My Waste Husband

Chapter 35

Soon, a middle-aged man in a suit ran over. Obviously, this middle-aged man knew Dan.

"Hello, President Fong. I'm the person in charge of this exhibition, Andy Zhang." Andy took the initiative to reach out his hand to Dan.

"Hello, I want to ask if this painting is authentic or a high imitation?" Dan pointed at the winter plum in front of him. In the painting, there was only one plum, which fell alone in the drawing paper, giving people a lonely and arrogant feeling.

"It's authentic." Andy answered without thinking, "This winter plum is the present of Master Yan of the Tang Dynasty. It has been passed down to today. We only showed it after we got the official identification result. It's indeed authentic. Mr. Fong, if you are interested, there will be a charity auction for this painting later."

" Authentic work?" Dan frowned.

Just then, a crisp voice sounded behind him. Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

"President Fong."

Dan followed the voice and said, "President Lin, what a coincidence. Are you here for an exhibition?"

When Dan spoke, he deliberately looked at Sylvia's formal suit.

"Let's talk about cooperation with President Fong." Sylvia stood in front of him and said directly.

Dan chuckled and said, "President Lin, I shouldn't talk about work at this time, but since your grandfather has done me a favor, I will make an exception. To be honest, your cooperation plan is not the best for everyone. You should understand that I am a businessman and I care about

interests, not feelings. Unless you can come up with a better cooperation plan, I think we will cooperate next time."

Sylvia frowned. "President Fong, I believe you know the situation of our Lins Group. Although this plan will not bring you the biggest profit in a short time, in the long run..."

"Stop."Dan made a gesture. "President Lin, you know, I invested in short-term investment. I never see long-term interests."

"President Fong, I..." Sylvia was about to say something when she felt someone behind her pulling her. When she looked back, she saw her best friend, Milan, and Henry, who was beside her, also ran over.

"President Fong, let's talk later." Sylvia hurriedly said goodbye to Dan, then walked to Henry and whispered, "Why are you here?"

"I called him here. I say, Sylvia, you know that this Dan likes Chinese paintings, and your husband specializes in this aspect. Why don't you do what you like?"

"I!" Sylvia wanted to say something but stopped on second thought. She looked at Henry and then looked at Milan. She didn't know how to explain it. She couldn't tell Milan the truth, could she?

"Well, I think we should let Henry go to negotiate with Dan first. If he can talk with Dan, you can do whatever you want," Milan persuaded.

Sylvia subconsciously looked at Henry, only to see him walking toward Dan. Sylvia sighed. Henry knew nothing about painting. She knew clearly there was no use of him.

Henry walked to Dan, narrowed his eyes, and looked at the picture in front of him. "The winter plum of Master Yan of the Tang Dynasty? The ink color is a little light."

"Do you understand the paintings?" Dan heard Henry's voice and looked at it in surprise. In this exhibition, many famous paintings did not show their origins. Those who could tell the origin of the paintings at a glance were all people who knew how to draw.

"Of course he understands, haha!" A laugh rang out, not from Henry, but from another person.

Ben Song strode over and said loudly while walking, "President Fong, Mr. Zhang is President Lin's husband and an artist. He specializes in Chinese painting. I think you two would have a lot in common."

After he said that, there was a hint of a smile in his eyes. An artist? He was really good at boasting. If it weren't for Mr. Wong telling me, I really didn't know that this was a son-in-law for money!

"Oh?" Dan looked at Henry with great interest, with appreciation in his eyes, because there were fewer and fewer people who were still keen on traditional Chinese paintings. "Mr. Zhang, are you familiar with Chinese paintings?"

"A little bit." Henry smiled and nodded.

"In that case, Mr. Zhang, can you see that this painting is Master Yan's authentic work?" Dan pointed at the painting in front of him and asked.

Henry glanced at the painting in front of him and then said, "Mr. Fong, what do you want to hear? Truth or lie? Hahaha"

Henry laughed and turned to leave, leaving such an ambiguous answer.

Looking at Henry's performance, Sylvia shook her head helplessly and did not blame Henry. Chinese painting itself was broad and profound, unlike western-style etiquette. It needed more than only simple training to understand. It depended on years of experience and rich knowledge.

Milan was also shocked. "What's going on? Doesn't he understand? It shouldn't be!"

During this period, Milan had been thinking about how to expose Henry, the love liar. But today, she hoped that this liar could understand more and talk to Mr. Fong because she knew how big a crisis Lins company was facing now. There were both internal troubles and external troubles.

Looking at Henry's back, Dan frowned and said nothing.

"President Fong, it seems that Mr. Zhang is just a liar. In other words, Sylvia is too commercial, so it's normal for her to create something. For example, she told me that Mr. Zhang was a national artist." Ben came to Dan and said, "Mr. Fong, let me introduce myself. I'm Ben Song. I'm entrusted by someone to let Mr. Fong see the true face of some people. Don't be confused by the descendants of our benefactor."

In the lounge of the exhibition, Henry was holding a cup of iced cola and sitting in front of a small round table.

Milan and Sylvia sat opposite him.

"Henry, didn't you draw a national painting? Do you understand it? Is it authentic?" Seeing that Henry was still in the mood to drink cola, Milan was very anxious.

As for Sylvia, she seemed very calm because she clearly knew that Zhang Xufeng did not understand traditional Chinese painting. If her plan was not chosen by Dan, this cooperation would be impossible.

"Ah!"

After a big mouthful of iced cola, Henry said, "That painting, how should I say? It's an authentic one, but not a real one."

"What do you mean?" Milan asked.

"You won't understand even if I say it." Henry picked up the coke and took a big sip. Seeing that Milan was anxious again, he quickly said, "By the way, there is a charity auction later, right? Let's go and have a look together."

Henry had attended the charity auction many times before, so he was familiar with it.