You Are Deep in The Stars

Although the two dining guests didn’t seem to be in a very happy mood, the violinist came to the table and played a piece of music for them dutifully with a smile on his face. It was extremely romantic.

Bai Xi began to sincerely regret not staying in the company and eating delicious and cheap curry pork chop rice with Liu Chunchun.

“Don’t feel sad,” Han Zhuo thoughtfully poured water for him. “At least the food tastes good, right?”

“I don’t think so.” Bai Xi put down his fork. “This meal doesn’t count. Rounding it off, you still owe me one.”

“Of course.” Han Zhuo agreed happily and looked at his plate again. “But you didn’t eat much today. Why don’t we go to another restaurant?”

“Forget it, let’s go back to the company.” Bai Xi called the waiter and asked Mr. Han opposite him to pay the bill. “Right now, I want to know the progress of the gallery more than eating.”

Han Zhuo nodded and called Wang Yuanchen on the phone in the car.

“Everything goes well.” The voice coming from the receiver was very arrogant. “The contract has been signed, the exhibition will be held in one month, and the five million will be received within a week. The only thing that Mr. Zhang Chunchun needs to do now is to prepare fifty paintings and give himself a name that doesn’t sound so stupid.”

Han Zhuo reminded with a smile, “Your employer’s surname is Liu.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Wang Yuanchen replied disdainfully. “I’m going to the bar to have a drink. I’ll pick him up at five o’clock.”

“I didn’t expect that.” Bai Xi tutted, “This Mr. Wang is quite reliable.”

“I’ve said so before. There will be no problem with this matter,” Han Zhuo said. “Now you can discuss with Chunchun which name he want to use for debut.”

.

Of course, the name Xiao Daqian couldn’t do it, and Xiao Baishi didn’t sound good either, but Liu Chunchun hesitated. While he was struggling, his bank account “dinged” with an extra five million balance. Looking at the credit message, Liu Chunchun said to Mr. Wang with a trembling voice, “Am I dreaming?”

Wang Yuanchen put down his hand. There were cigarettes in the bag, and he was wrapped in a shiny bathrobe. He looked at Liu Chunchun lazily and curled his fingers.

Liu Chunchun quickly leaned his head over.

“Pah!”

A clear and loud slap.

It hurt like hell.

Not a dream.

Liu Chunchun cried with joy.

Yu Jiong and Wang Xiaosen finally got their wish and had a lobster set meal worth 1888 per serving. Of course, Bai Xi and Mr. Han came with them to enjoy the meal, and after having a full meal, everyone unanimously approved Liu Chunchun’s new debut name: 215, which was also the university dormitory number of four people. As for the issue that 215 didn’t sound like a human name, anyway, there were many weird names in the art world, so it didn’t matter at all.

“Okay!” Liu Chunchun said with silly smile, “My name is 215!”

Half a month later, the news that the up-and-coming painter Mr. 215 was about to hold an art exhibition made headlines in all major media. Regardless of the conspiracy behind it, the influence of Moses Gallery in the professional field was still top-notch. Wang Yuanchen’s mobile phone vibrated almost all the time, as media wanted to make appointments for interviews. Of course, no one got through. Firstly, it was because Han Zhuo said that the more mysterious, the better, and secondly, it was because Mr. Wang was too lazy to answer.

Liu Chunchun temporarily stopped applying for jobs and was busy preparing new paintings. At ten o’clock in the evening, Wang Yuanchen stood in the living room full of paint smell with a glass of red wine. His face was very, very ugly.

“…I, I, I will go to the balcony to paint.” Liu Chunchun picked up the easel with a guilty conscience.

“You know that in a sense, this art exhibition has nothing to do with you.” Wang Yuanchen shook the scarlet liquid in the cup and said casually, “Even if you hand over fifty pieces of blank paper, Moses Gallery will not object.”

“But there will still be real audiences coming to the exhibition,” Liu Chunchun put away the paint tray. “They come voluntarily to see my works, not the paid audience by Brother Bai.”

Wang Yuanchen sneered, “So you also know.” He walked forward and picked up a painting with his fingertips. “What is this?”

Liu Chunchun glanced at it and said, “I haven’t finished painting ‘The Fried Dough Sticks Vendor.'”

Wang Yuanchen frowned. “You are not allowed to paint.”

Liu Chunchun was confused: “Why?”

Wang Yuanchen replied, “Because I don’t like fried dough sticks.”

Liu Chunchun: “…”

“Your paintings are so boring, no wonder you can’t be famous.” Wang Yuanchen put down the wine glass and took off his bathrobe belt. “But I’m in a good mood today, so I can let you see what real art is.”

Five minutes later, Liu Chunchun hid in the bathroom and called Bai Xi, his voice trembling and weak. He said there was a perverted nymphomaniac who insisted on drawing his naked body. It was like a lunatic, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

Bai Xi was very unsympathetic and said, “Hahahahahahahaha.”

Liu Chunchun was completely disappointed.