Terrorist attacks

Lin Xin heard that the painter was there, so he walked to the owner and looked into the back room.

The room is not big, and it is full of painting tools, and there are some semi-finished products on the ground. Although it is complicated, it is still neat.

Standing by the window is a man, who is lying on a square table, holding a wool pad in his right hand and inserting it into the starch water in the front right of the table, then lifts it up, and sweeps it towards the rice paper on the table.

The owner explained:

"This is the first process of mounting a painting, called 'backing'. Wait a minute, Joe doesn't like to be disturbed when he is painting."

Lin Xin didn't speak.

He has seen this person twice, and was shocked by him both times, and he couldn't help but look at him a few more times, but it couldn't be more shocking than the way he is now painting with such meticulous concentration and silence.

The sunlight was not too harsh at all, it came in gently and sprinkled on him, making the contours of his face softer, and his whole body seemed to be shimmering.He was wearing a very ordinary white overalls, slightly stained with color, but it still looked good.

Originally, Lin Xin was not sure that he had Chinese blood, but now he is completely sure.

He stood at the door and continued to watch until the man put down his pen and looked over from a distance: "What's the matter?" With a very flat tone, when he saw Lin Xin, a flash of emotion flashed in his eyes, and it quickly disappeared.

"This young man wants to buy your painting outside. I can't make up my mind. Ask him to come and ask you."

Lin Xin thought for a long time before saying:

"meet again."

What Qiao Yisheng was thinking at that time was whether he had someone follow Lin Xin, or Lin Xin followed him.

He smiled faintly:

"Master Wang is right. I don't sell that painting. There are many good paintings in the store. There is no need to buy that one. Many places have handled it badly."

Lin Xin was a little surprised, and instead of answering his words, he asked:

"I didn't expect that you are still from Beijing. You have lived in Beijing for a long time, right?"

Qiao Yisheng didn't expect him to ask this question, and answered him:

"It happened a long time ago, and I can't remember it myself. Can you still hear the Beijing flavor?"

"It's not so obvious, but it can still be heard. Wherever a person goes, many previous habits cannot be changed. It's like planting in the body and cannot be pulled out."

Qiao Yi listened to his words, they were all new words, and no one had ever said them to him.

When he was a child in Beijing, he was very reticent, and what he heard was mostly ridicule.Later, when he came to the United States, it was bloody at the beginning, and gradually he said various orders most often. When others replied to him, it boiled down to "yes" or "no". It is very rare for others to speak from the bottom of their hearts.

Qiao Yisheng walked over slowly, glanced at him, and asked with a smile:

"Do you really want to buy that painting?"

Lin Xin was stunned for a moment, knowing that he drew it, so he had no idea. Although he didn't know the details of the other party, the only information he gave him was that he was not easy to mess with.

However, when he asks such a question now, it seems that there is still room for change. Lin Xin didn't want to go against his will, so he nodded in response to him: "I want to buy."

"Well, let's go out and talk, don't hinder Master Wang's business."

After speaking, he took off the overalls he was wearing neatly, put them gently on the back of the chair, and hung up the painting that had just begun to be mounted, entrusting the shopkeeper to take care of it.After everything was settled, he walked up to him: "Let's go."

The two went out, Lin Xin followed him, and found a coffee shop at the end of the small street, near noon, there were not many people in the shop, and melodious and quiet tunes surrounded the surroundings.Lin Xin picked up a seat by the window, and the two sat down.

Each ordered a cup of coffee, Qiao Yan took a sip and asked him:

"Why did you choose my painting?"

Lin Xin shook his head:

"I can't tell. I liked it the first time I saw it. I don't know how to draw."

"Are you from Beijing?"

"Yes, I was born and raised here. Later, I went to university and got busy with work, so I wandered around."

Qiao Yi suddenly asked him:

"are you not hungry?"

Lin Xin took another sip of coffee and replied:

"I don't know how much time you can give me."

Qiao Yan waved at the boss, and ordered a steak and a thick soup each.Lin Xin smiled, this is to have a long talk.

Lin Xin looks up from time to time. He has a good family background and has met countless celebrities and nobles, all of whom are dignified and elegant. Take a look.

