Chapter 60

The Mad Artist 5: Vanity's Good and Evil

On the day of the exhibition, the gallery was packed with professional art critics, museum staff, art collectors, and various art enthusiasts.

Anger and Mo Fei arrived at the entrance of the gallery at the start of the exhibition.

"Quite lively," Mo Fei commented.

"Yes, this is called talent," Jiuyi said softly, scratching the palm of Elisa, who was in his hand. He smiled, "Good things are never forgotten with time. On the contrary, the better they are, the more valuable they become with age."

Anger smiled and asked him, "Are you ready?"

"Piece of cake," Jiuyi smiled back and then asked Elisa, "What about you, Elisa? Are you ready?"

Elisa, still enjoying herself in Jiuyi's palm, rubbed back and forth comfortably, stretching out her limbs and waiting for Jiuyi's touch. Jiuyi gently poked Elisa's soft belly... Elisa immediately turned her body, covering her belly and looking at Jiuyi with a shy expression, making Jiuyi burst into laughter.

After getting out of the car, the group headed straight for the stairs leading to the art museum and entered the second-floor exhibition hall. Compared to the crowded central hall, Feng Zhe's gallery was almost deserted.

Anger glanced at the sign placed in front of the exhibition hall, which read: "Feng Zhe's Solo Art Exhibition."

The group exchanged glances and walked in.

Inside the gallery, many paintings were missing. Anger quickly noticed that Feng Zhe's later works, those imitating Oria's style, were gone, leaving only his earlier pieces.

After briefly perusing the art, Anger raised an eyebrow in judgment—Feng Zhe was a talentless painter!

Although Mo Fei was a layman in art, his time with Anger had honed his appreciation skills, and he too felt that Feng Zhe's paintings were subpar.

Jiuyi pocketed Elisa and began to examine the paintings while searching for Feng Zhe.

After viewing all the artworks, Anger asked the manager puzzledly, "Why aren't there any of Feng Zhe's later works?"

"Well... there were some," the manager said reluctantly. "But this morning, after seeing the exhibition next door dedicated to the late Oria, Mr. Feng took down all his later works and sent them back to his studio, claiming it was to pay tribute to Oria."

Anger gave a slight smile and exchanged a knowing look with Mo Fei—they both understood that the gallery was filled with scholars and experts deeply versed in Oria's work. If Feng Zhe had brazenly displayed Oria's imitations, it might have aroused suspicion, hence his sudden decision to remove the paintings.

"But I was really hoping to purchase some of his later works," Anger said. "I came here specifically for that. Is there any way I could take a look?"

"Um..." The manager hesitated, then responded to Anger, "Please wait a moment; I'll go find Mr. Feng."

"Okay," Anger nodded.

As the manager left, Jiuyi discreetly followed.

Soon, the manager returned with a young man. The man was not very tall, with long hair tied back, a sallow complexion, a lean figure, and he appeared somewhat unhealthy.

After being introduced by the manager, he greeted Anger and the others.

Angell said, "I want to buy your later works."

"Which one?" Feng Zhe asked.

"All of them," Anger replied.

Feng Zhe visibly hesitated, looking at Anger, unsure if he was serious or joking, before asking again, "All of them?"

"Yes," Anger nodded in agreement.

"We'll have to go to my studio for them," Feng Zhe replied. "It's located in the suburbs."

"No problem," Anger nodded again. "Shall we head there now?"

"Sure," Feng Zhe agreed, driving towards his suburban studio, with Anger and Mo Fei following in their car.

As the car hit the road, Angell called Jiu Yi, "How's it going?"

"I'm at his house already, and most of the paintings are moved," Jiuyi played with a key he had acquired from Feng Zhe through Elisa during the exhibition.

Jiuyi, following clues from the workers transporting the paintings, had located Feng Zhe's studio and directed the yet-to-be-stored paintings to be taken elsewhere.

After hanging up the phone, Jiuyi watched the workers leave with the paintings, a smirk on his lips. He then took out a can of gasoline he had prepared earlier.

Elisa, detecting the gasoline's odor, quickly slid into Jiuyi's pocket, covering her nose with her paws.

"I'm not fond of this smell either," Jiuyi shrugged to Elisa. "But doing something naughty with a beauty like you is thrilling, don't you think, Elisa?"

Elisa snuggled inside Jiuyi's pocket, settling into a comfortable position.

Jiuyi opened the gasoline can and doused the studio. He then took a sheet of sketch paper, stepped outside, and sat on the car's hood. Folding the paper into a plane, he lit its tail and gently tossed it. The burning paper plane drifted into the studio through a window and then... boom.

Jiuyi got into the car and drove off, muttering, "Ah, Elisa, we've set a fire today."

Elisa perched on the car seat, looking back at the blazing studio, then jumped onto Jiuyi's shoulder, nuzzling his neck in comfort.

After driving some distance and reaching the highway, Jiuyi saw Feng Zhe and Anger's car approaching from the opposite direction. They passed by each other, and Anger smiled faintly, seeing the thick smoke ahead.

