Chapter 17 Painting in the Hall

"Beidousheng, do you really bully me? How dare you find a martial artist to copy the painting of a saint?

Yan Dongsheng jumped high from the chair, his face was blue, and a pair of triangular eyes opened angrily, like a frog staring at him.

Although the martial arts style is flourishing in Wuwangcheng, since ancient times, literature and martial arts have been light, especially literati. Most of the guys who practice martial arts don't care. In their opinion, no matter how powerful the guy with a knife is, they are just rude people who don't understand literature and reason.

Nowadays, they regard it as the most sacred cultural exchange competition and is disturbed by a martial artist. Yan Dongsheng feels that this is simply a disgrace.

In other words, he Beidousheng didn't pay attention to himself at all.

"Mr. Beidou" was also stunned. He was about to paint with a pen, but he didn't expect that a hairy boy would suddenly appear, and he was also a martial artist.

"Old Yan, don't insult anyone. I don't know this person." Mr. Beidou's face turned pale, and he asked Wu Pengwei with his fists, "May I ask why this guy came here? This is our communication in the painting industry. I hope you don't disturb me."

He said very politely, which means that if you are coming to see the bustle, please stay away. If you are not watching the bustle, please go home.

Wu Pengwei said with a smile and said, "I heard that there is a sequence of news, but I haven't heard that painting also depends on people. Can't I draw and practice calligraphy? I don't know which rule this is."

"This..."

Mr. Beidou didn't expect this young man's words to be so sharp that he was stunned for a while.

It was this stunned kung fu. Wu Pengwei smiled indifferently, and his figure shuttled through the crowd like a water wave. He came to the desk like a ghost. He skillfully took out the brush on it and was stained with thick ink and was about to write.

At this time, Yan Dongsheng, who stared like a toad, jumped up and shouted, "It's insulting, Pifu dare!"

Unexpectedly, Wu Pengwei's eyes tightened, shot like a sword, and shouted in a low voice, "Shut up."

Yan Dongsheng was shocked and swallowed his words again.

However, at least he is an old man who has seen the world. He has a bad temper and is used to it. After being stunned, he wants to have an attack, but as soon as he wanted to curse, his throat seemed to be stuck by an iron pliers. A cold and deep voice sounded in his ear: "My master tells you to shut up. If you dare to spit out half a word, I will kill him. You."

Aoki's murderous spirit penetrated into Yan Dongsheng's skin like a snake. Although he was stubborn, it did not mean that he was not afraid of death, and he suddenly stopped talking.

The literati beside him were suddenly silent, and no one dared to say anything.

And Wu Pengwei just held the pen full of thick ink and paused in the air. His eyes narrowed slightly, staring at the "Canghai Tide Map" not far away, as if it was frozen.

Everyone was stunned for a moment and didn't know what he was doing.

The thick ink on the tip of the brush was as full as a drop of water, and it was about to drip down. Then, everyone heard Wu Pengwei say a word.

"The east is facing the sea, in order to see the stone."

This is the inflict of Chen Daozi at the bottom of the left side of the "Canghai Tide Picture". At the end of the sound, Wu Pengwei's pen fell like flying.

Everyone only saw him turning his wrists and lifting the pen, and the pen was walking around the dragon, and the way of painting was even more strange.

When it comes to painting, you must first pull out the frame, such as this "sea tide map", which should first outline the sea, then render the waves, and finally decorate the reefs in it, first lay out, and then moisten it. This is the most natural truth.

But Wu Pengwei is different from others. He actually looks like painting the wall from left to right, full of layman style.

A group of popular people blow their beards and stare.

"I thought he was a son of a family and knew how to draw. Now it seems that he is clearly a husband and doesn't know how to move the pen at all."

"Yes, you can see that his posture of holding the pen is not necessarily the same. The distance between his little finger and his index finger has never moved. He doesn't understand the essence of the brush method at all. He even dares to make a fool in public. He is really a reckless man."

"Yes, he didn't use any of the points, presses, wipes and picks in the brush. Oh, my God, where did this come from the market scoundrel? It's a humiliation and a great shame. Hurry up and report to the City Defense Department and arrest this guy."

Everyone has different opinions. What Wu Pengwei said is not worth it. If it hadn't been for the powerless, it would have been that they would not have been able to beat the iron waves like an iron bucket in front of him and Chen Tian, Wang Heng and others with a ruffian face. They would have gone up and worked hard.

"Hey, bamboo pole, what did you say the four elders were doing?" Tie Zhulang stared at the crowd angrily, but asked Chen Tian beside him in a low voice.

Chen Tian was also looking sideways at the crowd, with a fierce face. Hearing Tie Zhulang's inquiry, he replied angrily, "You ask me, who should I go? Look at the posture of the four elders. I think nine out of ten people are full and idle."

Wang Heng said, "Don't comment on the right and wrong of the elders. It's not the rules."

The first two rolled his big white eyes at the same time.

No one can guess what Wu Pengwei is doing.

The noise of everyone can't enter Wu Pengwei's mind.

