Chapter 34: Mendeleev’s Epiphany (Part II)

"I have actually been watching you since I was very, very young!"

"I once aspired to become a painter, just like you..."

"In your paintings, I once felt your loneliness... It was a desolation like a barren desert. You seemed to be running, but it was an endless, aimless journey..."

"I also saw sinking spirits in your work. Take 'Spring,' for instance; you hoped to express romance, but it always revealed a sense of decline..."

"Even more, I saw perfunctoriness in your paintings. Starting from 'Street Lamp,' every piece of yours feels like it was just phoned in!"

"...Now, every painting of yours makes me feel you are putting in less and less effort, as if they were works dashed off in a matter of minutes!"

"Many people think you are satirizing reality, but I don't see it that way... I think you are numb, sinking deeper and deeper into apathy..."

"Mr. Mendeleev, what has happened to you? I thought the person you once were pursued the absolute, but now, are you truly satisfied with the status quo?"

In a small tavern on the outskirts of Yanjing.

Zhang Yang drank glass after glass.

His face was slightly flushed, looking remarkably like someone mourning the loss of a great spirit.

He stared at Mendeleev, challenging this bearded artist.

Mendeleev sat nearby. For some reason, facing this young man—a generation his junior, someone who could have been his grandson—he felt an overwhelming sense of shame.

Every word from this young man felt like a blade piercing his chest.

It made him sober, yet it was difficult for his pride to endure...

Although what this person said was painfully accurate, acting as a sudden awakening for him—he hadn't heard such words in a very long time, not since the passing of the older generation of renowned painters.

However, this person was just too young!

In fact, if the young man before him had been an old man of seventy or eighty, a painter of the same stature, he probably wouldn't have had such complicated emotions.

But...

He was a young man, probably in his twenties—certainly no older than twenty-five!

"I... you don't know what I've been through..."

"No, I do. Your soul, like your heart, is being corrupted by capitalism!"

"..."

Mendeleev fell silent.

The young man's presence was too overwhelming; he had subconsciously allowed himself to be suppressed by him.

He wanted to say something to defend himself, but he truly couldn't find the words.

"I know you think I'm very young, that I'm not worthy of saying these things to you. But if you think I'm unworthy, why did you follow me out?"

"..."

Mendeleev looked up instinctively.

He stared at Zhang Yang.

He saw that the young man's eyes were profound, as if they could see right through the human heart.

His every word seemed to drag out the very things he had kept buried.

Such a person...

He did not seem like someone of this age!

Absolutely not!

"Mr. Mendeleev, I've said what I needed to say, and I feel much better for it. From here on out, it doesn't matter to me what you think or how you scold me..."

Zhang Yang shook his head.

What is art, anyway?

Art is the pursuit of something to its absolute limit...

That is art!

Artists are, by nature, quite paranoid—possessing a paranoid personality.

Painters are no different...

Looking at the first half of Mendeleev's life, he had taken satirical art to the extreme.

In Zhang Yang's view, such a person is inherently obsessive and would never change.

However, human nature has another side, one that is easily tainted by society.

Even if it were something they once detested, if it could bring them the fame and fortune they desired, they would gradually be corrupted...

That is human nature!

And in truth, once you have everything you could want, how many would hold their ground?

The things you paint seriously are praised, and the things you paint without care are also praised. As generations of artists pass on, you become one of the towering figures...

Under the operation of capital, everyone looks at you with eyes that say only one thing: "Legendary."

In that state, you, too, will sink...

This, too, is human nature!

Of course, occasionally you might miss the people of that bygone era, miss the like-minded souls...

But they are long gone...

And then, deep in your heart, you feel the loneliness.

That is also human nature.

Zhang Yang felt he had grasped the essence of human nature!

He felt he could handle Mendeleev.

"Mr. Zhang... although I hate to admit it, and it even feels painful, I find myself being lectured by a kid like you..."

"But, I was indeed wrong... Thank you!"

In the tavern.

Mendeleev held his silence for a long time, finally let out a low sigh, and then raised a glass to toast Zhang Yang.

………………………………

Mustang Networks.

With eight hours left until the launch of *Smack the Alpaca*!

Shen Yi and Liu Ruohan were looking at the data for *Smack the Alpaca*.

They saw that the pre-orders for the game had already exceeded thirty thousand!

Liu Ruohan finally let out a sigh and furrowed her brows adorably.

"Uncle Shen, is an offer of one million a year enough to poach him?"

"It should be. Not many in this industry can offer such a price. However, Ruohan, are you sure you don't want to discuss this with President Liu?"

"Father is currently dealing with challenges from other companies and certainly won't care about this. Besides, based on my observations, there are indeed problems within our internal operations at Mustang... I will take full responsibility for this. If Father gets upset, just tell him it was my decision!"

"Very well."

"Talented people must not become our rivals, much less our enemies. We cannot underestimate anyone..." Liu Ruohan adjusted her glasses, her pure and stunning face filled with seriousness.

"Alright, then should I contact him now? Before his new game is released?"

"Yes... If possible, we could even acquire his game at a high price; it would certainly be more profitable than him launching it himself..."

"Agreed!"

Under the cover of night, Shen Yi made a serious phone call to Zhang Yang.

The call connected.

There seemed to be some noise...

The sound was intermittent, but it seemed he was in a bar or tavern.

Later, whether due to signal issues or something else, after mentioning the name of the small tavern, Zhang Yang hung up the phone.

"He's drinking at a small tavern nearby. I've been there. It seems he's not in a very good mood right now. How about I take the contract and go see him?"

"Yes, that's fine. Uncle Shen, how about I wear a hat and mask and go with you?"

"Yes, that's fine."

Shen Yi and Liu Ruohan left the company with the contract.

Half an hour later...

When they walked into the tavern and saw two people drinking in the corner...

"Is that... Mendeleev?"

Shen Yi's jaw dropped.

"..."

Liu Ruohan took off her glasses in disbelief and wiped them, thinking for a moment that her glasses were malfunctioning, projecting a hallucination...

But...

When she put them back on and saw clearly...

She was stunned.