narrow red

Wanrong Zhenhui has finally emerged from a crowd of mediocre second-tier private banks. Although it has not yet completed a real art transaction in the open market, it has become a bank with G&S in terms of business and brand recognition. Private Banking Department, Durban Career China, and Hong Kong Fu Rong are the fourth largest private banks.

In the evening rush hour, Duan Zhao took Wang Youcheng and Qin Kusheng to drive to Sujiade's art center in the old city. They were greeted by Pink Chicken's auctioneer, surnamed Liu, a plump woman with black wavy hair and deep V-neck knitting She wore a solid-color woolen shawl around her shirt, and a full-headed emerald pod was exposed on her chest.

"Mr. Duan," she threw the auction catalog on the coffee table, and pointed to the Omega on her left wrist, "The auction will start at [-] o'clock tomorrow night. If you haven't given me the reserve price for the pink chicken yet, my phone will be off the hook." All right!"

Duan Zhao glanced at the pink chicken on the front page of the catalog, and smiled apologetically: "It's the same here, Mr. Liu." He turned his head and gave Wang Youcheng a wink, "Everyone in the circle is staring at it, we have to be careful."

Wang Youcheng took out a piece of paper folded in half from the inner pocket of his suit, put it on the tea table, and pushed it in front of her.

Mr. Liu glanced at it, but didn't reach out: "We arranged the pink chicken at the end of the night auction, so we paid enough attention to it, the first page of the auction catalog, the best position, the full layout, and confiscated yours for a penny, right?"

Because the pink chicken is red enough, Duan Zhao nodded with a smile: "It's a good thing, I'm not afraid to whet my appetite."

Teacher Liu raised her eyebrows, she also has a temper: "You guys are so procrastinating, why don't you switch to online shooting."

"Online auctions will be opened, and telephone bidding channels will also be opened," Duan Zhao said, with a very sophisticated tone, "but pink chickens must go to the trading hall, and this is the atmosphere that the auction plays."

Atmosphere is the essence of an auction house, and a good auctioneer is a master of atmosphere. Only a dramatic atmosphere can create miracles and push up the price of the lot continuously and further.

As soon as Teacher Liu heard this, he knew that he was an expert, so he stopped playing around in circles: "You guys do it like this," she hung her face, still not touching the piece of paper, "Don't blame me if you can't get the price."

"Just kidding!" Duan Zhao leaned forward, with a young and delicate face, and the demeanor of a rich man, "You are Sujiade's first hammer, how could you not be able to bid for the price!"

Teacher Liu stroked her hair and smiled, feeling very comfortable being praised by him: "Okay," she glanced at the gang of savvy private bankers, opened the note, saw the number on it, and was taken aback, "Just kidding... Mr. Duan?"

Duan Zhao leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

"70?" Mr. Liu controlled the volume, and slapped the paper back on the table, "Your asking price is 70 for such a high-profile celebrity auction? RMB?"

Duan Zhao sat upright and became serious: "This is the first pink chicken on the market," he clarified Wanrong Zhenhui's appeal, "We care more about the recoil of the auction than the money."

Recoil?Teacher Liu frowned.

"After all, he is a cutting-edge painter with a weak foundation, so the price is considered moderate."

"The range given by our appraiser is 280 million to 320 million," Mr. Liu said, "It is estimated that the hammer will be around 700 million."

Duan Zhao smiled: "The same transaction is 700 million yuan. Which one do you think is more 'dramatic'?"

Of course it's 70, and people nowadays like to drop wires and counterattacks.

"The pink chicken is different from other paintings. It not only screams loudly in the circle, but it is well known to everyone in the hot search wheel these few times." More bidders come to accompany the run, this popularity is the market's response to the demand for pink chickens."

Teacher Liu understood a little bit, and picked up the piece of paper again.

"70 to 700 million, a full ten times," Duan Zhao said with a half-smile, "Whether it's an achievement for a painter or an auctioneer, it's an achievement worth bragging about."

