Chapter 64: Surrealism

The meeting ended.

In light of the contribution Ethan had made, he would receive a ten percent increase in his profits for the following month.

Moreover, upon the conclusion of the meeting, John Holte did something unprecedented by inviting Ethan to a social reception.

This drew sideways glances of astonishment from the members of the other major families.

For in the unwritten rules of the underworld, no matter how wealthy or powerful one might be, exposing oneself to the light of day was exceedingly difficult.

Even a figure like Sandro, despite his close ties to the political and legal spheres, rarely appeared in highly formal settings.

After all, those who had walked through the black mire, no matter how thoroughly they wiped their footprints, always carried a lingering scent of decay about them.

Ethan, however, understood that this was the very influence of Porpoise.

This made him attach even greater importance to his upcoming meeting with Porpoise today.

Two o'clock in the afternoon.

The snow had abated somewhat.

Porpoise arrived right on schedule.

Accompanying Porpoise were a large number of newspaper reporters.

Since yesterday, they had caught wind of a piece of news: Master Porpoise had taken a great fancy to a student from the Winster University College of Arts and was even going to pay him a personal visit.

This had left them itching with curiosity, causing them to keep vigil outside the hotel where Porpoise was staying from the early hours, all for the sake of capturing this dramatic scene in preparation for the next day's front-page headlines.

Yet when they actually arrived at their destination, they could not help but stare at one another in blank dismay.

Was this not the estate of the Poletta family?

Reporters were the eyes of a city; they knew the city's true background and secrets far too well.

What kind of existence the Poletta family was, they understood better than anyone.

Could it be that the student Master Porpoise favored so greatly was actually Ethan Poletta?

After snapping a flurry of frantic photographs of the Poletta estate, they witnessed Ethan stepping outside to warmly welcome Porpoise. The moment he shook hands with Porpoise was duly recorded.

It seemed... it truly was him.

"Ethan, quickly, tell me how you painted that piece yesterday. What was your creative train of thought?"

As soon as they met, even before exchanging formal greetings, Porpoise could hardly contain his impatience.

He seemed brimming with artistic passion.

Ethan, however, first ushered him into the warmly heated room, and only after they were seated on the sofa did he begin to speak.

"This really has to start with a dream I had..."

Before Porpoise's arrival, Ethan had already anticipated what questions he might be asked.

As for that painting, the topics it naturally touched upon were creative concepts and a series of related answers.

Ethan wrung his memory for everything related to Dalí and his creative philosophies, combined with his predecessor's art theories and Porpoise's whimsical school of thought, and finally pieced together a somewhat refined version of Surrealism.

As Porpoise listened, a brilliant light flashed repeatedly in his eyes, and he nodded continuously.

At last, he could not help but set down the coffee cup in his hand, grab Ethan's hand, and say with great excitement, "Ethan, you are an absolute genius!"

This scene was naturally captured by the reporters lying in ambush outside.

As for why these reporters were able to come inside to take pictures, it was probably because the gates of the Poletta estate had not been properly latched.

"Ethan, I came here today originally intending to take you on as my student, but now it seems I am not qualified to be your teacher. This theory of yours is beyond imagination—dreams, the subconscious, these are realms we have never considered. It is simply... too marvelous!"

As Porpoise spoke, he actually stood up and began to dance by himself in the living room, completely oblivious to his surroundings.

He was utterly intoxicated.

Suddenly, Ethan sensed some profound, highly rhythmic, and unfathomable power emanating from him.

This master seemed far from simple.

Yet it was merely for a fleeting second; very soon, that rhythm vanished entirely.

Porpoise sat back down on the sofa and looked at Ethan: "I actually want to become your student. Your theory has been immensely inspiring to me, Ethan. What is it called?"

"Uh... Surrealism." Ethan thought for a moment, then self-consciously rubbed his eyebrows.

"Surrealism. Very fitting," Porpoise nodded. "May I share this theory with my friends?"

"Of course."

Ethan welcomed it eagerly.

This was a harvest that exceeded his expectations. If his refined version of Surrealism could make a name for itself in the art world, his own status would rise along with it.

Furthermore, how could Porpoise's friends possibly be ordinary acquaintances? Every single one of them was a titan of art.

"Splendid, splendid! Ethan, I truly do not know how to repay you."

Porpoise was indeed a man of genuine sentiment; he embraced Ethan with uninhibited warmth.

This scene was naturally recorded by the reporters outside as well.

"The core of art is sharing, is it not? How can there be any talk of repayment?" Ethan smiled and returned the embrace.

"The core of art is sharing. Oh, Ethan, you truly are a fountain of brilliant quotes."

Porpoise laughed heartily and stood up.

"You continually take me by surprise. It is a pity I cannot take you on as a student. For that reason, I intend to give you a gift."

"Do not refuse me; this is what you deserve."

Before Ethan could open his mouth, Porpoise cut him off.

What could the gift of a top-tier art master possibly be?

Porpoise was a man utterly incapable of sitting still; having said this, he was already prepared to leave.

Yet after taking two steps, as if remembering something, he turned his head back: "Oh, that's right, Ethan, remember to finish that piece of work as soon as possible and mail it to me. No matter where I am, I will surely make your name known throughout the world."

Having said this, he truly departed.

The reporters immediately followed him, attempting to interview him.

Under normal circumstances, he would have flatly refused, but this time, he accepted.

He walked to the gates of the Poletta estate and began to recount this meeting.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I must tell you something: I envy you. I envy the city of Winster, because you are actually able to live day in and day out with a genius like Ethan, witnessing his daily growth, breathing in his artistic nourishment—how I envy you!"

"A bright star is rising into the heavens!"

He delivered the final sentence in a declamatory tone, after which he got into his car and drove away.

Ethan and Anya stood in the snow-white courtyard, watching the reporters scurry about like a flock of ducks.

"Young master, are you going to be famous?"

"Whether I am famous or not is secondary. The important thing is that I have already secured my entry pass."

Once tomorrow's newspapers were published, he would have Porpoise's endorsement, securing his foothold within the artistic circles.

In a cultural barren wasteland like Winster, he practically had no rivals left.

This, in truth, was the finest gift Porpoise could have given him.