The art exhibition was organized by Zhang Yifan and a few friends, with a large number of paintings on display, and not just oil paintings, but various other styles as well.
Suddenly, there was a commotion ahead.
It seemed like an interview was taking place, with a reporter carrying a camera continuously walking backward. Zhang Yifan and another long-haired man walked together, talking confidently to the camera.
Jiang Yaoyao gave Song Niaoniao a nudge.
Song Niaoniao glanced over and chuckled, "Artists indeed, his hair looks like it hasn't been washed in at least a week."
Soon, Zhang Yifan saw them too.
He said something to his companion, apologized to the reporters with a smile, and then came straight toward them.
"Holy shit, why is he coming over?" Song Niaoniao exclaimed in alarm, "He didn't hear me laughing at them just now, did he?"
"Maybe he's just saying hello," Jiang Yaoyao reassured her.
