You rascal, stop right there!

There are only 35 households in Guojia Village, so even if the officers and soldiers search door to door, they can finish the search within a few days.

Chai Jin was unwilling to follow and was directly tied up and dragged out.

After entering the village, military officer Pang Long scattered around with Han Miaoran's portrait in his hand, ready to search.

However, when a soldier saw the lifelike portraits of door gods at the doors of several households, he was amazed.

The wind moves the clouds, the strong and powerful door god, his clothes swaying in the wind make people feel dizzy and swaying

"This! I've never seen such... such a powerful door god statue..."

"It must be a painting by the Painting Saint!"

These words are almost out of my mouth!

Just at this moment, Pang Long and Chai Jin came in and were stunned by the breathtaking statue!

Military officer Pang Long was overjoyed. He rushed to the couple and asked urgently, "Where does the artist who painted your door god live?"

There was a blazing fire in their eyes, shining brightly against each other.

The woman was a little timid, thinking that this group of people were suspicious, and she quickly pinched the man next to her.

"What are you going to do?! Brother Bai is a good man, don't even think about causing trouble for him!"

The Guo couple both grabbed farm tools from the door, one holding a shoulder pole and the other a hoe, looking like they were fighting the enemy.

The villagers passing by were whispering to each other when they saw this, staring at the burly man, thinking that he was going to cause trouble.

The villagers of Guojia Village ran back one after another, grabbing their hoes, their footsteps like thunder, rumbling as they approached.

clatter! clatter! clatter!

In an instant, hundreds of villagers gathered around.

Now, more than a dozen officers and soldiers were like stuffing surrounded by gray glutinous rice balls. The shocked soldier took out his knife and couldn't stand steadily.

The people of Guojia Village are truly not afraid of the government, and their customs are very tough and simple.

Chai Jin immediately laughed when he saw this, and thought awkwardly that although the people could not fight against the officials, as long as there were more people, it would be possible!

I didn't expect Han Miaoran to be so popular among the people...

Pang Long's expression changed from ferocious to confused. He swallowed and looked at the group of tough farmers, and had to stop threatening them temporarily.

"We are officials appointed by the imperial court. We are here to find Han Miaoran, the world's best painter, to congratulate His Majesty on his coronation."

Finally, Pang Long turned his gaze towards the couple, trying to make his expression as gentle as possible.

It was a pity that he looked rather ugly, with a rat-like face and two abnormally-shaped beards, which made the people around him hold the carrying pole even tighter.

Chai Jin stepped forward and bowed gently and politely: "Fellow villagers, we have no ill intentions, we are just here to look for someone."

"With the official seal as proof, everyone please put away your swords and weapons, okay?"

Searching for the Saint of Painting——

Is he the legendary painting saint?

Everyone stepped back as they watched the kind-looking man take out the official seal from his bag.

Everyone whispered and negotiated for a while, then was drowned in the crowd of three or four people.

On that day, the people of Guojia Village sent people to the thatched cottage to look for him.

At this moment, Bai Wan was wearing a tattered hat and a gray fur coat and was feeding chickens. He looked lazy.

The man who came running shouted, "Brother Bai, some soldiers have come to the village. They say they are looking for you... that is, the painting... the painting saint!"

He was a little out of breath, holding the hoe tightly, gasping for breath.

Bai Wan continued to feed the chickens with a dull look on her face: "I'm not a painting saint. There's no painting saint here."

The man panicked: "Everyone is surrounding us now, I'm afraid a fight is about to start."

"Is anyone injured? No one from our Guojia Village can move!"

"Not yet...but later..."

The man looked conflicted, and if he continued to confront her, he might get serious.

"Let me go and take a look!"

Bai Wan threw down the bowl of chicken feed in his hand, picked up the big shovel at home and followed him.

A Yan, who was quietly accompanying and protecting, looked at the situation, holding the sword with a serious face: Is this person coming with bad intentions?

Guojia Village, ancestral hall.

The whole atmosphere was very solemn.

Bai Wan saw the most respected old man in the village, Mr. Guo, sitting in the middle with a cane.

A circle of villagers surrounded them, carrying pots, pans, hoes, brooms and shovels.

The military officer Pang Long on the opposite side immediately walked forward with the scroll in his hand and compared them carefully the first time he saw him.

A quiet and elegant person with bright eyes and eyebrows, wearing a tattered bamboo hat and holding a shovel inappropriately in his hand...

The shovel was covered with patches of rust and was stained with black mud and melted snow. If it weren't for his attire and appearance, you would have thought he was a farmer.

This is really too unlike a literati painter...

"Han Huasheng!"

"It really is the Painting Saint Han!"

……

After hearing him repeat the two sentences, the surrounding villagers felt uneasy, and looked at Bai Wan with a bit more disbelief and awe.

"Sir, I am just a country bumpkin. There is no need for you to mobilize such a large force."

Bai Wan looked up and saw Chai Jin with his hands tied, and sighed.

Pang Long looked him up and down, and felt that his eyes seemed to have a sharp gleam.

"Han Huasheng, I'm military officer Pang Long. In two weeks, the Three Kingdoms will be unified and Emperor Qing will ascend the throne. I've specially summoned you to the capital to create the world's best painting to celebrate!"

Bai Wan was at a loss for words. Going to Beijing to paint meant going to jail. Song Yuanshan couldn't possibly be unaware of his own nature.

He smiled faintly, with a hint of indifference in the corners of his eyes: "Unfortunately, I am not a painting saint, so I will not enter the capital."

It's obviously Han Miaoran, why is she pretending?!

Pang Long's black pupils were as sharp as swords. Clutching the scroll in his hand, he felt his blood surge up and he was silently angry.

The surrounding officers and soldiers also drew their swords, and the situation became tense, and it seemed that a fight between the officials and the people was about to begin.

"Chai Shizhao, do you think he is Han Huasheng?!"

Chai Jin was now tied up and unable to move. Thinking of the other party's current quiet life, he shook his head.

Unwavering and categorically denying it.

Seeing this, Old Man Guo pounded his cane hard and said, "I've already said I'm not a painting saint, what else do you want to do?!"

Although rural clans have few people, they have a huge network of relationships at the local level. Officers and soldiers have always tended to appease them and not interfere too much, and have always been constrained.

Once the old man said something, no one dared to refute him.

"People are similar. The official is focused on finding someone, so it's possible that he made a mistake..."

Bai Wan's calm words contained years of emotion.

But everyone knew that he was lying with his eyes open.

"Your Excellency has worked so hard, I believe His Majesty the Emperor of Qing is in great need of this congratulatory painting... If you don't mind, a country bumpkin like me can do my best to draw one for you."

"It's just that it might not be the best map in the world."

In response, Bai Wan smiled elegantly, brushed her thin sleeves, and sat quietly.

He originally didn't want to take the initiative to accept the painting, but the conflict between the two parties this time should not lead to more disasters.

Bai Wan looked at Pang Long with deep eyes, and there was deep thought, resentment... and imperceptible inquiry in his bright knife.

He quickly put the dagger at his waist against his neck: "If the emperor thinks this is inappropriate, then I will die as proof..."

The retractable fake dagger exuded a sticky mixture of chicken blood and ink from its gap.

"Hey! Han Huasheng!! No!"

"Absolutely not!"

……