Chapter 728: The Grandpa Who Does Manicures (Part 2)

Elder Cao, such an eminent figure, might as well have a security team following him with every step he takes. The school finds it highly valuable if he can hold a lecture for a thousand people each semester.

Faced with the invitation, Elder Cao thought it over and hesitated for nearly a year.

When he finally agreed and came to Germany, the school realized that all their efforts and waiting were worthwhile.

More than worthwhile, it was like they had found a treasure.

Mr. Cao Xuan truly came with the intention of being a teacher. During that year of contemplation, Elder Cao spent time compiling “Lecture Notes on Asian Art” for a whole year.

He pondered on how to present Eastern art to the world.

This course, once taught, was taught by the old gentleman for five or six years.

The students adored this amiable old gentleman, and those who could gain admission to the Hamburg Academy of Fine Arts wouldn’t lack in quality.

Everyone appreciated having a world-renowned Eastern great painter at their school.

Cao Xuan was like a walking mascot at school.

Princeton University took pride in once having Einstein, and the Royal Academy of Arts was proud to have the chief designer of the world’s most valuable Apple Group, Jonathan Ive, as an honorary dean.

And the HFBK also had their own, the head of their painting department, artist Cao Xuan.

A tacit understanding developed between the school and students: when encountering Professor Cao Xuan on campus, students would spontaneously keep quiet, and no one would run up to disturb Elder Cao’s daily life.

Students even intercepted tourists or journalists trying to sneak into campus to visit this great artist.

It’s not that the children here didn’t value Elder Cao.

Considering Cao Xuan’s societal status, thirty years ago he already didn’t need the fervent, frenzied shouts of fans or the 24-hour flashing spotlights to prove his success.

Cao Xuan is the unique Cao Xuan.

This kind of ordinary-person-like interaction and the space that students willingly left for the elderly gentleman’s privacy and thoughts was the highest respect and maintenance of Professor Cao Xuan by these art students.

However, Cao Xuan was not truly an ordinary person.

After the class ended, there would always be countless students holding their notebooks and portfolios, waiting beside the podium, seeking him out under various pretenses to ask questions.

Students knew that in the dreams of an artist, all the achievements, the old professor before them nearly had them all.

They hoped to get the chance to interact directly with Mr. Cao.

Perhaps even obtain a personal autograph from Mr. Cao Xuan as a keepsake.

This could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for an art student, a chance to get closest to art history. It’s estimated that back then, the Princeton physics students treated their Einstein the same way.

Elder Cao, too, was a very interesting old fellow.

He stopped Old Yang, who feared for Elder Cao’s heart, about to have a heart attack each time he saw him surrounded by a group of students at close range, from repeatedly suggesting to the school the idea of posting security or setting up warning lines in the classroom.

Only a distant Buddha, far from the mundane world, could be surrounded by a warning line.

Only a teacher with warmth, close to student life, and with a “popular touch” can influence the students’ lives and futures, delivering lessons into the hearts of the young ones.

Cao Xuan could act as a great Buddha, soaring gracefully and unreachably anywhere in the world.

Why specifically go to an art academy to be one?

Cao Xuan simply used a method to solve this problem.

He made a pact with all the students who were admitted to the “Asian Art History” course.

Before the start of each semester, the old gentleman would announce a long list of reading materials and dozens of the most representative artworks in the history of Dongxia, from the Wei and Jin Dynasties to the present, as supplementary materials for these European students.

During each week’s class break, Mr. Cao would randomly select questions from these lists to ask.

Perhaps listing ten of the most important painters from the Golden Tang period, perhaps discussing the origins and artistic style differences between Vietnamese silk painting and Dongxia silk painting, or perhaps asking why Yan Zhenqing could be the only calligrapher whose fame could stand shoulder to shoulder with Wang Xizhi in the history of Dongxia…

Among the submitted answers, the one who answered the best could privately chat with Elder Cao after class and receive an autograph.

These questions were not difficult.

They weren’t deliberately esoteric or strange; if someone didn’t have enough interest in Eastern art and hadn’t put in the effort to read a lot of supplementary materials after class, they definitely couldn’t answer well.

Today’s course officially entered the contemporary painting trends of Asia. Cao Xuan’s classroom question had only one name – “Qi Baishi”, allowing the students to freely select a work by Old Master Bai Shi for art analysis.

This bespectacled female student answered the best.

She even explained Old Master Bai Shi’s inscription beside the two chicks fighting over a worm, which used the saying “Today they compete, another day they protect each other”, suggesting that it was not just about painting chickens, but also about depicting the cultivation of virtues in all forms of life.

Mr. Cao Xuan appreciated that greatly.

“You want an autograph, right? Where should I sign?” Elder Cao asked.

The female student nodded vigorously, pulling out a huge frame from her bag with effort, carefully offering it to the old gentleman, eagerly asking, “Is it okay?”

“Oh, so you came prepared,” Elder Cao chuckled.

His signature really could be worth money.

When Elder Cao made a pact with the students, he had already stated this.