You rascal, stop right there!

The Office of the Minister of Rites.

A servant came in and reported, "Sir, the Liang Meng Dance that you placed on the Miaoxin Painting Boat has been deciphered."

The man in blue sitting in the hall paused, seeming a little shocked.

The purple-robed young man beside him jokingly passed the dish to the man.

"Brother, your painting has been deciphered by someone! I'm really curious about who did it!"

Ling Shumo, who was dressed in green, had his eyebrows trembling slightly, and it was unclear what was on his face.

The servant scratched his head and said, "The person who cracked it this time superimposed the cursive script and painting of the word 'dance' on each other and understood the saying that the gentleman on the beam watched the gentleman below the beam dance with a sword.

This painting is not about the master catching a thief, but about a gentleman watching another gentleman, and the gentleman dancing with a sword himself! "

The man at the side also seemed to find it incredible: "Only your cursive script can overlap in this painting. The person who cracked it can not only detect the secrets in the painting, but also imitate your handwriting?"

Ling Shumo suddenly asked solemnly: "Who deciphered this painting?"

"He seems to be a young man in his twenties, rumor has it that he is a street thug!"

As soon as these words were spoken, Ling Shumo stood up almost instantly and grabbed the servant's collar in disbelief.

"What you said is true!"

"What does he look like?"

The servant was shocked: "It is said that this man is handsome, and he solved a painting that no one could understand for five years in one go!

By the way, Painter Song has seen him. After returning to Beijing, he told me about this incident!"

The purple-robed young man's eyes were filled with shock. He hadn't seen Ling Shumo behave so out of control since about five years ago.

This man has always been gentle and polite. He has never been in a hurry to review official documents, so he would never grab anyone by the collar.

He looked at the man thoughtfully: "Brother, I remember that this painting was made by you and Brother Yuebai together. Only a few people know the secret of the painting, right?"

Ling Shumo closed his eyes deeply, and there seemed to be a little red in his eyes: "That cursive calligraphy of the word 'Wu', only I can write it..."

There was not only shock in his tone, but also a hint of persuasion towards himself.

The purple-robed youth nodded: "Even if ordinary people think of this method, they may not be able to do it. Such a perfect superposition can only be achieved by someone who knows the direction of your characters and the meaning of your painting very well."

"This has been spread everywhere. The overlapping word "dance" was written by the younger brothers around him who changed it into adult handwriting over and over again. Otherwise it wouldn't be so perfect!" said the servant.

Revised it over and over again? ? How could this person have such patience and vision?

Ling Shumo's eyes became increasingly gloomy. He seemed unable to stand and suddenly sat back on the chair.

The purple-robed youth said, "If it weren't for the fact that this person and you have a tacit understanding and a talent for interpreting paintings, then it would be..."

At this point, the person opposite him seemed to have no appetite.

Telepathy? Is it possible?

"Zihuan, please continue your meal!" Ling Shumo's expression was very complicated.

The purple-robed man behind him could see that this man was in a hurry and was afraid that he would not be able to sleep tonight.

But after returning to the study, Ling Shumo couldn't calm down for a long time.

He stroked the other scrolls hanging in the room over and over again. Those were all painted by Brother Yuebai in the past, and he had managed to preserve them with great difficulty.

Ling Shumo still couldn't believe that his painting could be deciphered by an unknown person. He was still so clear about the direction of his cursive handwriting and they were in tune with each other.

He picked up the brush and held his breath, ready to put down the paintbrush.

In an instant, the marks on the brush forced him to look away. A lotus was clearly engraved on the ochre pen holder.

This pen was actually given to me by Brother Yuebai, and the marks on it seemed to be the same as they were five years ago.

Suddenly, dead trees were everywhere, and the grass was in disarray...

Although this person cannot be Yuebai, but!

He understands his own paintings and his own calligraphy. Even if he is completely ignorant of his own paintings, he can still tell the meaning of the paintings in his mind. This is exactly the same as Yuebai.

"Ayan!"

Ling Shumo suddenly spoke to the servant beside him.

"Sir? What's wrong?"

A Yan looked at the paintings hanging all over the room and the papers covering the table, feeling puzzled.

"I will leave the capital in a few days! You must remember to bring these paintings with you and go with me."

The tone was firm and solemn.