"I'll change the bid." He showed a friendly smile, "It's 750 pounds, 4 shillings and 10 pence."
Fan Ning also showed a friendly smile and gently placed five bundles of canvases on the road.
"Originally, considering that the conversation was quite productive, I thought about it and let it go, but now I feel--"
He took a few steps back, trotted, boosted, jumped up, and lifted his legs.
"Fuck you!" An afterimage flashed across the dark night, and Fan Ning's soles kicked hard on the trunk shell of the car!
There was a muffled "bang" sound, and the car that had already rushed halfway out and turned into a seesaw finally fell off the bridge together with Benjamin in the driver's seat!
"Plop--" The front of the car fell down, falling into darkness, and water splashed.
Fan Ning clapped his hands, lowered his head and bent over, picking up the scroll on the ground.
With the two girls covering their mouths in surprise, they walked towards their big, bumpy car without looking back.
"Stop looking, get in the car, go home, and go to bed."
…
Next Monday, July 28th at 6pm.
It is already the normal time for employees in media industries such as newspapers and radio stations to get off work, but at this moment, art media of all sizes, centered on the imperial capital of Santa Ramburg, are preparing to prepare.
They were waiting for the telegram to be reprinted in the headlines of the leading imperial cultural critic, the "Tioline Cultural Weekly".
According to the established habits of previous years, the Summer Arts Festival concerts will officially go on sale on August 1, and before that, the updated issue of "Tioline Cultural Weekly" will exclusively announce the detailed information of each concert.
They need to use this as a reference to write articles for their own media for follow-up reporting.
Not only front-line media such as "Hoffmann's Gramophone" are waiting, but media from niche or special status are also eager to try. For example, in the office of "Hustle" at the moment, editor-in-chief Macaulay, wearing a jacket and slicked back hair, is shaking his hands
He sat with his arms folded and stared at the telegraph machine in trance.
The newspaper specializes in fabricating and digging up tidbits in the music industry, as well as "in-depth reporting" on failed music activities, music works and musicians.
In fact, editor-in-chief Macaulay still has a certain level of appreciation, but his extremely sharp sarcastic words and pervasive access to gossip have caused many artists to keep silent about him and avoid it whenever they can.
Many readers like this style, so "Hustle" still firmly occupies the position of a second-tier art review media despite the lack of truly professional commentators.
At six-thirty, the telegram came out of the machine. Macaulay couldn't wait to take it and read it. As he read, his eyes stopped on a certain line, and he shook his head a few more times as if in disbelief.
"The overall price of the Santa Lenia Symphony Orchestra concert in each area is three times that of previous years, and the exclusive ticket price is actually set at 18 pounds?... Good guy, are you planning to charge according to the standards of a first-tier professional orchestra? Don Yetus
Isn’t this guy too restrained in his reporting? Even like this, he doesn’t add any personal comments?” Macaulay said to himself excitedly.
After checking out the Royal Academy of Music, which was only 13 pounds, and confirming that the prices for other symphony concerts were the same as in previous years, his eyes lit up and he suddenly came up with a brilliant idea.
Do a report on predicting the box office rankings of the 913 Summer Arts Festival! Be fast! News must be timely!
Extracting information, formulating wording, drafting, proofreading, typesetting, printing, all in one go, the Santa Lenia Symphony Orchestra predicted the result to be the last one, and attached the following message: "Let's wait and see how the students of this school will enter first-line careers through the premiere of new works."
Sarcastic encouragement.
By around nine o'clock in the evening, almost a dozen media outlets, large and small, had finalized and sent out reports with different forms and emphasis, trying their best to highlight this highlight of the year. The only difference may only be reflected in the weight of the wording.
After going home and going to bed, Macaulay woke up the next day, stretched out on the soft bed, and turned on the radio next to him.
Beep beep... beep beep...
Santa Ramburg Daily Morning Radio...Hoffman Records Publishing Company, takes you to listen to a little music before going out in the morning...
Amidst the slight background noise and burrs, the string section rippled with melancholy broken chords, and a noble and sentimental violin melody sounded in the living room.
Macaulay only felt that the opening music was so beautiful that his hair stood on end.
Gardens, roses, poetry, melancholy, elegance... all kinds of words poured into his mind like beans, but for a while he couldn't even form any sentences.
Until the music suddenly faded away after a minute.
"Then what!? I can't hear you clearly!" Macaulay grabbed the radio and put it to his ear.
"Ah, I'm going to die. Did the person who recorded it have a problem? Why did the sound suddenly become smaller?" He began to scratch his scalp anxiously.
In the last half minute of the radio broadcast, a sweet female voice rang in my ears, and slowly broadcast two paragraphs with the background music being muted:
"The "Violin Concerto in E minor" by young composer Carolyn Van Ning will be premiered at the Santa Lenia Symphony Orchestra concert at the Summer Arts Festival at 8 pm on August 21, conducted by the composer himself.
"
"The recording will be pre-sold on site in the lobby after the performance. You can enjoy a 20% discount with your VIP ticket stub and come with autographs from both the composer and the violinist. Please pay attention to the ticketing information for event details."
－－－－－－Digression－－－－－
Chapter completed!