select a few relatively good ones from among his own works and sell them on Art Street.

But this business is not easy to do, and the pressure of competition is extremely high.On the long street, which is only a few hundred meters long, there are often as many as hundreds of stalls selling paintings, and when the rent and accommodation fees are paid at the end of the month, this number can double.Among them, there are many people who paint better than him, so he has only sold one of the stalls here for half a month, and the selling price is extremely low, which is only enough for him to make ends meet, so that he will not go to the municipal government. Batter for handouts from the hall or church.

To be honest, after trying the musty, bitter batter that was almost unpalatable, he didn't want to go there again.

It was another fruitless morning, countless people passed by his booth, but no one stopped, and no one asked for a price.
A small piece of black bread did not satisfy his hunger. By noon, his stomach was empty and his belly groaned like a drum, but he had no choice but to bear it. He only had 11 silver coins, 10 of which were silver coins. He also has to pay the accommodation fee at the end of the month. In order not to sleep on the street, he can only minimize his expenses.

Finally, in the afternoon, he waited for a guest.

"Hey, what's the name of the biggest one?" The visitor asked arrogantly with a fat face, fancy clothes, and a big belly.

Klimt immediately regained his spirits, and began to introduce, "Oh, dear sir, it is called "Maple Forest in the Morning Sun", and it is my most proud work. I am here"

"How much?" The fat man in colorful clothes interrupted him impatiently, and asked the price directly.

Seeing the business coming, Klimt hurriedly said: "Oh, dear sir, this is a large work. In order to paint it, I stayed in the Prater Park for three months, and after several weeks Polish and modify."

"Don't talk nonsense, how much is it?" The impatient look on the face of the fat man in the flowered clothes was even worse. "

"A gold mark! Only one is needed!" Hearing the impatience in the customer's tone, Klimt hurriedly said.

"50 silver! No more." The fat man in the flowered clothes still had an arrogant expression on his face.

"Oh, no, my dear sir, 50 silver is not enough. This is a large painting. And the frame, canvas, and paint I chose are the best, and this painting took me more than three months In any case, it’s more than 50 silver.” Klimt hurriedly said, “How about 90 silver, you can take it away with 90 silver.”

"60 silver, this is the final offer." The fat man in the flowered clothes glanced at Klimt, his tone full of sarcasm: "Young man, it's not the time it takes to see whether this painting is worth it! Art Academy Even if it took only three days for the masters to paint, they can sell for tens of thousands of gold! And what if it took three years for a guy like you, it’s not as good as others! 60 silver, the last I have made an offer, are you willing to sell it?"

"No, sir, it's worth at least 80 silver, how about 80 silver, only 80 silver." Klimt began to plead.

But the fat man in the flowered clothes didn't let go: "It's only 60 silver. If you want to sell it, you can sell it. If you don't want it, I'll leave!"

The price of 60 silver was far lower than Klimt’s expectation. This painting was already his favorite one. The price of various materials alone was no less than 40 silver. Suddenly, Klimt struggled with heaven and man, and fell into a struggle.

After hesitating for a long time, he raised his head and said bitterly, "Okay, just 60 silver."

But when he was hesitating, his customer had already left, and he was chatting with the stall owner at another stall not far away.

Klimt struggled again, raising and lowering his legs, opening and closing his lips, but in the end, he still didn't walk over.

Gradually, as the sun set, the pedestrians on the Art Street became less and less, and many stalls began to clean up, ready to go home.

Sighing, Klimt tried his best to throw away the regret and guilt in his mind, also tidied up the few paintings, and started to walk to the residence.

The place where he lives is a chicken feather hotel, the most shabby and cheapest kind, and he lives in the cheapest Chase shop, that is, a room full of long rows of beds, and he owns one of them for less than one year. Meter wide beds.

Locking the painting in a cabinet outside the room, Klimt lay on his bed, ready to sleep.

However, the room in the Datong shop was full of people coming and going, and it was extremely noisy, and many people were preparing dinner. Whether it was the noisy words or the aroma of the food, Klimt could not sleep.

Really unable to fall asleep, he got up and prepared to go to the hotel without the door to get some air.

"Oh, Klimt, why don't you go to dinner." The small window at the door of the hotel opened, and an old man stuck his head out.

"I, I've already eaten." Klimt hurriedly explained.

Gollum~
But the rumbling sound of his stomach betrayed him deeply.

"Oh, you said you've eaten, so you'll run out of money at the end of the month?" The old man sighed.

"No, no, no, I have money, and I won't default on the rent." Somewhat flustered, Klimt began to explain.

"Oh, if you can't pay the rent for a while, it doesn't matter if you are in arrears for a few days." The old man smiled and said, "You can't be hungry. How can you draw something good when you are hungry?"

"I'm not hungry" Klimt still argued to himself, but his momentum was obviously lacking.

"Oh, by the way, I see that you are also a painter, and your paintings are not bad. I have a job here, and the salary is good. Would you like to try it?" The old man didn't continue the topic of eating.

Work?

Klimt had actually heard about those so-called jobs, which made his tone become a little anxious: "Well, this, in fact, I'm not very good at drawing characters, well, this, I usually paint more landscapes." Some, um, and, I've never painted anything like that."

"Oh, it's not the kind of job you're thinking of." The old man quickly denied, "It's all serious work, and the boss is in the hotel and lives upstairs. Although I don't know what they ask people to paint, it's definitely not what you want. like that."

"Then, well, this, I'll try first," Klimt "reluctantly" agreed.

(End of this chapter)