You rascal, stop right there!

At nightfall.

Bai Wan was in the room thinking about the scene of Ling Shumo painting during the day, and she couldn't help tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

For him, the paintings created by this talent are really amazing. He never expected that Danqing's paintings could be so magnificent and fascinating.

What was the brushwork like in that painting?

Ling Zichen seemed to have dipped a lot of ink, with the proportion of ink to water being larger than that of the pen. He drew lines left and right, and then a waterfall appeared.

He couldn't help but imagine the scene of himself painting, and couldn't fall asleep. He didn't care that it was the middle of the night, and quietly slipped into the study for no reason.

Now the candle had gone out long ago, and he tiptoed to light it.

In the dim light, he was lost in thought as he stared at the painting of the waterfall in the daytime. Every stroke and every smudge in the painting made him want to exclaim in admiration.

"Ling Zichen is indeed a good painter. If I learn all these, at least I can increase the price of my secret play paintings!" A man chuckled.

If my painting skills improve, then "Bamei Pavilion and My Two or Three Things" will be nothing to me!

He will surely be able to paint masterpieces like "The Romantic Song" and "Mandarin Ducks Playing in the Water".

The ruffians in the entertainment industry are still acting arrogantly!

Bai Wan was already imagining the future, letting out an obscene laugh or two from time to time.

So, he took the pen and ink as if possessed by a ghost and began to copy Ling Shumo's painting during the day.

If Constable Chen was here, he would probably be scared!

This guy didn't study so hard even when he was punished to recite the Great Winning Law in prison.

But Bai Wan's behavior at this time was different from before. His pen posture and brush strokes began to unconsciously imitate Ling Shumo's.

It is actually quite difficult to hold a pen with his left hand. He used the momentum of a cockfight with the street thugs next door to hold the unruly little pen.

After all, ordinary people only need to paint along the lines of the painting, but he had to go against the lines. He even had to hold his whole hand up because he was afraid that the ink would stain his robe.

He raised his elbow as if he was carrying a heavy burden. Ling Zichen painted from left to right, but he painted from right to left.

Sweat broke out on his forehead and he bit his lip as he copied carefully.

Little did he know that at this moment a figure had quietly walked over.

Looking up, the green figure was cold and desolate, and against the candlelight it looked even warmer like jade, as if it was out of tune with this world.

"Aren't you afraid that not sleeping will hurt your body in such a bad weather? Why are you wearing so little?"

Ling Shumo seemed not to have expected this either. He stared at the man quietly and asked him.

"Oh, I'm young and can't sleep!" Bai Wan raised his voice.

At this time, Bai Wan was only wearing her inner garment, a tattered patched white shirt with a hole in the top of her socks. Her hair was messy and scattered on her shoulders.

Holding the scroll in the moonlight, he looked completely different from his usual ruffian self.

If you ignore her clothes, you will see a kind of decadent and gorgeous appearance under the moonlight.

After a long while, the person on the other side suddenly said, "You were inspired by painting during the day and couldn't fall asleep?"

Upon hearing this, Bai Wan smiled brightly, with a row of small white teeth that were very dazzling.

"You can guess this? Can you tell fortunes?"

Perhaps these words touched someone's nerves, and Ling Shumo finally curled up the corners of his mouth slightly.

Painting in the middle of the night was Yuebai's habit, but Baiwan still did it. Although his painting skills were mediocre now, this was not the real him.

What about the bright moon in the wind? What about the weeds in the field? A connoisseur does not distinguish between painting skills.

"You copied this painting well, but the ink is not rich enough. You need to move faster," he said.

Hearing this, Bai Wan quickly took a look at the painting in his hand and nodded repeatedly.

Who on earth is this Ling Zichen? How could he be so accurate in his criticism?

"Then how should I draw it?" He handed over the pen in a servile manner, his eyes smiling like two crescent moons.

"Look here, the ink splash is not connected well, it should be..." Ling Shumo just picked up the pen and his body paused.

He turned his head to look at the other person's eager eyes, carefully observing the appearance of the scroll. For no reason, he felt a sense of familiarity in his heart, as if this scene seemed familiar to him.

Ling Shumo picked up the pen unconsciously, but curled his fingers under the light and shadow.

