"Mona... do you rember ’My Daughter Georgia’?"
"The colors you used were too vivid, and there were too many ornate decorations on the clothes, which is not a good thing."
"The limbs and body in the picture fail to connect naturally, like a bunch of blocks forcibly pieced together."
...
Those gentle voices echoed in Mona’s ears one by one.
She rembered how she once disdainfully dismissed Gu Weijing’s "childish" views, thinking he was overestimating his abilities by trying to challenge the artistic philosophy of a graduate student senior from the Royal Academy of Arts.
It turned out,
she herself was the joker.
Mona was in a daze, feeling her mind was in turmoil, her throat tightening, and she was sowhat short of breath.
How annoying.
They promised to part ways amicably and not get entangled with each other, so why does his shadow keep appearing in her life?
"Mona, what’s wrong? How about we go to the public studio for a bit and then grab dinner together tonight?"
Jerry had noticed Mona, pale in a corner of the classroom, and approached her.
"No, I want so peace. You go eat by yourself."
Mona said softly.
"You don’t look well. Should I get you a cup of coffee?" Jerry tily offered his "boyfriend energy" trying to be helpful.
"Never mind, Mr. Jerry, let be alone for a bit, okay?"
Usually, such behavior from Jerry would be well-received.
However, at the mont, Mona’s mind was in chaos. She only felt like he was buzzing around her like a fly, leaving her no peace.
"I’ll take you to see the school nurse..."
"Will you ever stop? I said I wanted to be alone. Mr. Jerry, is your comprehension lacking?"
Mona finally couldn’t hold it in any longer, turning her head sharply and shouting with so sharpness in her voice.
Jerry looked embarrassed and bewildered.
Once the words were out,
Mona realized her loss of composure, and shook her head: "Sorry, I’m just not in a good mood right now."
After saying so,
she ignored Jerry, grabbed her backpack from the side, swung her arms, and walked briskly out of the classroom.
"What’s going on? Did Professor Cruz criticize her?"
Jerry watched the girl’s departing figure with a puzzled expression.
...
Yangon’s Wealthy Area, West River Clubhouse.
Myanmar’s wealthiest city is Yangon, Yangon’s wealthiest area is West River.
If the water and power-short Leyada District is the hell of a city, then the West River District is the heaven of this city.
This is where the wealthiest in Myanmar are concentrated.
Luxury cars, fine wine, beautiful won, everything you could desire, splendor and grandeur.
As early as the 19th century, when European colonizers first set foot on East Asian soil, they compared the forr Old Royal Palace District by the Yangon River to the streets around the Louvre on the banks of the Seine River, calling it the "Little Paris of the East."
The West River Clubhouse, moreover, is situated at the heart of the entire affluent area.
Not far to the east is Kunsha’s mansion in Yangon. In 1996, this once top drug lord of the Golden Triangle decided to surrender to the Myanmar Governnt when his fortunes declined.
For the sake of peace in the North, the Myanmar Governnt didn’t even dare to extradite this drug lord to Interpol.
Once monopolizing 45% of the world’s drug trade, ruling over northern Myanmar, with a fortune that peaked at over a hundred billion US Dollars, roughly equal to the top ten drug lords combined in Colombia, this underworld villain spent the last eleven years of his life here.
According to Yangon’s gossip tabloids,
it was rumored that in his later years, Kunsha’s favorite thing was to sit on the balcony of his villa’s second floor, holding a Burse-made Elephant brand cigarette, while reading ’Romance of the Three Kingdoms,’ slowly watching the sun set over the resplendent roof of the West River Clubhouse, reflecting on life.
Shipping company executives, tennis stars, lead singers of the rock band Green Day...
Around the West River Clubhouse are nurous holiday properties owned by international celebrities in Yangon, like a small piece of amber, encapsulating Myanmar’s black-and-white upheavals and changing circumstances.
It has also changed hands several tis,
and now the owner of the West River Clubhouse is a mysterious wealthy rchant.
