You rascal, stop right there!

Day two.

Bai Wan found herself getting up from the house, and in a daze she remembered that she had gone to the land of beauties.

Suddenly, I felt a terrible headache.

He put on his clothes and tidied his appearance with great difficulty, then walked out before dawn.

I thought, it’s time to help Ling Shumo into the wheelchair.

However, a headache is a headache.

I must not go back on my word about what I promised Brother Zichen every day.

The servant came over with a bowl of soup: "The monk said that when Mr. Bai wakes up, remember to drink the hangover soup. Then, you don't have to help Mr. Ling sit in the wheelchair today."

Bai Wan took the bowl of soup and swallowed it in one gulp.

Then, he glanced sharply and said, "I'm not going? That's not good, right?"

The servant said, "Today, the layman and Master Ling went together to register those painting students for the painting master exam, saying that it was something that had nothing to do with the master."

“Nothing to do with it?!”

Maybe they think that he only studied for three months and his level is not good enough to pass the exam! ?

Bai Wan thought it was a bit ridiculous but also reasonable.

"Hey, where is Chen Yu who came back with me last night?" he asked.

"That man, he sleeps like a dead pig. The monk said to just leave him alone and wait until he wakes up." The servant smiled and covered his face.

Everyone in the Luo Mansion knows that their master follows Mr. Chen around every day.

Bai Wan chuckled and understood very well.

So, this guy looked around and walked out the door with a hint of playfulness.

He always knew what he looked like when he was drunk, and Chen Er must have suffered a lot.

The dog's head on the snow last night has melted away, and not even a trace of it can be seen.

All the filth and vomit-filled clothes were changed, and even the clothes on my body were changed...

There really is no trace left.

……

He immediately walked out of the yard, but saw a pregnant woman talking to a painting boy in the small courtyard.

The man was very curious and walked forward.

Hua Tong originally wanted to stop him, but he didn't expect that the person's steps were extremely fast and he ran ahead of him in a few seconds.

Bai Wan glared at the man fiercely, then walked over to the woman.

This is an extremely ordinary woman in the countryside, and her clothes and hairpins are also very common. However, the wooden hairpin on her head is simple, but very delicate. It can be seen that it is the most carefully crafted item on her body.

Look at this figure.

"Are you the White Painter?"

There was a tone of disbelief and shock in this person's voice.

Hearing this, Bai Wan paused. He had to admit that the surname really confirmed his guess for many days.

"Who are you?" Bai Wan asked casually.

Yinniang looked as if she was delighted by the reunion after a long separation: "Master Bai, I am Yinniang! Yinniang from Chengjiazhuang!"

Bai Wan seemed confused and looked the man up and down.

"You painted portraits of all our villagers. You also helped us bury our bodies. I am truly grateful."

As she spoke, she bowed.

"That gentleman also said that he didn't know where you went after leaving Chengjiazhuang. Now he found it," she said with a smile.

Bai Wan suddenly felt shocked and asked in surprise, "Did I call myself Master Bai back then?"

Yinniang didn't think anything was wrong, instead she smiled and said, "Yes, you called yourself Bai Yue back then. You said you were a country painter and came to paint our portrait."

White moon, turned upside down, is moon white.

After Bai Wan knew that Ling Shumo and Luo Wenqi were the three great painting saints, he went to find out the name of the remaining saint.

Han Miaoran, whose courtesy name was Yuebai and whose pseudonym was Ximeng Jushi, had lost both his parents.

When he was only seven years old, he and Ling Shumo became disciples of painter Li Simeng. When he was twelve years old, his painting "White Autumn Moon in the Heart of the River" was praised by the late emperor and he was directly appointed as a court painter.

After that, he often accompanied the late emperor and painted as he went. At the age of fifteen, he was known as one of the great painting saints and was famous all over the world.

However, when this painter was fifteen years old, he suddenly disappeared.

Half a year later, the government found the body of painter Han Miaoran by the lake. His Majesty was grief-stricken and ordered a grand burial.

A generation of painters disappeared from the world...

Bai Wan smiled sadly: "Did I draw well back then?"

The person opposite had a look of approval on his face, as if he was reminiscing about the past.

"Master Bai's right hand is very powerful. He can paint vividly with just one glance! That hand is even more powerful than the hands of a peasant woman planting rice in the fields!"

……

The snow falls slowly.

Deserted, sad, and with an imperceptible loneliness.

A certain man suddenly hid his mutilated right hand behind his back.

He hid his playful smile and said lightly, "That's right, but I'm better now than before. Because I paint with my left hand now!"

Yinniang naturally looked at him with approval: "Left hand? Master Bai is really striving for perfection! No wonder he said that he wanted to paint the best painting in the world. I really can't understand your realm."

The best picture in the world?

This is what I pursued in the past.

A painter, famous all over the world, has a right hand that can paint all the prosperity in the world.

A ruffian, a swindler, who can only draw with his left hand like a child.

Who would have thought it would be a person?

At this moment, Bai Wan clenched his fists tightly, but immediately concealed what he was thinking.

"Madam, please don't tell Lord Ling about what I talked to you today. We have never met before."

Yinniang looked at this man in confusion, and felt that this man seemed different from the one he was five years ago.

Bai Wan was holding the snow in his fist, feeling the biting coldness in his hands, with a wry smile on his face.

At first, he didn't understand why Ling Shumo and Luo Wenqi were unwilling to recognize him directly.

When he realized that he might be Han Miaoran, everything became clear.

Especially since Yinniang called out this name to her face.

A famous painter's right hand was disabled, and the world also declared him dead. This is equivalent to having no fame and no talent.

Even if someone said at this time that he was a saint of painting, who would believe it?

Do you believe the poorly drawn secret play picture with the left hand? Or do you believe that he doesn't know a single word at this moment?

So, it’s not that they don’t recognize each other, but that they can’t recognize each other.

Ling Shumo confirmed with him again and again whether he liked painting and wanted to be a painter. He just wanted to know whether he was still willing to follow his previous path, and even wanted him to achieve his wish with his left hand.

Maybe one day, when the left hand becomes stronger and the memory is recalled, everyone will be able to accept it.

Now thinking about this, he could only suppress the feelings hidden in his heart...

Then, Bai Wan glared at the boy with a fierce look, whispered in his ear and raised his fist:

"I'm warning you, if you tell anyone that I saw her, I'll call all the hooligans in Baiyun City here and beat you like a dog's head!"

The little boy was really scared by this.

He is indeed a rogue as the rumors say.

At this moment, Bai Wan's heart shuddered, and suddenly a deep idea came to his mind.

He turned around and went back to the house, then walked straight into Ling Shumo's room...