Teacher Liu's eyes changed slightly. She was just a bidder. Although she had sold hundreds of millions of calligraphy and painting, real estate, and debts, she still seemed too tender in the face of the big hands of capital.

"This is the recoil we want," Duan Zhao said bluntly, "The future market will not be small for works that are sold ten times at the first auction, and Pink Chicken will become the darling of art investment circles."

Teacher Liu said nothing more, slowly took the piece of paper into the palm of his hand, and nodded.

Duan Zhao led Wang Youcheng and Tan Kusheng out of the art center. It was less than nine o'clock, the street was full of lively lights, pedestrians flocked continuously, and the night breeze was gentle, it was very suitable for a drink.

"Huh—" Tan bitterly let out a long breath.

Duan Zhao looked at him: "What's wrong?"

Tan bitterly looked back at the gate of Sujiade Art Center, so imposing and unattainable: "It's like a dream..."

Duan Zhao laughed loudly, and patted him on the shoulder: "From now on, you have to come to this place often..."

He was going down the steps, and accidentally stepped on a void, but fortunately Wang Youcheng reached out and hugged him: "Hey, watch!"

Duan Zhao barely stood still, his face was a little uneasy, he pushed him away with his backhand, and stretched his suit in embarrassment.

Back at the car, the AMG unlocked automatically, and Tan Kusheng opened the door and got in.

Wang Youcheng went around to the co-driver and got in the car, "Hey," Duan Zhao called to stop him, "It's still early, can you buy a Baifu 12 years?"

Not a very decent invitation, thank him for his help just now.

Wang Youcheng turned his head from the bright night, the spring breeze blew up and messed up his hair, staring at Duan Zhao's blurred figure in the backlight, he was startled, then shook his head: "No, thank you."

Duan Zhao shrugged indifferently, took out his mobile phone and sent a WeChat message to Kuang Zheng: Boss, it's done.

Kuangzheng received the message and simply replied: OK.

It was five minutes to nine o'clock, Ruyizhou broke up, the doors of the luxury cars side by side with the Panamera opened one after another, the assistants walked quickly to the front of the building, and the bosses came out in small groups, chatting about tonight's drama, that small open space It suddenly became very lively, and as they drove away one after another, the theater slowly returned to calm.

Half an hour later, Baochan appeared, wearing a small sea blue suit, as sultry as the spring breeze, Kuangzheng immediately got out of the car and opened the door for him, taking the opportunity of brushing his body, he gave him a hug by the waist: "Let me Wait a minute, Boss Bao."

It was the first time that he was called that by his elder brother, and Baozhan raised the corners of his eyes, perhaps with the soul of the people in the play, this look was full of energy, like a needle with red thread, ruthlessly, pierced into it. Correct your heart.

Kuangzheng's throat was tight, and he went around to get into the car. In the closed space, he cleared his throat, and moved his hand that should have been holding the gear lever to the right, and put it on Baochan's hand: "Tomorrow night, the pink chicken will shoot ,come here?"

"Well," Baochan turned his wrist and held him back, "give the address to Xiaohao."

Just holding hands, Kuangzheng's heart seemed to jump out of his chest. Probably this car, this night, brought him back to the time when he first fell in love with Baochan: "I always wanted to change cars," he chuckled, "I never Willing to change."

"Huh?" Bao Chan replied lazily, leaning on the back of the chair.

"In this car," Kuang Zheng held the steering wheel and rubbed it lightly, "there are too many of our memories."

Baochan tightened his hand suddenly.

The dome light was off, and with the dim light outside the window, looking straight at his half-dark face, it was still so moving, but the familiar facial features seemed to be different: "Your eyebrows..."

Baochan covered it with his hand, and complained a little: "You just found out."

Kuang Zheng hurriedly leaned over and rubbed the spot with his thumb: "Pull it out?"

"It was pulled out for a photo," Baochan said in a low voice, as if complaining, "It hurts."

"I said," Kuang Zheng's voice lowered, "Lately, I've always felt affectionate."

Baochan laughed: "Nonsense..."