The Bald Man had just entered the clubhouse doors when a poised female manager in a tailored suit and with a black earpiece approached him.
"This way, please."
The female manager neither greeted Bald nor said sothing like welco.
She rely spoke into her earpiece and gestured for Bald to follow her.
"Brother Hao is entertaining guests in Juyaxuan; he asks that you head there directly." The female manager pressed sothing on the dark wall in the corridor, and a side door slid open, revealing a winding path.
To ensure guest privacy,
The West River Clubhouse had once hired the renowned Foster and Partners from London to redesign its internal structure, with a labyrinth of corridors dividing the private rooms into a checkerboard.
It would prevent any awkward encounters, such as a guest in a private room secretly eting with a turncoat official only to run into a political adversary dining there.
The downside, however, was that without guidance, it was easy for a person to get lost in these web-like corridors.
Of course, Bald wouldn’t get lost.
Years ago, Brother Hao had bought this clubhouse for 230 million US Dollars, and as his right-hand man handling underworld business, Bald was well acquainted with the place.
"...Brother Hao, I heard that there’s a special team from the judicial departnt investigating you, led by a high-ranking police officer from Yangon..."
Bald pushed open the door to Juyaxuan private room, where the air was filled with smoke.
A middle-aged man stood with his back to the gilded Buddha statue, holding three incense sticks softly curling smoke.
Brother Hao doesn’t like smoking, but he has three hobbies.
Loves paintings, loves old movies, and loves worshiping Buddha.
This Underworld Godfather of Myanmar seed more like a refined scholar than a street hero who pulls out knives and dictates life and death easily.
As for paintings, there’s no need to ntion; Brother Hao made his fortune through forging artworks.
His most cherished pieces include a high-priced original manuscript of the novel ’The Godfather’ and a long-focus lens of a 1970s Kodak Model 4037 cara, used in the 1972 classic film ’The Godfather,’ with director Francis Coppola’s autograph.
As for worshiping Buddha,
it’s a habit Brother Hao developed as he aged, even inviting two Theravada Buddhism monks from Thailand to preach for him.
Each ti Bald saw Brother Hao respectfully raising his hands and burning incense, he felt an indescribable sense of strangeness.
They in the underworld often worship the Martial Saint Guan.
Reciting Buddhist Scripture that emphasizes good and evil reincarnation and life-and-death retribution felt very... unconventional.
Of course, he dared not mock him; even with borrowed courage, he wouldn’t dare.
Bald knew that all those in Myanmar who dared to mock Brother Hao were long dead.
Standing behind the door, Bald just glanced at Brother Hao’s back as he burned incense, and his gaze fell on the guests being entertained in Juyaxuan.
It was a man in a police uniform.
He knew this fellow,
transferred to Yangon as a deputy police officer from Mandalay, in his early forties, with a father who seed to be a military brigade commander — the son of a well-backed official family, perhaps a precinct chief or deputy chief himself.
Outside, he indeed would have been considered a connected and impressive figure.
Yet in front of Brother Hao, he obediently reported work like a little assistant.
The Myanmar officialdom wasn’t entirely bought out by Brother Hao; there always were a few reckless ones trying to touch him.
But often, the details of the plans were leaked by those trying to curry favor with Brother Hao, just like this ti, before they even got started, sealing their fate.
Bald listened for a mont before considering to leave the private room temporarily, avoiding such confidential discussions.
"Stay, we’re all brothers here, nothing to avoid. Anything to report?" Brother Hao casually waved his hand, indicating no need to leave.
"It’s not much, really; it’s just that Gu Weijing you took a liking to. He’s being rather stubborn, immune to pressure or persuasion."
Bald scratched his head, revealing a rather ferocious smile.
"Usually, such matters wouldn’t bother you, Brother Hao, but you seem quite fond of him."
"So I wanted to ask if, since he’s refusing to accept a toast, should we follow the usual practice and break an arm, or perhaps kidnap his cousin to teach the young man a lesson?"
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