Cen Yemeng frowned slightly, lost in thought.
"Art is a completely different path, and perhaps it will also be his life's meaning. Not everyone can find their talent; most people's talents lie buried for decades, and their lives pass by. In this regard, Forest is very fortunate," Jiang Ye said. "The forest is still young now, and I don't know what he will think in the future. If he's not interested in governing planets, it would be great for him to paint his whole life. Even if he has a strong desire for power and wants to take over my business, he might not have the talent for it. When he hits a wall in politics, he can always turn his head and go paint freely, so he won't fall into despair."
"How could he hit a wall? He has you to teach and help him," Cen Yemeng asked. "He's the crown prince; wouldn't the Emperor cultivate him well?"
"Perhaps he'll raise a Song Huizong? The future is unpredictable," Jiang Ye shook his head. "The succession must be inherited by a reliable person; primogeniture doesn't work in our family. If none of the children we have can take on great responsibility, I'll hold onto power and never let go, since I can live forever."
Cen Yemeng scratched his head. "But... Forest is so young to be famous, won't that have many negative consequences?"
"You've hit the nail on the head," Jiang Ye said. "This is where our skill as parents will be tested."
"I will definitely teach him well, but I really don't know what kind of person he'll become. After all, I'm a first-time mother too," Cen Yemeng bit her lip.
"Before he can understand reason, try to keep him separate from public opinion," Jiang Ye said. "If he really becomes famous, don't let him see his photos in newspapers or online. At most, if he paints a good picture, reward him with toys, good food, books, or travel, and praise him verbally. I am the commander, and you are the planetary governor; we can handle this small matter. At worst, I can issue an order prohibiting all newspapers, television, and the internet on Jiang Ye Planet from discussing the painter Jiang Senlin."
"Alright, you've convinced me," Cen Yemeng smiled. "We can't even start an argument."
"What's the point of arguing? True couples still bicker," Jiang Ye leaned his face closer.
...
Jiang Senlin's speed in imitating different painting styles became faster and faster.
The time it took to imitate a style shortened from three days to two, and finally to just one day per style.
In just two weeks, Shi Ningfu's folder was completely mastered by Jiang Senlin.
The child had almost become an art fanatic. He would run to the studio as soon as he opened his eyes in the morning, his eyes wide open, gripping his brush and starting to work. He barely rested or played in between, or perhaps he considered painting itself a form of play, indulging in it from morning until bedtime. He wouldn't even come downstairs to eat, requiring his mother to bring him meals on a tray. When he was particularly pleased with his work, he would dance with joy; if it didn't turn out well, he wouldn't get angry. He would simply lift the canvas, replace it with a new one, and continue painting on the floor.
Jiang Senlin had not received much education in frugality, as he had whatever he wanted. Consequently, paints and brushes were consumed at an alarming rate. He never washed his brushes, only replaced them with new ones. Brushes still wet with old paint would be unceremoniously plunged into other paint boxes, stirring them up until half the box of paint was ruined. He would then open another box. By the end of the day, the floor would be littered with stained and discarded paint boxes.
Jiang Ye was very attentive to his son's affairs, always taking time to personally visit the art supply store to purchase paints and brushes. He even set up a membership, depositing a million credits at once to avoid the hassle of repeated payments. Upon arrival at the store, he would simply have the staff move boxes of supplies. The art supply store, which had been experiencing sluggish business, was revitalized by this young painter single-handedly. The previously worried owner was now beaming, admiring his newly purchased jade bracelet under the light each day with a smug look of a nouveau riche.
Concurrently, the cultural engineering projects on the entire Jiang Ye Planet were nearing completion.
Libraries and parks, built in large numbers, sprung up like mushrooms and opened in major cities.
Promotional posters were displayed on streets and alleys, urging citizens to download their city's library app. Of course, downloading wasn't without its rewards; upon registering an account, one could receive a book purchase discount coupon of 100 off 150, a roll of toilet paper, or a small box of eggs.
Jiang Ye, in plain clothes, visited several libraries for inspection. Each city's library had a different style, but the interior decoration was luxurious and grand, exuding the fresh scent of new places. The lighting was bright, and on the endless wooden bookshelves were displayed hardcover volumes, millions of books in total—it was hard to say whether it was a cure for obsessive-compulsive disorder or a nightmare for trypophobia.
There were quite a few children in the libraries. Some parents went to work during the day, leaving their children unattended at home. It was better to bring them to the library, where they could stay with their classmates, and the free librarians would help look after them. As long as the children found a novel they enjoyed, they would remain quiet all day, patiently waiting for their parents to pick them up after work, reluctant to leave even then.
Jiang Ye reviewed the libraries' income and expenditure statements. The most profitable area was surprisingly the dining area on the basement floor. Children liked to browse in front of the bookshelves without buying anything. When they got hungry at noon, they would go to the basement for something to eat and drink, which constituted their entire consumption.
Based on the current consumption patterns, the libraries were undoubtedly operating at a loss.
Jiang Ye calculated the approximate amount of the deficit, which was acceptable.
The eavesdropping team had made no progress, only overhearing conversations suspected of commercial fraud. However, Jiang Ye had ordered them not to alert the suspects and to pretend they hadn't heard anything.
It was still unknown who the local and external inspectors were, or even if they had arrived.
Jiang Ye felt a sense of unease, wondering what the inspection results would be.
On the weekend, Shi Ningfu sent new information.
"I have already replicated 30 of Jiang Senlin's relatively high-level paintings. I'd like to submit them to the masters at the academy for their review shortly. I need your consent."
Jiang Ye: "Why do they need to be reviewed by the masters?"
Shi Ningfu: "The masters at our school have a certain reputation in the local art scene. If they all take notice, perhaps he can get many opportunities. If this path proves successful, Jiang Senlin's reputation will grow quickly."
Jiang Ye understood. "Alright, I'll trouble you then."
Shi Ningfu: "No trouble at all, but it might not work out. Those old masters have their eyes in the sky and are very critical of new artists' works. I'm just trying it out."
Jiang Ye waited in silence.
Cen Yemeng was a little nervous, repeatedly looking at the thirty paintings on her phone.
Jiang Senlin remained in the studio, continuing his freehand creation, completely unaware that light-years away, a group of art world bigwigs were about to judge his practice pieces.
At one o'clock in the afternoon, Shi Ningfu sent a video.
Jiang Ye and Cen Yemeng immediately leaned together to watch.
In a vast studio, thirty framed large paintings were lined up, hung on a snow-white wall.
All the paintings were incredibly familiar, all works by Jiang Senlin. Portraits of Isabelle and Cen Yemeng were among them.
As the large door opened, a group of people filed in and began to browse the paintings on the wall!