They were very close, their eyes were entangled, their lips were only a few centimeters away, Kuangzheng slowly scratched his brow bone and did not speak, after a while, Baochan himself cast his eyes on his lips, and the next second, that mouth bullied Come up, with a hot temperature and a little smell of smoke, and kiss him wetly.

"Hmm..." Baochan panted with his movements, closed his eyes, opened his mouth completely, handed over his tongue and soul, and let him ravage him.

Kuang Zheng unbuckled his seat belt, put his big hands into his suit, the lining was smooth and warm, and there was a small bulge under the thin shirt, which had already (beep).

He is familiar with the road (a sentence is omitted here).

"Ah..." Baochan couldn't help being excited, raised his hand to grab his shoulders, touched his neck along the shoulder line, then his ears, and the short lock of hair behind his ears, fluffy between his fingers, He scratched it itchyly, "Brother, brother..."

Suddenly there was a bang, and the whole body shook. Kuang Zheng immediately let go of the cover, looked up at the front windshield, and saw that the entire glass was covered with cobweb-like cracks, and the blue public trash can was sliding down from the hood , under the turned on headlights, was Shi Kuoting's furious face.

Baochan was dumbfounded, and stared blankly at him. Shi Kuoting rushed over to open the co-pilot's door with a vicious look, but the central control was off. Kuangzheng immediately shifted to R gear, kicked the accelerator and reversed.

Shi Kuoting caught up and smashed Baochan's glass with fists, and Baochan could see the shock and distress in his eyes: "Brother..."

He saw that the shameless indulgence between himself and Kuangzheng, even though he had passed the hurdle in his heart, was just a kiss hidden in the dark, but in front of the theater, in this way, he was smashed by his closest relatives. Blossom was still shaking with shame.

He subconsciously wiped his mouth, his palms were wet, it was his and Kuangzheng's saliva, his mind went blank, and he only heard a vague shout from outside: "Kangzheng, I'll kill you—!"

They backed out from the side street and drove onto the main road with their tails turned, facing a piece of shattered glass, their eyes were full of scattered night scenes, and no one spoke. Suddenly, Baochan's phone rang.

It took him a while to take out his phone, and it turned out to be Shi Kuoting, staring at the familiar word "Senior Brother" on the screen, Bao Chan was in a state of confusion, at this moment Kuang Zheng took the phone and pressed the call button.

"Baochan!" Shi Kuoting's voice was clear even without hands-free, "Are you okay, I'll pick you up right away!"

"Kuoting." Kuang Zheng's voice was low.

The phone was silent for a few seconds: "I'll fuck your mother!"

Kuang Zheng didn't speak.

"You bastard, a beast in clothes! I trust you so much, Baochan trusts you so much!"

Kuang Zheng understood his feelings and did not refute.

"Baochan has lived with you for so long, what have you taught him!" Shi Kuoting gritted his teeth and asked, "He is so focused on singing that he hasn't even had a girlfriend. You taught him this? Are you a human being! "

Kuang Zheng remained silent.

"Do you still remember that in your company?" Shi Kuoting roared, "You pretended to tell me that you would never cheat me or cheat me in your life!"

That time, when Zhang Rong got divorced, the stock of Zhengcai fell, and Kuangzheng was strangled by this kid. He remembered: "I didn't cheat him."

"Aren't you tricking him!" Shi Kuoting was furious, but no matter how fierce he was, no matter how loud his voice was, he also knew that Bao Chan did it voluntarily.He saw that Kuang Zheng was leaning over the co-pilot, and the hand touching his ear was wearing a conspicuous Vacheron Constantin.

"We love each other." Kuang Zheng made the final decision.

Shi Kuoting was silent.

"The day after tomorrow," Kuangzheng assured him, "I'll go find you, let's have a good talk..."

"I won't talk to you!" Shi Kuoting seemed to be afraid, "You send Bao Chan back to me!"

"I swear," Kuang Zheng knew what he was afraid of, "nothing happened, and it won't happen tonight or tomorrow night. Calm down, I will definitely explain to you."