Chapter Five: First Painting Sold—Ten Million!

"Hello!"
To Yang Xiaofan's surprise, the other party sent the first message.
"Hello."
Yang Xiaofan replied immediately.
"Um... are you the artist who paints on the wall of Northern Jiangsu University?"
"Yes."
"How can you prove it?"
"There’s no need to prove anything. I’m just selling paintings. As long as the art is genuine, that’s enough."
"Alright, then, may I ask, how should I buy your paintings?"
"Face-to-face transaction."
After a moment’s thought, Yang Xiaofan added,
"No credit."
"Okay, then where are you now? I’ll come to you."
"No need. You tell me where you are, and I’ll come to you."
Yang Xiaofan had no intention of letting the other party know where he lived. Revealing personal information could be dangerous; boys had to learn to protect themselves.
"I’ll send you my location—waiting for you at Moshang Café."
"Alright, I’ll be there soon."
After ending the conversation, Yang Xiaofan immediately looked for a sunny spot to paint.
For a painter of his now masterful level, painting was even easier than eating.
In just a few minutes, Yang Xiaofan produced several exquisite works, using up all ten sheets of rice paper the shop owner had given him, not wasting a single one—each painting completed in a single flourish.
Once they were dry, he gathered them up and quickly hailed a cab by the roadside, hurrying toward Moshang Café.
This café was a high-end establishment; the minimum spend was usually in the thousands.
Yang Xiaofan had never been here before, but he didn’t feel out of place.
After all, in the future, he would surely frequent such upscale venues.
As soon as he arrived, a smiling waiter approached.
"Good afternoon, sir, how many in your party?"
"I’m here to meet someone."
"Meeting someone? Please follow me."
Yang Xiaofan nodded, not surprised.
Anyone who could afford this kind of place had probably already spoken to the staff.
Guided by the waiter, he soon arrived at a quiet table upstairs.
A young woman was already seated there.
She wore a black, floor-length chiffon gown, with a small hat perched elegantly on her head. Her figure was slender and graceful, not an ounce of excess.
Her face was almost unreal in its beauty.
Delicate features adorned a pale, petite face; her large, almond-shaped eyes sparkled like spring water, clear and full of life, inviting endless reverie.
Coupled with her expensive designer attire—
Nine and a half out of ten men would be unable to resist being moved upon seeing her.
Yang Xiaofan also couldn't help glancing a few more times; after all, he was a healthy young man, full of youthful vigor.
The young woman didn’t take offense—perhaps she was used to being admired, or perhaps her self-restraint had reached an unattainable level.
Seeing him approach, she extended her hand with a polite smile:
"Hello. I’m Mu Shuyu."
"Yang Xiaofan."
Yang Xiaofan also extended his hand for a brief handshake.
So soft—he wondered whose hand was softer, hers or the class president’s?
"I didn’t expect the great artist to be so young."
"Every art has its prodigies. I started painting in my mother’s womb."
She couldn’t help but laugh at his words.
"You’re quite humorous."
"I try."
"Would you like something to drink?"
"Just a glass of water, thank you."
"Alright, waiter, please bring a glass of water for my friend."
"Of course."
After the waiter brought the water, he tactfully withdrew, leaving them in privacy.
"May I see your paintings?"
"Of course."
Yang Xiaofan immediately handed over the works he’d just completed.
Mu Shuyu unrolled the first painting. With barely a glance, her eyes lit up in surprise and admiration:
"Exquisite!"
Even an ordinary person could sense the charm in a master’s work.
To someone like Mu Shuyu, who loved art and had the means to appreciate it, the depth of skill was even more apparent.
But that was just the first painting. When she saw the second, her expression grew even more astonished.
By the time she’d finished viewing all the works, she took a deep breath, her gaze solemn.
"Mr. Yang, you’ve truly broadened my horizons today! These ten paintings—whether in technique or artistic conception—have transcended the mundane, reaching the very pinnacle of the craft! And the ten paintings, forming a continuous landscape, could truly be called masterpieces for the ages."
Yang Xiaofan nodded.
He had full confidence in his own skill.
"So, how much are you offering?"
"How much do you want?"
Mu Shuyu didn’t answer directly, but returned the question, catching Yang Xiaofan off guard.
He could paint, but as for selling paintings… he’d never done it before!
He had no idea what price to ask!
Still, with his paintings this good, surely a million would be reasonable?
Thinking this, Yang Xiaofan raised one finger.
"Ten million? That’s reasonable—not expensive at all!"
"???"
Yang Xiaofan’s face couldn’t help but twitch violently.
He’d only wanted one million, but the other party immediately offered ten times that, and even called it cheap.
No wonder so many people studied painting—a few sheets of paper, costing next to nothing, multiplied in value so many times over.
It was simply an enormous profit!
"Mr. Yang, do you have a bank account?"
"Uh… yes."
Yang Xiaofan quickly took out his bank card, and Mu Shuyu pulled out her phone, wiring him ten million on the spot.
When his phone notified him of the deposit, Yang Xiaofan’s heart skipped a beat.
Ten million!
He had never held so much money in his life!
And now, just for a few paintings, he had it—almost surreal! For a moment, the excitement nearly brought him to tears.
But, with someone else present, he had to compose himself.
After all, he was a master artist now—he couldn’t lose his composure!
"Well, since the deal is done, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave."
Mu Shuyu looked a bit surprised.
"Mr. Yang, won’t you stay a little longer?"
"No need, I have things to do this afternoon."
"Alright then, in that case, I won’t stay either. Let’s work together again sometime."
"Absolutely."
They walked downstairs together, and every server bowed respectfully to Mu Shuyu.
"Miss Mu."
She nodded, saying,
"This is my friend, Mr. Yang. In future, any expenses he incurs at Moshang will be charged to my account."
Yang Xiaofan quickly waved his hands.
"I couldn’t possibly."
Mu Shuyu smiled.
"It’s no trouble—friends help each other. If you really feel bad about it, you can give me a discount next time you sell me a painting."
"Well… alright then."
Yang Xiaofan nodded, not refusing further.
Having connections with someone like Mu Shuyu could only be beneficial—who knew, it might even help him expand his sales channels.