When Monroe said this, the topic suddenly turned around: "Our landlord once sent this painting, with four words on it-the way to Jane. Today, the little girl will show this painting. This painting The base price is 100,000 spars."
"What? 100,000 spar, my god! It is very expensive."
"100,000 yuan is not too expensive. You never heard Monroe say that the old owner of Amber Villa gave this painting a name, called Jane Avenue."
"An old hen leading a group of chicks can really sell hundreds of spars? I don't believe in killing him."
This painting does not sell paintings, it sells artistic conception, it sells the breath of time.
Just as people were talking, a voice that couldn't hide their excitement suddenly appeared.
I will give 110,000 spar.
Wu You looked at the photo in Monroe's hand with blinking eyes. His breathing became a little fast. He just looked at the photo for a while. Suddenly, he felt a weak sense of breakthrough.
Wu You said in peace: "This painting is really great. It has a wonderful function to help others break through. It really deserves to be a road to Jane."
Well done, I gave 120,000 spar.
A confident voice came from the auction table.
The crowd looked inside and found that it was Zhang Kun, an elite disciple of the Pearl Academy.
Zhang Kun looked at the photo in Monroe's hand without blinking, but only for a while. This painting gave him a wonderful feeling.
I will give 150,000 spar.
There is the sound of air conditioning in the hall.
They followed the popularity. At some point, Leng Yuexuan, one of the four sons of Amber City, appeared at the entrance of the hall.
Leng Xuanyue looked indifferent. He looked at the photos on the stage from a distance, dumbfounded. After a while, he suddenly felt heart palpitations. The painting seems to have become a knife. Han Sen's death made him tremble.
At this time, the pictures seen by different people gave them completely different feelings.
I give 200,000 spars!
Qin Chenxi suddenly said loudly.
"I will give two hundred and fifty thousand!"
Zhang Kun did not give in.
"I will give you 300,000!"
Wu You raised prices again.
I give 500,000 spar!
Leng Yuexin said coldly.
Soon after the photo of the old hen appeared, countless young people were attracted to **** it. In an instant, the price rose to 800,000 spars.
The atmosphere at the auction site became very warm. The auction, cheers and applause are intertwined to form an extremely vivid picture.
No one noticed the corner.
Yue Yun approached Zifeng and asked in a low voice, "Why don't you participate in the auction? I know you are very rich now, don't you even have the courage to bid once?"
Zifeng smiled faintly, muttering to himself in a low voice, "Will I bid for my own graffiti? Thank you for coming out."
"What? Zifeng, what are you talking about? Did you draw the picture of that old hen?" Yunyue's eyes widened, looking at Zifeng in shock.
"Uh. No, you must have heard it wrong." Zifeng smiled and said, "That painting is more than 9,000 years old. Do you think I painted it? Do you think I am a monster?"
Yunyue stared at Zifeng with a pair of wonderful eyes, her eyes flowed, she suddenly smiled, smiling mysteriously.
"Hey, Zifeng, you accidentally missed your mouth this time. When did I really not know your secret? The more you deny it, the more sure I am that you must have painted this picture. What else is graffiti? A terrible painting attracted so many people to grab it. Do you dare to be shameless?" Yunyue said in peace.
If Monroe hadn't mentioned the word "The Avenue to Jane", Zifeng would not remember that the hens and chickens that everyone was fighting for were his masterpieces of graffiti.
Looking back on that year, Zifeng was young, well-connected, talented, and had beautiful family members.
One day, Zifeng and Xue Qian were frolicking in the yard.
Qian Xiaoxue asked Zifeng, can you draw with other tools besides a brush? Zifeng thought for a while, reached out to get Qianxue, and directly pulled Qianxue to the study.
After going to the inkstone and rice paper, Zifeng dragged Xue Qian out of the study excitedly.
where are we going? Xue Qian asked curiously.
Marry you and you will know. Zifeng said confidently.
He took Xue Qian and ran fast all the way. After a while, he came to a cotton spinning factory.
The workshop was buzzing, and countless craftsmen were playing with cotton in the workshop.
The cotton wool flies everywhere, like soft snowflakes.
Zifeng brought Xue Qian to the workshop and put the inkstone in Xue Qian's hands. He spread the rice paper on the ground, then grabbed a large amount of lint from the corner of the room, kneaded it with his hands, and dipped the lint on Xue Qian's inkstone.
Xue Qian, do you think I use cotton as a pen to draw scrolls is the best or the worst?
After Zifeng pondered for a moment, he suddenly laughed. What's the problem? I show you.
Zifeng said: "Grab the cotton wool dipped in ink, gently throw it on the rice paper, and then throw it away.
At this time, a wonderful picture appeared on the white rice paper. I saw an old hen leading a group of chickens, looking for bugs to eat.
This is. Is this a picture of a group of chickens? What does this have to do with spring?
Zifeng stretched out his hand to catch the chicken in the painting, and said: Do you think it is of course spring when the old hen hatches its chicks?
The old hen took a group of chickens around looking for bugs to eat. However, there are no bugs in my photos. Maybe the worm has been eaten by the chicken.
When does the worm spread? Naturally, it is time for spring to bloom.
My painting has neither trees nor trees, neither genius scholars nor beauties, nor birds, insects, fish and animals. It will not exceed your limit. However, I, an old hen, took a group of chickens around looking for insects to eat. However, there is no picture without spring, and there is no picture analogous to spring.
Xue Qian gave Zifeng a deep look and smiled. You are so cunning. You are right this time. However, I can see another mood in the picture of your chicken, which is very close to the road leading to Jane.
In fact, Xue Qian was the first person to see the artistic conception in this painting. Zifeng said to herself.
At this moment.
Because of a joke between Zifeng and Xue Qian, Zifeng believes in a bad painting with graffiti. The artistic conception has been enlarged to 1 million spars, and it is still rising.
However, at this moment, a middle-aged man wearing a brocade robe quickly walked onto the auction stage and whispered a few words to Monroe with a serious expression.
Monroe's face changed.
"I'm really sorry, gentlemen, our landlord suddenly went through customs and named some simple scrolls on this avenue. We don't sell this painting. Everyone, I'm really sorry."
Monroe stood on the high podium and bowed deeply to the audience, his face full of guilt.