Yuebai learned this ink-splashing painting technique from him.

Why is it so?

He couldn't help but tighten his grip on the brush, and the sweat on his palms became uncontrollable.

Seeing this expression, Bai Wan suddenly remembered the day when they first met in Baihua Pavilion. This person seemed to be looking at her with the same eyes.

Does this person really know me?

Even if she admitted that she had lied to him before, he was so generous that he wouldn't care about it.

But why are you so stubborn!

I really want to pry his mouth open!

Bai Wan gave a self-deprecating laugh and consciously wanted to take back the pen and ink.

"It's inconvenient for you to teach me, isn't it? That's right! I'm just a useless ruffian. I only know how to eat, drink, gamble, cheat and deceive people! And you still want to learn how to paint from others! Why pretend to be a genius!"

He held the brush and ink and sighed as he faced the scroll, but his eyes kept glancing at the person next to him.

This is his usual tactic. When deceiving people, this trick is called retreat in order to advance.

Unexpectedly, Ling Shumo put down his pen, his eyes flickered, and he said:

"If you can understand the meaning of a painting, you are gifted. If you can hold a brush with your left hand, you are determined. If you can fight for justice for your brothers, you are loyal.

If that is the case, how can you say that you are useless? "

The person opposite was wearing a hazy green robe and spoke in a faint voice.

"How could you think so?" Bai Wan felt a burning heat in her heart for some reason.

It's not like he hasn't heard praises over the years.

But they are all wise bosses!

The scourge of Baiyun City!

Awesome ruffian!

Cunning liar!

That's it.

This was probably the most serious comment he had ever heard.

Ever since he knew that this man was not a prostitute or a concubine, he felt much better and no longer had to feel sorry for this man out of self-righteousness.

After all, no man wants to be misunderstood like this! No matter how handsome he is, he can't be treated as an object and trapped in the backyard.

Moreover, he not only has a stunning appearance, but is also a master of calligraphy and painting. Although he comes from a scholarly family, he does not despise an illiterate ruffian like himself.

Did I really know this person?

He was very confused.

"Ling Zichen, can we become sworn brothers?" Bai Wan said bravely.

It doesn’t matter whether he knew me before or not.

Such a person! It would be a pity not to become sworn brothers with him!

Ling Shumo looked at him, but saw overlapping phantoms in front of and behind this person's face.

That year, the bamboo forest swayed in the breeze. The young brother Yuebai also said this.

Same tone, same cautious probing.

"Okay." The other party's voice was a little hoarse.

"Just call me Zichen!"

Ling Shumo gave the same answer as he did ten years ago.

...

Then, in the candlelight, there was a figure in white as white as snow and a figure in green as hazy as a shadow.

The two of them sat in the light discussing the painting, and they could vaguely see White Pea scratching his ears and grinning from time to time.

Although Bai Wan tried his best to paint elegantly, his work was rough and careless. Only when he occasionally put pen to paper did he appear to be meticulous and serious.

……

“Is it better if I draw it this way?”

"Your left hand doesn't have enough strength to write with."

"What about this?"

"Very good!"

"Then shall I add one more thing?"

“That’s too much!!”

……

Bai Wan is, after all, a smart and elegant man. After listening to Ling Shumo's guidance, he actually had new insights in just a few hours.

And under the occasional nonsense from this ruffian, Ling Shumo would occasionally smile.

However, Ling Shumo looked at the man in front of him who had the same face as before, and saw that his left hand was having such difficulty painting, his skills were not very good.

There was a sudden pang of pain in my heart, as if it was being bitten by thousands of insects.

He asked a very sharp question to him: "Abai, do you like painting? Do you want to become a real painter?"

The man on the other side hesitated and thought for a moment: "I used to just want to be the number one rogue in Baiyun City, but now..."

"What about now?" Ling Shumo looked at him, seeming to care about the answer.

Bai Wan saw a ripple in the man's eyes, but couldn't help asking, "You don't believe that a ruffian like me can succeed in this field, do you?"

The person on the other side didn't answer, but his eyes were filled with an indescribable meaning.

"Owner!!"

At this time, A Yan came over.

He looked at his own son with a face full of worry, and then seeing Bai Wan, he gave him several glances.