He didn't understand what kind of person this was. Yesterday outside the hotel, he was vaguely seen standing behind the people with unfathomable depths, without saying a word, with an indifferent expression; just now in the studio, he was focused and meticulous, brushstroke by brushstroke. Draw and sketch slowly, the spots on his white clothes almost pulled him off the altar, turning him into a human being, like countless painters, it turned out that he also had something in his heart; now, he uses the knife and fork to the extreme, Lin Xin thinks Elegance and calmness cannot be fully described.

"I don't sell paintings. I like that one very much." Qiao Yan stopped the knife and fork in his hand and looked at Lin Xin.

Lin Xin took a sip of the thick soup and nodded:

"Your painting, you can decide whatever you want. I like the strong contrast, just like a person has two personalities, but they are connected very naturally. I like the warm and majestic sun and the quiet and comfortable countryside. .”

Qiao Yisheng didn't speak for a long time, Lin Xin didn't know what he was thinking, and didn't speak anymore, the surroundings fell into silence in an instant, and the slight sound of the knife and fork falling into the plate was shocking.

"Although the paintings are not for sale, they can be given away. My own paintings are meaningless to be framed and hung up for appreciation. It's rare that you like them, so I can give them to you."

What he said was unexpected to Lin Xin, and he froze in place in astonishment, not knowing how to react.

"Has Beijing changed much now?"

Lin Xin really wanted to praise him for jumping his mind, so he could only answer him:

"It's very big, and many places have been demolished. Now it's hard to find a courtyard house in the whole Beijing city. Rare things are expensive, and the price is sky-high. The city is developing very fast. Another one. Why, haven't you been back for many years?"

"It's been more than ten years. I used to learn Chinese painting in Beijing for a period of time, and then I came to the United States. I was busy with work and had no time to take care of it. After a long time of leisure, I realized that this place is somewhat similar to the environment where I learned painting when I was a child. And you can learn something too.”

Lin Xin took a bite of the steak and agreed:

"I also don't like large art galleries like exhibition halls the most. They are garish, and they talk too much about theoretical knowledge, but they are far behind in real practice. Small art studios are tasteful and authentic."

Qiao Yin asked him:

"Are you an overseas Chinese? Or are you just here to visit relatives?"

Lin Xin shook his head:

"It's just a business trip to the United States, and the air ticket the day after tomorrow is leaving."

"Is it done?"

"I won't mention it, it's not going well, the other party is too difficult, so I have to rush to the next stop."

Joe suppressed his smile:

"I'll go back and frame the painting before I give it to you. Tomorrow, it should be finished tomorrow night."

"Well, you won't get rewarded for nothing, and I'll treat you to dinner tomorrow night as a thank you."

Joe nodded in a low voice:

"At that time, I will go to Hilton to find you, and it will cost money."

Lin Xin asked the waiter in the coffee shop for a pen and paper, lowered his head and wrote something, then tore it up and handed it to Qiao Yisheng: "This is my contact information, and it will be turned on 24 hours a day."

Qiao Yisheng took the pen and quickly wrote down his number and email address.

Lin Xin took a look at it and said seriously:

"You are indeed a student of Chinese painting, calligraphy is also good, I didn't bring a business card, otherwise I have to take back that note to avoid embarrassment."

I looked at it carefully again and read it out:

"Joe-y-sound?"

The other party nodded and looked at him.

"It's an interesting name."

"How do you say it?" Qiao suppressed his voice and approached him, waiting for him to explain.

"It's similar to Mr. Zhang Henshui's pen name, and it was taken from Bai Juyi's "Pipa Xing"?"

Qiao Yi couldn't help laughing twice, and said:

"I came to the United States very early, and I am not proficient in Chinese literature. It may only be at the level of primary and middle school students. I can speak and write. I don't understand what you said." The hands under the table are overlapping, and the joints are slightly whitish.

Lin Xin folded the note carefully, put it in his jacket pocket, and said:

"Your Chinese painting is very artistic, I really like it. It was just a joke just now, don't care about it."

The two talked for a while, seeing that it was getting late, they said goodbye and left separately.