Rebirth: How A Loser Became A Prince Charming

Chapter 551: The Oil Painting Deal

Chapter 551: The Oil Painting Deal

Translator: Lan Editor: Efydatia

Cong Nianwei burst into laughter at the funny boy.

"All visitors are our guests. You are in charge of the reception. Make some tea for us."

She would rather have a private talk with Hilton.

Lan Jin, who was a smart man, gestured at Qin Guan and grimaced. Then he went out of the gallery, leaving the three of them alone.

"Take a seat. Make yourself at home!"

Cong Nianwei greeted Hilton, who was still deep in thought. Qin Guan picked up a newspaper to cover his embarrassment. A TV program? Great! The first episode of "America’s Next Top Model" will be airing this week?

Hilton’s daydream was crushed as she returned to reality.

"Okay, okay. Let’s talk about our plan..."

Cong Nianwei was smiling gently, but Qin Guan looked serious.

"This is the catalogue of the oil paintings we can provide you with, and the customized items for hotels and art centers."

Cong Nianwei took out a thick book and opened it before Hilton.

To some degree, Hilton was able to decide about the artwork placed in the hallways of the hotels, as well as in the VIP and presidential suites. This was because she loved fashion and art and had learned to appreciate art ever since she had been a child. She was very gifted in that field.

Although she had always been criticized for her private life, the rich heir was not as dumb and useless as outsiders imagined. When she talked about fashion and art, Hilton turned into a different person.

She read through the big, thick book carefully, learning about the painstaking efforts of the Chinese oil painters of the last generation.

Thanks to his director friends, Qin Guan had discovered a group of artists in the 798 district, whose dreams couldn’t be stopped by the ocean.

The painters were leading hard lives. Domestic galleries wouldn’t accept their work, but they still wouldn’t abandon their dreams.

They had to keep living, and they would rather live on their brushes than on manual labor. They created artwork for commercial use in order to make money to pursue their dreams. It was a win-win situation. Their hobby sustained them.

As a result, the painters living in the 798 district were no longer worried about making ends meet. Both oil painters and traditional painters had found a way out. They didn’t have to put up with art dealers from South Korea, who bought their precious work at low prices, or suffer through the sarcasm of gallery owners anymore.

They just wanted to make more money from their work. Cong Nianwei had provided them with an open international platform. Artists of different schools and styles had discovered a shortcut to success.

Hilton closed the catalogue, her face looking calm and serious.

"I’m really surprised to see you include all 15 schools of oil painting in your catalogue. And I’m shocked to see some really fierce work here."

"Our hotels tend to go for realistic and art nouveau oil paintings though. Of course, we also need some minimalistic paintings for the restrooms."

"As for the traditional Chinese paintings, I think they will go well with our Chinese style suites. I want the best ones though."

Watch your words. You’ll have to ask the Chinese for permission to get artwork by Zhang Daqian or Qi Baishi. You’ll get artwork by professors of the China Art Academy at best.

"What do you offer?" Cong Nianwei asked straightforwardly when she saw that Hilton was satisfied with the goods.

Hilton took a list out of her purse. It seemed that she was well-prepared.

Cong Nianwei was satisfied with the offer, but she still kept her poker face on.

"Large customized landscape paintings... 400 dollars... Minimalistic customized paintings... 150 dollars... Tens of hundreds of..."

"Are you planning on changing all the paintings in your hotels? Or is it time for an annual adjustment and redecoration?"

She didn’t even look up. Hilton was shocked by her questions. That cunning woman knows everything. Cong Nianwei seemed much taller to her now. Cong Nianwei smiled to herself.