Rebirth Merchant: Wonderful Space Hunting for Military Officer

"If you are really friends, you should leave the dormitory, leave the first class, and leave his sight."

Even if she knew that Fu Tonger had no ill intentions, but her arrogance and contempt for others was really unpleasant.

Song Ye probably also understands that this is a lady from an aristocratic family nurtured by the Meng family, and arrogance and dominance are both personalities cultivated by the environment.

However, "If you want to order someone, you can go back and tell Meng Ziheng, Shi Yigao, I got a scholarship and paid the dormitory money, you don't seem to have the right to order me." She Song Ye is not a servant of the Meng family, so she does not eat her set.

Hearing this, Fu Tong'er could hardly restrain the sarcastic smile on the corner of her mouth, "What qualifications do you have to compare with Ziheng, and what can you compare with the Meng family? I'm here to give you a piece of advice, you will be the best after listening to it. Well, if you don't listen, I won't protect you if anything happens in the future. I've said it all, you can do it yourself."

The voice fell, and without waiting for Song Ye to respond, she turned around and left, leaving only a slender and elegant back.

Song Ye blinked, remembering in a trance that this was the first time someone took a step forward, and he couldn't help but sighed, feeling that masculinity was harmful.

After the field survival training and Meng Ziheng's words, the Meng family really came to the door, and Song Ye felt that the troubles in the future would continue.

Returning to the dormitory in the evening, after taking a shower, he came out. Seeing Meng Ziheng standing in front of the desk uncharacteristically, Song Ye stood by the door and wiped his hair for three minutes before walking over to release someone's immobilization spell.

"You face the four treasures of the study every day, why don't you go to the playground to run laps when you have time." Song Ye glanced at Dan Qing in his pen, and secretly sighed that this person is very strong at a young age, but his physical strength is too poor, just like an ancient scholar, The hand has no power to tie the chicken.

Song Ye's original intention was to let him go out to relax and find inspiration, but he never wanted to scare the contemplative Meng Ziheng. The latter trembled, the brush flicked, and a drop of ink splattered on the rice paper.

Forehead……

Song Ye looked down at the drawing paper, and suddenly felt a little embarrassed, "Cough, sorry." Next time he likes to stand for as long as he likes, she won't be too busy.

"Well...it doesn't matter, it's not your fault." Meng Ziheng reacted, but heaved a sigh of relief, dropped his brush, and was a little disappointed, "It's a fly in the ointment, and it's useless to keep it."

Um? Song Ye looked down at the drawing paper again, "I think it's pretty good." In front of this picture of a hundred birds facing the phoenix, the birds gathered under the plane tree, the phoenix held its head in nirvana, and every stroke of the brush showed a good foundation, it was she. This layman also felt very spiritual when he saw it.

But Mencius always thought it was not perfect.

He likes to be alone when he paints, thinks hard, and shows the unfinished danqing like today because the double dormitory is unavoidable, and he sees Song Ye's clear eyes, and he is not disgusted. Leaning on the window sill, he lowered his eyes and pointed to a blank space on the drawing paper: "Although a hundred birds and a phoenix attract people's attention, the most important thing for the painter is the artistic conception. out of mood.”

Mood, this thing sounds like a very mysterious thing.

Song Ye is not an almighty genius, and he has only seen a few more works of great gods about Huaxia's danqing skills. He is completely a layman. After listening to the explanation for a long time, he roughly understands that Meng Ziheng is thinking about the background of this painting.

If there is only a subject without a background, the painting will lose its charm. She still understands this.

Song Ye looked down at the blank space at the top left of the drawing paper, there was only a little ink left on it, which was dropped by mistake when she scared Meng Ziheng just now.

Originally, this point was enough to destroy a painting, but Song Ye stared at the little trace, but he had an idea in his heart.

"Do you mind if I change it?" Before starting, she raised her eyes and asked Meng Ziheng.

Meng Ziheng was stunned for a moment, but he was a little curious, "What do you think?"

Hearing this, Song Ye took a clean brush from the pen holder and tapped it into the brush wash next to the inkstone.

Meng Ziheng was stunned, thinking that Song Ye had dipped the ink in the wrong place, and was about to speak to remind, but suddenly saw that the fault in Song Ye's hand fell on the drop of the bad pen on the paper, the water stain was a little wet, and suddenly After absorbing the ink, pressing the pen down and pulling it horizontally, a light gray trace instantly appeared on the drawing paper.

There are traces of ink in the brush wash, but the color is light, and it looks a little gray. When Dan Qing paints, he often uses this technique to outline the hazy beauty of the mountain after the rain.

And Song Ye made a stroke, slashing open the blank space in the upper left corner, followed by a second stroke, and a third fusion, gradually embellishing a light gray on it.

When Meng Ziheng, a master of Danqing, saw Song Ye's plan when he saw the second stroke, he straightened his body abruptly, and stared solemnly at the place where she wrote.

In the end, when the fourth stroke fell, his hand involuntarily grasped Song Ye's small hand, and in the latter's slight stiffness, he didn't notice it at all: "Your technique is too rough, the clouds are dotted to see It seems simple, but it actually requires a strong foundation, even if you can see the direction of the light, you still can't express the layering of the clouds, like this, you have to be slow here to soften the clouds, and fast here to strengthen the layers."

As Meng Ziheng spoke, the pen under his hand quickly flew up and down the drawing paper. In the field he was proud of, he no longer looked like a brat, arrogant and alienated. He was full of patient explanations, low and gentle. The voice, everywhere reveals the enthusiasm and devotion to painting.

With his movements, Song Ye also saw that the random graffiti under his subordinates turned into distinctly layered clouds in the sky, and even the light and dark were clearly visible.

In this way, the picture displayed from under my own hands feels extraordinarily fresh and interesting.

"Hey, that's it." A sigh came from the ear, but this time it was full of satisfaction, Meng Ziheng looked at the overall effect on the paper, and Qing Jun couldn't help but smile, "This is a A complete painting."

After sighing, he realized later that he and Song Ye were in the same position, the large palms, the soft little hands were slightly cold, and they were tightly wrapped by him. Bang, the heart suddenly lost its rhythm.

"Sorry, it was me who was abrupt." He released his hand hastily, took a half step back, lowered his eyes and dared not look at the boy again.

Song Ye was a little shocked just now, but when she saw that Mencius was more flustered than herself, she chuckled lightly, "Hehe, this is not ancient, and there is no need for crepe." She always felt a sense of time travel in front of Meng Ziheng, This person seems to be living in ancient times.