My feelings of admiration for him grew deeper. After bidding goodbye to Ansley, I went to look for Christopher with a joyful heart. I had barely taken a couple of steps when I heard Remington asking him, “Master, can you really tell a person’s character through a painting? When will I be able to do that?”
“Nonsense!” Ansley stroked his beard like a mischievous old man, then he winked and said, “I’m not a deity of wisdom. How can I tell an artist’s character by looking at her art? That Crystal was obviously up to no good as she was giving an elderly man like me seductive looks. I certainly won’t help her. As for this lady, she is a friend of yours and you are my buddy. Of course, I stand by you. Come on, I’ve kept a bottle of good wine. Let’s go and enjoy it.”
When I heard this, I nearly stumbled and fell. I had thought that he had the wisdom of the gods! It turned out that he was just down to earth.
After a while, Christopher and I went on to admire the paintings of other artists. I noticed him standing in front of one piece for a long time. It was a painting of a beautiful girl, whose genitals were obscured by a fig leave. So, I asked, “Are you standing there, waiting for the leave to fall?”
“I believe many have stood right here waiting. I’m not the first to do so,” Christopher replied solemnly as if what I said was true.
Suddenly, a journalist came toward us holding a microphone. “Excuse me, dear lady from afar, are you the author of ‘Moonlight Heaven’?”
“Yes, I am!” I cleared my throat as I changed my facial expression from being playful with Christopher just now to something more serious.
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