Entering the venue, there is a sea of ​​excitement.

The Seoul International Arts Festival, unlike the Baeksang Arts Festival, has people from all over the world present, and most of them are art circles in East Asia.

The hall of the venue has been carefully decorated into a palace of art. The surrounding walls are covered with posters of classic works from the film and television industry from various countries. Many guests of different skin colors stopped to admire, sometimes nodding and praising, sometimes whispering to each other about the paintings.

The insights and artistic atmosphere quietly spread among these soft words.

On the stage, the huge electronic screen looped through the wonderful moments of previous art festivals, the impressive clips of award-winning works, the excited tears of the winners, and the breathtaking performance scenes on the stage flashed one by one, like

It is unfolding a long historical scroll of art development for everyone, allowing everyone to immerse themselves in the thoughts of artistic inheritance and innovation.

"The International Arts Festival is just different. The atmosphere is much better than Baeksang. No, I should say it's much more normal." Chu Xuan commented.

Liu Yifei nodded and smiled: "Indeed."

Looking back at the Baeksang Arts Festival, as soon as I entered, I felt like the women were more beautiful and the men were more wealthy.

But the scene is very different now. Men and women of different skin colors are all dressed solemnly, and their words and deeds are all polite.

No matter it's a disguise or something, at least on the surface, the atmosphere in front of you makes people feel more comfortable.
Chapter completed!