Feng Zhe stopped his car in front of the burning studio. Stepping out, he stared in disbelief, murmuring, "How could this happen... how could this be..."

Seeing Feng Zhe about to rush into the studio, Mo Fei quickly grabbed him, exclaiming, "Are you insane?! Do you want to die? Call the police!" He then started dialing for help.

"Wait," Feng Zhe urgently waved his hand, "Don't call the police yet!"

Mo Fei and Anger exchanged glances... Feng Zhe was clearly afraid of involving the police, a typical sign of guilt.

"Shouldn't we at least call the fire department?" Mo Fei suggested.

"I need to get the paintings out!" Feng Zhe attempted to dash into the flames, but Anger stopped him, saying, "What's more important, your life or the paintings? Besides, if they're gone, you can always paint more!"

"I...," Feng Zhe wanted to say he couldn't paint anymore, but he had no choice; Angell and Mo Fei were right there... At that moment, Feng Zhe had only one thought – karma!

Eventually, Mo Fei reported the fire. After extinguishing the flames, the firefighters quickly determined it was arson, likely aided by an accelerant.

"Arson?" Anger furrowed his brow. "That's a serious crime. It should be thoroughly investigated."

"No need to investigate," Feng Zhe said. "The accelerant was probably gasoline and turpentine... I use them for my oil paintings."

"Ah, that makes sense," the firefighter nodded. "Oil painting studios are particularly prone to fire, as the paintings themselves are highly flammable."

"Must be a heavy loss, right?" Mo Fei asked Feng Zhe.

Feng Zhe shook his head, smiling. "As you said, lost paintings can be repainted. It's not a big deal."

"Hmm..." Anger said thoughtfully. "I really want your paintings, specifically the later style. If I give you a month, can you produce thirty more?"

"Thirty paintings in a month?" Feng Zhe thought. Only a madman like Oria could work at such a pace. But then he asked, "How much are you offering?"

"Well," Anger replied, "Oria's paintings are currently valued at around a million for a ten-inch canvas. I'm an art manager, and your paintings have great potential to appreciate in value. I plan to ship a batch back. If managed well, in a few years, you could surpass Oria's prices. After all, your later works have already exceeded Oria's early pieces."

Feng Zhe nodded, and Anger proposed, "How about this: I'll offer five hundred thousand for each of your thirty paintings."

Feng Zhe thought for a moment, then agreed, "Alright!"

Anger smiled. "I trust you. I'll contact you in a month to collect the paintings." With that, he and Mo Fei left.

Meanwhile, the brothers Xia Qi and Xia Fan were overwhelmed at the exhibition. Oria's paintings were authenticated as genuine, recently created works. Artists, collectors, and museum directors were almost hysterical, with bidding and exclamations filling the air. Oria's late works were near perfection, significantly surpassing his early and middle periods.

Confused by this, Mo Fei asked Anger, "Why do paintings created by a madman become more valuable than before?"

Anger smiled, "When your world is reduced to only painting, you are no longer a person, but a paintbrush. And who can paint better than a brush itself?"

The pair didn't linger at the museum and went straight home. Os also arrived, and they discussed the next steps of their plan.

That evening, an exhausted Xia Qi and Xia Fan returned home, exclaiming, "My God, I've never seen so much money in my life!"

"Yes..." Xia Qi rambled, "Oria's paintings aren't just art, they're like printing money! No... better than money, every stroke he made was gold, no... diamonds!"

Anger chuckled and asked, "Did Feng Zhe show up?"

"He came," Xia Fan nodded. "Anger, we also displayed the painting you imitated earlier and eventually sold it."

"You're quite capable," Os turned to Anger. "None of the experts realized your painting was a replica?"

Anger shook his head, saying, "Don't be silly, the collector who bought it is a friend of mine. I asked for his help... My style is vastly different from Oria's, any expert could tell at a glance... so, Feng Zhe must have realized it too."

"Did Feng Zhe agree to work with us because he learned of Oria's whereabouts through our exhibition?" Mo Fei asked. "Anger, was this your plan to lure him into a trap?"

Anger nodded with a smile, "He'll definitely fall for it... I've arranged everything."

The group exchanged glances, rubbing their hands in anticipation of capturing Feng Zhe tonight.

As night fell, Os brought Oria over. Xia Qi had already arranged for a reputable doctor to examine him. The conclusion was that Oria had suffered a fright and brain damage, leading to his disorientation, but a significant part was also psychological and treatable.

Oria was still dazed, but once Anger brought him to the studio, the two began to communicate through painting. The fluidity of their artistic language relaxed Oria, and he started conversing with Anger through his drawings.

The two stood silently painting together. Os, watching them, squinted and asked, "What are they doing?"

Xia Qi patted his shoulder, laughing, "You wouldn't understand. This is probably a conversation between geniuses."

They continued painting until midnight, while everyone else dispersed. Mo Fei and Os stayed in a nearby room, and Jiuyi and others lay in ambush... Around dawn, a car stopped outside the gallery... Feng Zhe sneaked out, took out a lock-picking tool, and broke into the gallery.

