Chapter 147： You use wasted

"The rich!"

"The powerful!"

Song Yun sighed, even fools know that there are definitely no ordinary people who can live in this yard.

Tang Miaomiao led Song Yun to the inside. After passing through the courtyard, a two-story building appeared. There was no decoration outside of the building. The concrete was simply smeared. Moss grew in the wet corners of the walls. , It is no different from a small courtyard in the country.

Tang Miaomiao opened the door, and Song Yun naturally followed behind. When he walked in, he found that the first floor of the entire small building was opened up, and there was a very large table in the middle, two meters wide. The length is definitely more than seven meters. The solid wood looks very domineering. In addition, there are one easel after another against the wall. Some of the above words have been completed, but most of them are still If it is not complete, it goes without saying that there are all kinds of paintings hanging on the wall. As long as you walk in this kind of place, it will be full of artistic atmosphere. Needless to say, the owner here is definitely a calligraphy artist.

"Peng Wei Peng old man, where on earth are you?"

"If it doesn't come out, I will sell those things to others!"

Tang Miaomiao yelled aloud, meaningless at all.

"I'm coming!"

"Coming soon!"

"You dare to sell those papers to others, I will look for you desperately!"

I don’t know where a man ran out, holding a pen in one hand and a paint box in the other. He was wearing a coarse cloth with various colors on his face and hands. A lot.

"Peng Guo!"

"China's famous young artist!"

"This is Song Yun."

"You two meet!"

Tang Miaomiao gave a brief introduction.

Song Yun was a little overwhelmed. The Peng Guo in front of him was only in his early 30s. Just now Tang Miaomiao was called Old Man Peng, and he thought he was really a seven-year-old man.

"I'm just a little older. How can Tang Miaomiao's nickname really be an old man?"

Seeing the expressions on everyone's faces, Peng Guo immediately knew why, and quickly explained.

Song Yun looked at it carefully. In a sense, what Tang Miaomiao said was true. Peng Guo did look a little old, with a young body but a face like an old man, not seventy or eighty, four or five. Around ten, such a person must have the nickname of an old man.

Peng Guo was very helpless, Song Yun's eyes had betrayed everything.

"The words here are yours?"

Song Yun didn’t have anything to say. When he first came in, he discovered that these paintings and calligraphy were unusual. Almost all of them were exuding white light. Some of them were hanging on the wall very strongly. The estimated value is about 7 million or even close to 10 million. Mark.

If it is an ancient calligraphy and painting, this is not surprising. The problem is that these paintings are very new, some are not signed at all, and the ink color is also relatively light, which is clearly just recently painted.

"Yes, nothing wrong, what's the matter?"

Peng Guo was at a loss.

"These paintings of yours are good, don't you know if you can sell them?" Song Yun simply pointed to the two Chinese paintings hanging on the wall. "I think these two paintings are good. You can sell them to me if you want, of course. The name must be written to me, and all seals must be stamped!"

"Have you seen it, this is the expert, this is the master, you can tell at a glance, the best two of you tatters."

As soon as Tang Miaomiao saw the two paintings that Song Yun pointed to, a smile appeared on his face. Song Yun is worthy of being a master at picking up leaks. He painted all over the room and found the most valuable one. This kind of vision is too cool.

"Not for sale!"

"These two works are my most proud of, and I have to save myself to appreciate them!"

"Are there anything else you can see?"

"If you have it, sell it to you, and it's fine with a discount."

Peng Guo looked at Song Yun with a strange look.

"Never mind anything else!"

Song Yun didn't even think about it, and immediately refused. The paintings here in South Korea are not bad except for the two paintings that he fancy, but they are so poorly level that they have no collection value at all.

Peng Guo was a little disappointed, but there was no way for this kind of thing, and Song Yun looked down on it.

"Tang Miaomiao, where's the paper you mentioned? Show it to me!"

Peng Guo didn’t talk about this at all. It was a sad thing to say, but he was not disappointed at all. Now that he is still young, he has been able to draw collection-level paintings. What he pursues now is stability. It will be no problem in another 10 years. .

"Do you use these papers yourself?"

Song Yun frowned.

Tang Miaomiao is planning to sell the paper to Peng Guo?