"Uncle Zheng, don't worry, I will finish the follow-up story soon."
Sun Mo promised.
People called him "little friend" and they were still his fans. They were so generous, so Sun Mo changed his words and used an honorific.
"That's good!"
Zheng Qingfang drank a drink happily and continued to persuade: "But the money still has to be accepted. Don't worry, this money will not be included in the manuscript fee. I will also print a thousand, no, three thousand copies, and then sell the money.
, excluding costs and fees, it’s all yours.”
"Isn't this not good?"
Sun Mo frowned, Zheng Qingfang had worked for him in vain.
"What's wrong? Such a wonderful novel must be seen by everyone, otherwise it will be a pearl covered in dust and a waste of resources."
Zheng Qingfang spoke righteously, but as for money, he didn't mention a word.
As a high-ranking official, Zheng Qingfang had no shortage of money. What he lacked was the place to spend money.
After watching "Journey to the West", Zheng Qingfang immediately fell in love with the Monkey King and the holy monk Tripitaka. If he did not benefit others, he would not be able to sleep well.
Zheng Qingfang has already decided that when the book is printed, he will send it to dozens of friends first, otherwise they will definitely blame themselves for getting a good thing but keeping it to themselves without telling everyone.
"Congratulations, you have gained your first loyal fan!"
System ridicule.
"Then why don't you give me a reward?"
Sun Moxin said, I will write my own stuff for the next book.
System ‘hehe’.
"Okay, as a man you have to be more generous and don't push yourself around for a few taels of silver."
Zheng Qingfang made the final decision.
Seeing that Zheng Qingfang was indeed impatient and that he really wanted to give it to him, Sun Mo made a toast: "Thank you Uncle Zheng for your kindness, but I will be disrespectful!"
"Too many etiquettes, troublesome!"
Zheng Qingfang frowned and waved his hand: "Be free and easy!"
What else could Sun Mo say? His die-hard fans are so unreasonable and crazy!
The topic between the two of them always revolved around learning from the West, and Zheng Qingfang wanted to empty out all the plots in Sun Mo's stomach.
Lu Zhiruo sat obediently next to him, not interrupting or breathing loudly. She could only be seen when refilling the wine.
"By the way, if it's going to be published, it needs to be illustrated. Do you have any ideas?"
Zheng Qingfang asked.
This was the first time he had seen this type of novel, and the four masters and apprentices were so stylish that Zheng Qingfang was worried that the painter he hired would not be able to grasp the essence of the characters.
Sun Mo perked up: "How many pictures do you want?"
"It depends on the content, but I definitely need portraits of each character."
Zheng Qingfang has been in the officialdom for so many years and has long been a master. Looking at Sun Mo's expression, he guessed what he was thinking: "Sun Xiaoyou is a famous teacher. He must be versatile and has dabbled in painting, right?"
"good!"
Sun Moxin said that in the morning, I could draw a picture of a chicken eating rice, but no one else could understand it except myself. But now, after I have mastered painting, I can be a master in the branch of Chinese painting called "figure" painting.
What a master.
"Why do you have to be humble? My peerless master teacher system is shameless?"
The system was unhappy: "Tell him loudly that you are a master of Chinese painting!"
"Oh? How many days will it take to complete the manuscript?"
Zheng Qingfang couldn't wait. The illustrations drawn by the original author must be the ones that best embody the essence of the novel.
"Now?"
Sun Mo next had to prepare lessons and teach the first public class, so he didn't have time to run to Yulaixuan Bookstore.
"ah?"
Zheng Qing almost looked suspicious and asked if you could do it. Isn't it necessary to draw illustrations?
"You should have pen, ink, paper and inkstone here, right?"
Sun Mo has read too many works and derivative works about Journey to the West. Those characters have already existed in his mind without having to conceive them.
"You really don't need to brew?"
Zheng Qingfang asked his old servant who had been with him for more than ten years to prepare pens, inks, paper and inkstones. Forget it, let Sun Mo draw. The original author still had to give him face.
Besides, if that doesn't work, it's not too late to find a skilled painter yourself.
The long table was set up, and pens, inks, paper and inkstones were all ready. The old servant did not step back, but took two steps back and stood by the side, ready to serve at any time.
Regardless of the two steps back, they are just right, neither too close to disturb the guests, nor too far away to make the guests feel that they are being treated poorly.
If you weren't from a big family, you wouldn't be able to practice it.