He peeked into the living room, seeing no one, then headed upstairs. Spotting light from the studio, he quietly pushed open the door to find Oria alone in a corner, painting.

"Oria!" Feng Zhe entered the studio. "So you were picked up by someone. I've been searching so hard for you... Come, come with me!"

Oria, engrossed in his painting, ignored Feng Zhe and continued to draw.

Feng Zhe took a few steps forward, pulling out a stun gun from his pocket...

Hearing the stun gun, Oria looked up and, recognizing it, tensely retreated to a corner.

Feng Zhe smiled, saying, "Don't be afraid, just come with me and I won't shock you!"

"Did you often use electric shocks on him?" A voice came from the doorway. "Though cruel, the shocks positively affected his neural recovery, speeding up his healing. That's what the doctor just said."

Feng Zhe turned, startled, and saw Anger standing there with a cup of tea.

Feng Zhe froze upon seeing Anger's face.

Anger walked past him into the studio, handed Oria a cup of coffee with twenty spoons of sugar, saying, "Your favorite. Geniuses are sugar-consuming creatures."

Oria took the cup of tea and sipped it, a look of comfort spreading across his face.

"Why would you..." Feng Zhe seemed bewildered. Anger looked at him and said, "I've realized his paintings are closer to Oria's style than yours, so I've decided not to collaborate with you. There's no need to rush those paintings anymore."

Feng Zhe clenched his teeth, then burst out, "You tricked me?"

Anger shrugged and said, "My original plan was to douse your studio in gasoline without igniting it. Your yellowed fingernails and teeth suggest you're a smoker... Many artists like to smoke while painting... so you had the means to start a fire. However..." Anger sighed, "Given my history of taking the law into my own hands, the police didn't agree with my plan. They just wanted me to lure you out and let them handle it."

Feng Zhe's face turned pale.

"The DNA results have come back," Anger continued. "He is indeed Oria himself, and his body bears multiple marks from a stun gun... similar to wounds caused by your stun gun. Plus, the Oria paintings found in your home. It's a clear case of being caught red-handed. Even if Oria can't personally accuse you, you won't escape this."

Feng Zhe's face turned ashen. He turned to run, only to be stopped by Os appearing at the door, who tackled and handcuffed him. The police arrived soon after and took him away. The museum director and a host of famous artists and collectors, informed of the entire situation, were appalled by Feng Zhe's actions.

The investigation into Oria's arson case was reopened. It was discovered that the detective handling Oria's case was friends with Feng Zhe. They had orchestrated the whole affair, kidnapping Oria, destroying evidence, and exploiting his art for profit.

With the case resolved, Anger used the proceeds from the auction of Oria's paintings to fund his medical treatment.

The incident soon quieted down, ending Os's nightmare of being the sewer monster.

The legendary tale of the famous painter was adapted into a new opera, 'The Phantom of the Opera', featuring an angelic heroine and a tragic love story, moving audiences to tears. The value of Oria's works skyrocketed overnight, but Anger and Mo Fei continued their peaceful life until six months later...

One day, a blond-haired, blue-eyed foreigner came to visit.

Opening the door, Mo Fei asked the handsome foreign man, "Who are you looking for?"

The man sized up Mo Fei and handed him something, saying, "Please give this to Anger and express my gratitude."

"Uh..." Mo Fei, puzzled, nodded, and the man bowed before leaving.

Anger lazily descended the stairs, saw Mo Fei standing at the door, and asked, "What's up? Another urn?"

"No," Mo Fei turned to him, dragging in the item left by the visitor—a nearly two-meter-tall and wide canvas paper box.

"Looks like a painting," Anger remarked.

"Yeah." Mo Fei used a blade to cut open the box and pulled back the paper to reveal a vibrant oil painting of Anger and Mo Fei, almost life-size, as if they were standing right there.

"Oh~~" Anger couldn't help but admire, "It's perfect! True genius really stands apart."

"Angler... was that Oria just now?" Mofei crouched down, looking at the signature in the corner of the canvas, asking Angler.

Angell stepped back to take a good look at the oil painting and said, "Mo Fei, everyone has vanity. Some people's vanity is shameful, while others' is endearing."

Mo Fei, puzzled, asked Angell, "Does this have to do with Oria?"

Angell sat on the sofa, crossing his legs, and explained, "Ever wonder why so many people do charity? Sometimes, helping others is truly selfless, but knowing that someone you helped achieved a good outcome and is very grateful... that can greatly satisfy one's vanity and bring immense happiness."

Mofei smiled and asked Angler, "Where should this painting be hung?"

"Hmm," Angell raised a finger, suggesting, "Burn it."

"What?" Mo Fei was taken aback. "But isn't that a waste?"

Angell shrugged, "I've already had my moment of joy."

"Angell," Mo Fei suggested, "If you don't want it, why not sell it or give it away?"

"No way," Angell stated firmly, petting the neck fur of his side companion, Ais. "He dared to paint you. That's unforgivable! Burn it! You're only allowed to be painted by me."

Mo Fei hesitated for a moment before taking the painting outside, dousing it in gasoline, and setting it alight.