At this moment, he has long been immersed in the wonderful state of drawing silk and peeling cocoon.

"Canghai Chaosheng Map" is indeed an ancient masterpiece, and the former pilgrim Chen Daozi is indeed a rare wizard in the painting world. According to the analysis of the mental method of drawing silk and peeling cocoons, this picture is simply the most accurate digital superposition.

The world only knows the holy hand in Chen Daozi's painting, but they don't know that Chen Daozi is an arithmetic genius.

The biggest reason why "Canghai Tide Map" has been famous for thousands of years is that Chen Daozi has many arithmetic mysteries in his paintings, such as the superposition angle of waves, analogy of ups and downs, and the order of reef arrangement are all a digital game.

And it happens to produce a strange charm by calculating the superimposed famous paintings, so that it is always difficult for others to achieve the true meaning no matter how they copy it. Often the brushwork and momentum are enough, but the drawings are non-of-congrual.

There are countless wizards in the painting world, which can be called a work of spitting blood.

Naturally, what you spit is the blood of the copied person.

And Wu Pengwei is also a good player in arithmetic, and he happens to have certain achievements in painting.

When Wu Pengwei used the heart method of drawing silk and peeling cocoon to the extreme, these numbers naturally appeared in his mind.

Therefore, in the eyes of others, it is extremely complicated, and the mysterious "Canghai Chaosheng Map" is just a digital game in Wu Pengwei's eyes.

One number after another digital mystery is solved, and when cracking, Wu Pengwei only needs to add and outline waves and reefs according to these cracked digital principles, which is enough. Others think that there are countless techniques, but he only needs to add, subtract, multiply and divide.

The vertical pen is flying, like a craftsman painting.

When everyone grew up and criticized one by one, Wu Pengwei copied it silently.

Finally, when he finished the last outline, he was so happy that he dropped the pen in his hand to the ground.

The picture scroll unfolded in the air, and everyone immediately closed their mouths.

One by one, they were stunned.

The two paintings are connected together, almost the same, and there is no difference.

Whether it is Shen Yun or the brushwork, even the momentum is carved like a mold.

"Mother, what's going on?" A scribe in a green robe was stunned and blurted out in his hometown dialect.

The happiest is Wang Qi.

Although the boy's eyes are small, he is very thieves. He grabbed the scholar who mocked him in the crowd and said with a ferocious smile, "Point, extrude, rub, splash, control and press six strokes, right? Eleven powerful reefs, right? I'm a martial artist, I don't understand these elegance, right?"

The scribe's heart trembled when he smiled, but the reason why he looked down on others before was untenable. For a moment, he didn't know how to reply, and the barely squeezed smile was worse than crying.

"Fuck, now that my boss has made this painting, what should you do?" Wang Qi shouted in a low voice, with a pair of small round eyes, grinning like a fierce dog.

The scribes are shocked. He often sees this look. Most of the little hooligans fighting and blackmailing on the street are so scary. He took out a amount of broken silver from his arms and stuffed it into Wang Qi's arms.

Wang Qi immediately let go of his hand, smiled happily, patted the other party on the shoulder, and praised, "After all, it's the brain of a scholar, but it turns quickly."

........................

At this time, Aoki had loosened his hand holding Yan Dongsheng's throat, quietly retreated three steps behind Wu Pengwei, put his hand into his sleeve, and stood with his head down.

Yan Dongsheng trembled and walked to the two paintings. The toad performed his magic skills again, and his eyes opened angrily. He looked at the painting from left to right from top to bottom, smelled and smelled it. Finally, he fell to the ground and spit out a big mouthful of blood.

The disciples under the door quickly came forward to help him. He only heard the old man look up to the sky and sigh: "I'm losing my blood!"

Everyone was stunned. Yan Dongsheng was in a coma. The disciple slapped his mouth and was in a hurry.

Wu Pengwei's pen is on the ground, and his heart is indescribably refreshing. Usually, he has few friends. Even Wang Heng is mostly a rough one. Not to mention astronomical and geographical arithmetic, they will have a headache if they read more at the writing.

I can only entertain myself all day long. It is rare that I can meet a senior arithmetic master in copying paintings today, and finally solve his puzzles. The pleasure is beyond words.

At this time, Mr. Beidou beside him came over quickly and laughed with his fists: "I thought you were here to make trouble, but now I know that you are a real master. Beidou is reckless and doesn't know Mount Tai. Please talk about it later."

Wu Pengwei smiled faintly.

The two came to the back hall, and their own disciples sent the "Canghai Chaosheng Picture" and Chen Daozi's brushes.

Mr. Beidou stroked the brush and sighed: "It is said that this pen is born with a fragrance of ink, which can calm people's minds. For those of us who play pen and ink all day long, it is like a treasure. If you get him, I hope you can cherish it."

He looked reluctant, but he was just a Confucian tycoon, and it was inconvenient to show greed.

Wu Pengwei smiled and waved his hand and said, "Why don't you give it to your husband?"

Beidousheng was overjoyed at first, but then his face became solemn again.