Chapter 582 - 269: Sir Brown’s Fear

"War and Peace," "Zeppelin Airship," "Olympia," "Lunch on the Grass," "Night Travel," "Sistine Madonna," "Academy of Athens"...

The elevator doors opened.

Sir Brown walked steadily toward the independent office at the end of the corridor.

The day after the shareholders’ meeting ended.

The Chairman could hardly wait to get rid of the portrait of the Old Count, which had been an eyesore in his office for quite some time.

The citizens can’t run into the Chairman’s office with placards to protest.

So.

Unlike that difficult sculpture that required a crane to move, under Sir Brown’s order, the portrait that had hung on the wall for nearly a century obediently lay in the corner of the warehouse collecting dust.

"Finally, no one is whispering in my ear any more ridiculous statements about how everything that happens here is related to art."

Ridiculous.

What qualifications does she have to stand on the moral high ground and reprimand me? How did the Ilyena family acquire their wealth and land? It certainly wasn’t through painting.

The moment the obnoxious portrait was taken down.

Sir Brown instantly felt refreshed, with a lighthearted feeling like a turned-over serf becoming the master of the house.

However, after looking at the original office for a long time, the empty walls always seemed to be missing something.

The magazine has just taken its first step in reform.

In the end, Sir Brown didn’t quite have the courage to have his own portrait placed on the wall.

He had a showcase installed by the workers.

Inside were the OBE Officer’s Medal awarded by the late Queen at Buckingham Palace, and issues from three AHCI-level heavy journals containing his papers: "AFRICAN ARTS," "BURLINGTON MAGAZINE," and "CONNAISSANCE DES ARTS," displayed side by side.

These four items were his life’s greatest pride.

Any visitor stepping into the magazine office, seeing these mountainous academic honors, would instantly know he wasn’t like that yellow-haired girl Anna who might not even have grown all her hair.

He had sufficient academic competence and social experience to take on the role of Sect Leader of the Oil Painting Magazine.

As for the office walls and the outer corridor, he adopted the implied meaning of "The new Era of the magazine is not owned solely by the Ilyena, masters are with me," and hung reproductions of famous paintings from around the world.

Whenever Sir Brown walked through this corridor, it was as if he were patrolling his subjects within his territory.

The eras of these once prominent and illustrious artists like Picasso, Manet, Monet, Menzel, Rembrandt, Giorgione had already dissipated into the long river of history.

Now, in the entire art market, he was the greatest King.

He could sway whomever he wished, and promote whomever he desired.

Sir Brown’s good mood was suddenly overshadowed when he opened the office door and saw the worried, round face of the Metropolitan Museum’s chief art advisor, Hellefi.

"Helafi Shareholder. The commotion outside the magazine office is just a minor storm not worth worrying about."

Sir Brown calmly said while setting up the bone china tea set and placing a baked red tea bag into the cup.

The Chairman thought this guy was making a big deal out of nothing.

He was planning to have lunch with the curator of the New Art Center to discuss the annual meeting, but received an urgent call from this guy insisting on meeting to discuss some very important issues.

The Chairman had to postpone socializing and rushed back by car.

"The commotion outside the magazine office?"

"No, I didn’t come to see you about such trivial matters," Helafi Shareholder shook his head, "Sir, I’ve been paying attention for several days, and it might be a bit bad, you’d better take the time to look at this."

The Shareholder pulled out a set of opened wooden boxes from his handbag.

He cleared the table, opened the box cover, and placed the items inside on the table one by one.

A storybook, a little toy, an illustration collection, and postcards.

"’Little Prince’ commemorative gift box, nearly 1200 sets have been sold in the UK, and what you see here is one of the sets I purchased."

Hellefi tapped the table.

"1200 sets?"

Sir Brown took a sip of tea, skillfully suppressing his shock at hearing this news.

He glanced over the set of gifts.

At the shareholders’ meeting, he had already seen Miss Elina’s Detective Cat’s new book.

But at this moment, seeing it quietly placed on the table before him, without the concern of camera filming, Sir Brown’s eyes showed a brief expression of appreciation.

Not talking about this or that.

The illustrations in this book are indeed beautiful.

Yet...

The fact that the limited edition gift box sold 1200 sets did make Chairman Brown’s mood skip a beat.

It’s only been a few days since it went on sale!

"Don’t worry, maybe it’s because ’Little Prince’ itself has many readers. After all, it’s a perennial bestseller classic worldwide, finding a thousand readers who love Saint-Exupéry in the entire United Kingdom isn’t difficult..."

Sir Brown continued to maintain a facade of calm.

Halfway through the sentence, he looked across at Hellefi and pressed his lips, unable to resist emphasizing.

"Haven’t I already asked the shareholders to make connections and criticize the paintings of this book in mainstream art magazines? Plus, I requested you to contact Professor Boggs at the Brooklyn Academy of Art to write a special art critique, has it been published now?"

Sir Brown is busy day and night.

With new appointments for personnel structure, the establishment of the magazine’s foundation, and preparations for the art annual meeting which President and dignitaries will attend as the local host of Glietz City...