Chapter 33: I am the number one when I make a painting with one point! (3)
"Hand in!" She jumped to the ground, plucked Qing'er's calligraphy on the ground with her chubby little hands, and then exchanged a ghost-like thing she had written, making it clear that she was cheating and sneaking into Chencang.
How could anyone be as upright as she is?
"Hmm..." He tilted his head and thought for a while, as if there was still one more painting left. Then he picked up the brush, dipped a little ink on it, and put it in the middle of the blank rice paper. "OK! It's done! The first place belongs to me."
Qing'er had a smile in her eyes, the little guy didn't want to just hand it over.
He guessed correctly, Xiao Bihe really took Qing'er's calligraphy as his own, and then handed over the painting with only one black dot.[
Finally, she said again and again, I want to be number one, and you must give it to me.
When the organizers looked at what she handed in, they all had grimaces and pretended to smile. What should I say? Calligraphy is not surprising at first, but even a three-year-old child can understand the painting that is called a painting.
"I just want to get first place. My dad said that if I come to participate in the competition, I will definitely get first place?" The little guy shouted, and even the prime minister's father moved out.
When the person in charge heard that it was the Prime Minister who asked her to participate, he did not dare to neglect it and hurriedly said, "Yes, yes, yes, she must be the first." The Prime Minister wanted to be the first, who among them would dare not to give it?
"Do you think my painting is good?"
"Good! Very good!" A group of painters praised Xiao Bihe's words repeatedly.
This made her so happy! She held her painting high and looked like she was admiring it so much that she almost fainted with laughter. These people were talking about fairness and equality, but they were not all following others' opinions.
Please.
Gradually, she stopped smiling, pointed at a thin middle-aged man beside her and said, "Tell me, what's so good about my painting?"
Suddenly, there was a boo.
What's so good about this painting?
Even if it is not as good as garbage, it is not considered a painting at all.
At best, it is just a piece of white paper with a black dot.
A group of people in the audience were watching the show to see if they could answer the questions raised by a fool, they would be nothing more than clowns.