You rascal, stop right there!

Half a month later.

In the Luo Mansion Garden Painting Studio, there was already a water vat dyed entirely with ink, and even the waste paper next to it had been piled up into a hill.

Bai Wan, whose buttocks have grown well, has started to use the strength of his left hand, and he has become more free and easy in painting.

He recalled what Luo Wenqi had told the children the other day about how to use long and short lines together to create shades of light, dark, dry and wet in painting.

He also gradually began to distinguish the lines, and now he could barely tell the thickness, distance and nearness.

Since Brother Zichen trusts him to be successful, he must not let him down.

Two months had passed since he started to paint. Bai Wan was now able to use the brush with his left hand freely, and could barely keep up with his thoughts while he was writing.

He even asked someone to write a letter to Old Man Bai, who praised him and told him to study hard.

Now, everything is going well.

It’s just that Brother Zichen didn’t come to see the progress of his left-hand painting…

This day.

Mr. Song’s sixtieth birthday celebration was held as scheduled.

At this time, the house was decorated with lanterns and colorful decorations, and there was a festive atmosphere. The dignitaries and scholars from nearby prefectures all came with gifts.

In addition to celebrating the birthday, they also wanted to see the "General's Autumn Hunting" by Qi Tu, curious about what kind of painting it was that stood out among more than 20 painters.

Bai Wan was wearing a white painting boy's clothes and a white hat and went to the mansion with Luo Wenqi.

He looked at the dignitaries here and was speechless.

He thought he had seen the world, but was stunned by the dazzling prices offered by these people.

Fortunately, Chen Yu, who had a diarrheal illness, was not brought here. That person's temperament is really out of place here.

"Mr. Qi Tu is here to congratulate you!" the person at the door shouted.

Hearing this, the people around looked at each other sideways, and a group of gentry and scholars couldn't help but bow.

Even Song Zhuqing, who was not far away, came forward with a cane and saluted the bearded man in a very flattering manner.

"My humble home is truly honored by your presence," said Song Zhuqing.

Luo Wenqi shook his head, holding the scroll and raising his finger: "Well, congratulations to Mr. Song on his 60th birthday!"

After saying this, Song Zhuqing took the painting and nodded. He quietly opened it, and the beard on his lips trembled again and again.

This painting is even more exquisite than He Xiang's previous painting that concealed the disability of his left eye. Even the disability of his right leg is hidden, not to mention that the character is already lifelike.

Although Luo Wenqi is inconsistent in appearance and character, his figure paintings are indeed outstanding.

When other people draw people, they focus on their appearance and clothes, but he focuses on their expressions, and is particularly good at the emotions expressed in their eyes and eyebrows.

The more Song Zhuqing read, the happier he became. However, after he finished reading, he discovered that there was an extra name signed above.

"Layman, who is this Bai Wan?" he asked.

Luo Wenqi blew his beard, pulled Bai Wan, who was wearing a white bamboo hat, in front of the crowd, and said softly: "Look! This was made by me and my good friend Bai Wan. This painting was all his idea."

"Oh?" Song Zhuqing glanced at the man wearing the bamboo hat.

The young man has a handsome face and bright eyes and eyebrows, and he is obviously a man of literature and elegance.

In fact, Han Miaoran used to be a recluse, and apart from people in the palace and his relatives and friends, very few people had seen his appearance.

Luo Wenqi was not afraid of his appearance being revealed, but he was afraid that before he revealed the truth, this name would cause an uproar that he would not be able to bear, so he signed his name with Bai Wan's name.

For him, providing ideas and inspiration, and being a co-painter, how could he not sign his name?

Bai Wan chuckled and said, "I am Bai Wan! Master Song, I wish you good fortune as vast as the East Sea and a long life as great as the Southern Mountains!"

Although he has little knowledge, he still knows what to say.

Song Zhuqing twisted his beard and frowned. He felt that this man looked aloof, but when he spoke, he had a bit of a street air, not like a scholar.

Since he is favored by the layman, this person must have something extraordinary!

"Luoluo, take the painting back and hang it in the center of the birthday banquet." He handed the scroll to the pink-dressed maid beside him.

Then, he walked up to Luo Wenqi and said in a humble tone, "Layman, Mr. Bai, please come this way!"

Bai Wan found it rare that this man didn't divide people into different classes. He pouted his lips in self-mockery and followed him forward.

At the banquet, there were all those unfamiliar country gentlemen and scholars. Luo Wenqi and Song Zhuqing were bowing and greeting those scholars, as if they were used to it.

Bai Wan sat aside, eating pastries boredly, occasionally looking up at these hypocritical people who were pretending to be polite.

At this moment, a man in a golden robe walked in holding a scroll in his left hand.

He has sharp eagle eyes and very sharp eyebrows, but he has a proud smile on his face.

Bai Wan recognized him immediately. Wasn't this the guy Song Yuanshan who had spanked him on the butt before?

"Father, I came to celebrate your birthday!"

The man took out the scroll and opened it in front of everyone.

The characters read "Live as Long as the Southern Mountains" in large cursive script, and below it was a red seal with the characters "Zi Chen" written on it.

Bai Wan felt that the handwriting looked very familiar at first glance. Although he didn't know what was written, it was somewhat similar to the handwriting of the person he had seen before.

It can be seen that the writing is somewhat restrained, not as elegant as before. The writing style is even a bit dull like those ink bamboo paintings in Taoranju.

He remembered that the man's handwriting was like a sudden rain or a whirlwind, with a free and unrestrained brushstroke.

"What is this?" Song Zhuqing, who was sitting in the middle, couldn't help but ask.

Song Yuanshan raised his eyebrows, pointed at the words with his left hand and said, "This is the calligraphy of Lin'an Jushi, the calligraphy saint in painting, the current Minister of Rites Ling Shumo."

what?

Bai Wan stood up in surprise.

Because according to his own feeling, the shape of the characters was clearly somewhat imitating Ling Zichen's.

They both have the surname Ling, could they really be the same person?

He glanced at Luo Wenqi beside him, but saw that he avoided his gaze and an awkward smile appeared on the corner of his lips. Not only did he bury his face in a place, but he also covered himself with his hands.

When the people around saw the calligraphy work in the painting, they couldn't help but bow and flatter. They almost said that they thought it was a masterpiece.

Bai Wan felt uncomfortable and immediately asked, "Where did Master Song get this word?"

Song Yuanshan slowly turned sideways, and felt that the man looked very familiar. He raised his chin and tilted his head to take a closer look.

"Of course it was Lord Ling who wrote it to me personally!" he said.

"When was it written?" Bai Wan asked aggressively.

Song Yuanshan was a little anxious: "Of course it was because I went to Lord Ling's house to ask for it half a month ago before he went to Xuanli Country!!"

Full of lies!

Bai Wan snorted softly.

If his guess was correct, Ling Zichen was Ling Shumo. Half a month ago, he was still learning painting and tasting dishes with him in the Lan Garden of Baiyun City!

Where did this thing come from? I have never seen it before.

Although he had only known the Zichen brothers for a short time, he could recognize the direction of all their handwriting.

He especially remembered the strokes written by Brother Zichen, which were so wild and unrestrained that it didn't seem like something that an ordinary person could write.

The stroke of this character is too stiff, clearly a deliberate imitation; the arc cannot be so graceful, and there is a deliberate connection in the middle.

"I said this word is fake! Believe it or not!"

Bai Wan turned his head away arrogantly, not bothering to pay attention to these guys with fishy eyes on their faces.