Chapter 214: When Dark Clouds Keep Piling Up

"Painting is largely about luck," he said slowly. "Many painters have been dead for years before their works were discovered."

Qin Guanglin wrapped an arm around He Fang's shoulders, pulling her closer as he continued, "Look at me, I spent so many days, killed who knows how many brain cells, and only managed a painting of the Dragon Boat Festival. In the end, it was luck that won me an excellent award—just three thousand yuan.