Gu Tongxiang cheerfully lit a piece of cedar wood with a lighter, then used it to light the other’s cigar, before relighting the one in his own hand.

"You’re really something, Old Wu. Thank you so much. Gu Weijing didn’t call you Grandpa Wu for nothing since he was a kid."

He glanced at the artist certificate in Gu Weijing’s hand, smiling like a steamed bun.

Gu Tongxiang also had a similar set of things himself, but right now, looking at what his grandson held, it seemed more like a precious treasure.

"Has the Calligraphy and Painting Association ever had a member as young as my grandson?" Gu Tongxiang was quite proud.

The Calligraphy and Painting Association,

if it were organized by amateur enthusiasts from East Asia, it really wouldn’t be of much use, mostly just a way to fool outsiders into buying paintings.

But when it comes to an official organization,

even if it’s just a title with little power, sometimes it’s really quite hard to get in.

Many artists who are quite pragmatic might not care about money but live their whole life for a title.

Things like major international biennales and art expos,

are actually a bit out of reach for most painters. The most hopeful and practical goal is to become a member of the local official Calligraphy and Painting Association.

It’s like amateurs turning into scientists with institutional affiliation.

Gu Tongxiang himself only got an advisory title there when he was almost fifty.

Becoming a member of the Yangon Calligraphy and Painting Association, even if the association’s main role is to distribute tropical fruits, just hearing it sounds prestigious.

Moreover,

there are opportunities for academic conferences every year, which are basically "expense-paid vacations."

Not only is the cost covered, but there’s even an additional expert fee to be earned.

Honestly,

for artists in such small places, how many dare to dream of earning millions of dollars each year?

Everyone’s an adult, they’re pretty realistic.

For a painter, if by thirty you still can’t see where you’re heading and are dreaming of getting rich overnight, you’re probably not far from begging for a living.

Having free fruit to eat and being able to pretend to travel around every year is already very enjoyable.

"This New Year’s money is really nice."

Gu Tongxiang was even more delighted to see his grandson become a member of the association than when he himself received that little brown book back in the day.

Becoming a member of the Calligraphy and Painting Association offers not only these small perks but also substantial hidden benefits.

First,

the most noticeable is the direct enhancement in social status.

The association won’t pay you money, but you henceforth have the backing of an authoritative organization.

In the art world,

pursuing fame and profit is essentially the same thing most of the time.

At least in the eyes of tourists at the storefront, his grandson’s status instantly elevates from some unknown who-knows-what painter to a formally certified artist with official recognition.

This is important.

Previously, when Gu Tongxiang priced Gu Weijing’s colorful sketch of a vintage car model at five hundred dollars, it was just to encourage his grandson.

Most likely, no tourist would pay for a signature by a mystery name like [Gu Weijing/G·W].

But now, if Gu Weijing were to display his work in a gallery again,

he would qualify to add a note in parentheses after his name: [Gu Weijing/G·W—(Member of the Yangon Calligraphy and Painting Association, Calligraphy and Painting Artist)]

Even if the price remains at five hundred dollars, well... it might not necessarily sell.

But it already marks a fundamental change from before.

At least if they should encounter a wealthy tourist who likes the piece, they would feel much more at ease when buying, not feeling like they’re being duped into buying a child’s work.

In the gallery industry, the most convincing and weighty credentials proof are winning awards at large biennales like Venice, or holding an exhibition in top art museums like the Louvre or Vatican Museums.

Alternatively, earning a rating of four and a half stars or above from buyer recommendations in authoritative art magazines with a hundred-year history like "Oil Painting" is also very impressive.

In the context of "The Legend of the Condor Heroes,"

this equates to being an exceptional master like the Eastern Evil and the Western Poison, possessing genuine skills, being able to sit grandly at the podium at any art annual meeting and look at others dismissively.

Such divine beings, there might only be a handful in all of Asia.

If one were a renowned Master of Peach Blossom Island like Huang Yaoshi, being a member of the Yangon Calligraphy and Painting Association is at most like the Yellow River Four Ghosts, characters who appear briefly and then fade out.

But then again,

don’t underestimate them.

In the eyes of ordinary people, the Yellow River Four Ghosts are also genuine great masters, and they seem like minor characters only because of the contrast with their opponents.

Just like Gu Tongxiang, a member of the Yangon Calligraphy and Painting Association, might be a minor figure internationally but is already among the top in Myanmar.

Especially in Asia’s cultural atmosphere, this official recognition is indeed quite respected.

Secondly,

with this expertise label, it’s convenient to hold intensive training classes, conduct art education, and give lectures.

It may sound a bit low, but it’s actually quite lucrative.

With the title of Calligraphy and Painting Association member, it’s easier to open private studios and conduct extracurricular tutoring for art students.

As long as the teaching is good and there are enough parents willing to pay,

the yearly earnings may well surpass those of this small family gallery.

It’s similar to Principal Fitz’s previous Gifted & Talented enhancement classes, which would either be led by an in-house teacher like Professor Watter or hire external professors from the community.

This year, students are excited because for those kinds of external hires, securing someone like Mrs. Sakai would be unimaginable as she would never consider Fitz’s remote Yangon, Myanmar campus.

Even artists several tiers lower wouldn’t bother responding to Principal Fitz’s invitation letter, having no interest in coming to such a remote place to teach.

For external hires, these private schools usually pick from the list of Calligraphy and Painting Association members.

Fitz follows a European pay standard, with a month’s teaching earning six to seven million Myanmar Kyats, equivalent to about 3000 US Dollars, easily over ten thousand US dollars per semester.

This amount is seen as trivial by Mrs. Sakai but is very significant for local artists.

It’s just that Fitz doesn’t offer a Chinese Painting course, or else Old Gu would have eagerly signed up long ago.

Finally, perhaps the most useful benefit for Gu Weijing at this stage is that,

as a member of the Yangon Calligraphy and Painting Association, they are listed as officially recognized high-level talents.

If you’re still a student,

getting into local universities or applying to some European schools that recognize this high-level list, or top-five ranked Asian art schools in South Korea like Hongik University or Ewha Womans University, is admission without examination.

As long as your language scores are qualified, you can enroll directly and even receive a scholarship.

For those without exemption, admission officers would still regard you more favorably, willing to relax admission standards, granting you almost the same treatment as high-level athletes.

"Youngest? Not necessarily. There was an instance in the early 2000s when a warlord’s nephew, probably trying to appear cultured or simply on a whim, wanted to get his name in, likely around Xiaogu’s age. Do you think the association dared to refuse?"

Old Wu shrugged helplessly: "But those who know better just treat it as a joke. The rich kid played for two days, got bored, and withdrew."

"In those genuinely working in this field, Gu Weijing is indeed the youngest."

"This membership wasn’t easy to acquire, was it?"

Gu Tongxiang enjoyed his cigar, seemingly planning to indulge himself today by finishing a third of his stock.

"It’s alright. The standing committee is up for re-election in a couple of months. If you don’t use the power, it goes to waste."

Old Wu remarked with some self-satisfaction: "If I don’t take care of the kids growing up around me, who should I take care of? Besides, it’s not about pulling strings for him. I hear Xiaogu performed really well, even Master Cao praised him highly. Among all the members, who has that kind of skill?"

"But you, Old Gu?"

Old Wu pointed to the rice paper on the desk in the yard, teasingly: "What, still can’t let go of imitating Lang Shining?"