You rascal, stop right there!

"Have you forgotten that Emperor Qing Song Yuanshan knows what you look like?"

Ling Shumo smiled slightly, thinking that sometimes it’s better not to be so serious.

Emperor Qing has issued summons to all prefectures and cities. If you really have to go through the trouble to find someone, no one can easily impersonate him.

The difficulty was not finding Han Miaoran, but whether he was willing to obey the imperial edict and come to Beijing to paint.

Thinking of this, Bai Wan simply pushed his hat down, slowly turned his head and looked at him straight in the eye with a smile.

"That makes sense. I should either get a fake face or a mask or something like that."

He looked at him and smiled brightly, like some round animal with long thorns.

Ling Shumo said seriously, "You'll get a rash if you do that. You'd better wear this hat properly."

"Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!" Bai Wan was speechless and sighed, "You always meddle in these trivial matters..."

While complaining, he put on his hat obediently.

Then, the two returned to the cottage together.

The snow outside had just stopped, and the charcoal was burning in the room, making it much warmer.

However, a row of five young men were holding scrolls, smiling lazily and sunny, and bowing with their bundles of money.

"The snow reflects the bright light in the window, I wish your family will be prosperous forever, and your life will be long and long."

The person they worshipped was naturally Master Ling Shumo, the current academician of the White Deer Grotto Academy.

Today happens to be Laba Festival. As the White Deer Grotto Academy becomes more and more successful, these students who live nearby also give gifts to the teacher according to custom.

"I hope you will be diligent and remember virtue."

Ling Shumo guided them to stand up one by one, and he took out five brushes from behind and handed them to them.

"Thank you, Master—"

The boys seemed a little shy, but they showed all the proper etiquette.

After a careful observation, Bai Wan felt that this affection between teacher and student had a kind of harmony that he could never imagine.

"boom!"

The warm little hand warmer in my hand fell to the ground unconsciously.

A young man picked up the small hand warmer that Bai Wan had dropped on the ground and said respectfully, "This teacher has dropped something."

Perhaps he thought that the people around Ling Shumo were also teachers, so he said it so directly.

The word "Master" was very powerful.

Bai Wan subconsciously took a few steps back.

Ling Shumo was startled and could not help but pat the children's shoulders gently: "You go sit down first, the teacher will give you some tea. Remember to cultivate your moral character in the future."

The young man then turned around, and the few of them happily went to the table to wait for tea.

Bai Wan looked at the small hand warmer in his hand and suddenly felt funny.

History overlaps and has long been forgotten.

"Abai, I'd better not bring them home next time."

Ling Shumo said to him.

For Han Miaoran, words like "Master" and "Teacher" are like a curse that she should avoid, a shadow that she cannot escape in her lifetime.

"No, I'm not the type to argue with kids."

Bai Wan put down the hand warmer and looked at one of the young men. There were calluses on the tip of his thumb, which must have been the result of more than one day's work.

"This child must be someone who loves painting. I'll take some time to see his talent..."

Nowadays, one can tell whether someone is a Danqing person by their figure and appearance at a glance.

"Among the six arts of a gentleman, namely music, chess, calligraphy and painting, he does have some talent in painting, and is particularly good at painting fish."

Ling Shumo sighed, and suddenly he was shocked, looking at the people around him in disbelief:

"Have you finally figured it out and are willing to accept a disciple?"

Although there are self-taught painters today, not everyone is as talented as Han Miaoran.

Basically, it relies on the inheritance of masters and apprentices, and the torch is passed down from generation to generation, so that the painting manuals can be passed down for hundreds of generations.

Bai Wan stood there calmly, looking at these young boys, so cheerful and noble, and the bright moon was beautiful.

I still remember the years when I was a child learning painting. Things and people have changed.

"Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!"

He denied three times.

"You know, if I don't accept disciples, I will never be able to become a master."

Bai Wan smiled brightly at the person opposite him. Ling Shumo saw the knot in this person's heart that had been difficult to resolve for many years, and his stubborn resistance under his indifference.

The sea embraces all rivers and should be magnanimous.

However, he could never be magnanimous towards the master-disciple relationship.

Ling Shumo sighed and apologized: "Yes, you know the matter of accepting a disciple, I shouldn't say such a thing."

Holding the teacup with slightly raised fingertips, Bai Wan directly handed the brewed tea to the local.

"That's why I shouldn't have said such things that made you misunderstand. Seeing him reminded me of the time when I became his disciple."

"These children are well-educated by a good teacher like you. If they were in my hands, they would probably only teach people to cheat and deceive. Hmm?"

He raised his finger lightly and handed the teacups to the tray.

At that time, Ling Shumo looked at him and felt that this knot in his heart was very deep-rooted, so he gently shook the other's hand.

That day, Bai Wan and the children talked briefly about painting, and the atmosphere seemed warm and harmonious.

When the young man saw how lifelike his paintings were, he asked him why he didn't go to academy to teach painting.

Bai Wan always smiled but didn't answer.