"What kind of historian am I?" Wei Ran loosened his tie in confusion, took off his glasses and threw them on the table, "I originally wanted to be a war photographer."

"Then Mr. Photographer, would you like to pay the auction fee for that Chinese guqin?" Teacher Dalia changed the topic with a smile.

"Twenty thousand dollars?" Wei Ran asked with a grimace. Why did he feel like he was being taken advantage of when he spent hundreds of thousands of yuan to buy a musical instrument?

Teacher Dalia shrugged, "Including the clothes you are wearing and Culp's travel expenses to and from France, the total is twenty-four thousand U.S. dollars. How about a total of twenty-five thousand U.S. dollars?"

Wei Ran nodded dumbfounded, and finally endured his heartache and went into the bedroom, took out 25,000 US dollars in cash from the safe and handed it over to Teacher Dalia.

Although the other party is suspected of buying and selling by force, he is not a fool. Even if he thinks with his toes, he knows that those two photos were sent to the Patriotic War Museum in Moscow. It must be the credit of Teacher Dalia and Karp.

.So due to emotions and reasons, Wei Ran would take the initiative to pay a reasonable remuneration even if the other party didn't mention it.

Although I knew the truth in my heart, the two photos that were estimated to be worth at least hundreds of thousands of dollars in exchange for only a letter of appointment, and more than 20,000 US dollars were added to it, which really made Wei Ran, who had just become rich,

Some hearts bleed.

Teacher Dalia, on the other hand, acted as if nothing was wrong. She exaggeratedly sniffed the banknotes that Wei Ran had photographed in his hand, and then said hello to Nicholas coolly, leaving her hands empty without even picking up the briefcase.

He left the studio, drove away in his car, and disappeared at the end of the silver-covered road.
Chapter completed!