This is the so-called heritage of a big family, and every detail shows it.
Lu Zhiruo spent her time grinding out ink and became a maid.
Sun Mo picked up the brush, originally thinking it would be unfamiliar, but after a few breaths, a familiar feeling suddenly emerged, as if he had been writing from the heart for more than ten years.
After dipping his hand in ink, Sun Mo put pen to paper.
For the first character, Sun Mo chose Zhu Bajie, and Quan should practice writing.
The master's "figure painting" painting technique allowed Sun Mo to really draw whatever he wanted without any errors.
For the first character, Sun Mo chose Zhu Bajie to practice his brushwork, and the effect was far better than he imagined.
Zheng Qingfang saw a monster with a pig's head and a body carrying a nine-tooth rake appear, and the plot about Zhu Bajie suddenly came to mind.
Vivid, vivid, and more artistic.
"good!"
After Zheng Qingfang praised Sun Mo, he couldn't help but look at Sun Mo.
This young man, who was only twenty years old, did not expect that he would already have such high attainments in Chinese painting.
Doesn't he want to become a famous painter?
Thinking of this, Zheng Qingfang felt a little pity. After all, the social status of famous painters was just that, far less noble than the famous teachers who taught the way of cultivation.
Sun Mo didn't notice Zheng Qingfang's gaze. He was completely immersed in the pleasure of painting. If the situation wasn't right, he really wanted to draw a picture of Mr. Hatano without any clothes.
There's nothing I can do about it, Sun Mo doesn't even recognize the person wearing clothes!
One! Two! Three!
Sha Wujing! Ancestor Bodhi! Little White Dragon!
Sun Mo's paintings are so enjoyable. It's like a game you just bought or a short movie you just downloaded. How can you go out to eat without enjoying it for a while?
Lu Zhiruo and Zheng Qingfang also enjoyed watching it, with the plot whizzing out in their minds. Even the old servant standing next to him couldn't help but stand on tiptoes and look at the rice paper on the table.
These characters are painted with charm, as if they are about to jump out of the page!
When the moon rises above the willow branches, the ninth portrait depicts the scene of the blazing-eyed Monkey King stepping over the alchemy furnace.
“Awesome!”
Zheng Qingfang finally couldn't help it and clapped his hands in praise.
This Sun Dasheng is so vividly painted, with that sharp, domineering, and unruly aura coming to his face.
"yes!"
Lu Zhiruo nodded hurriedly.
"Draw the last picture and then rest!"
Sun Mo moved his wrists and neck, feeling a little tired.
"Draw another picture of Master Tripitaka?"
Lu Zhiruo begged softly.
"good!"
Sun Mo started writing. This time, he chose Tripitaka from Journey to the West. He was no longer wearing a gorgeous cassock, and his body was covered in dust.
Holding the white horse and the nine-ringed tin staff, he trudged hard against the wind and sand.
As he was drawing, Sun Mo thought of his schooling journey, and how he established a foothold in the city's No. 2 Middle School after graduation, rising to prominence step by step, and finally became a gold medal teacher in the high school department, deeply appreciated by the old principal.
Now, after arriving in the Tang Kingdom of Zhongzhou, it was impossible to say that he missed home. But thinking about Li Ziqi, Lu Zhiruo, and several newly admitted students, Sun Mo suddenly became full of pride again.
If they trust themselves, they must teach them well so that they will not let them down.
A soft-boiled person?
Graduated from a rubbish school?
He has no talent and is just an ordinary person who should live an ordinary life for the rest of his life?
Just wait and see!
I will soon become the first famous teacher in the school, the first famous teacher in Jinling, and the first famous teacher in Jiangnan...
Am I not worthy of An Hui?
One day I will ask you to change your story and say that Anhui Anhui climbed up to me!
Sun Mo's pen moves like a dragon and a snake, and he splashes ink with his brush.
Tripitaka’s Journey to the West is gradually taking shape.
During these days, Sun Mo was called a free-for-all by those people, and received countless rolls of eyes and slanders from behind. He seemed open-minded and didn't care, but deep down, he was unhappy after all.
Sun Mo was waiting for an opportunity, an opportunity to prove himself.
"Since I have come to Middle-earth, and since I am still a teacher, I must be the best and prove that I am stronger, better, and more powerful than you natives of Kyushu!"
Sun Mo ran away from China, but he was still a young man at heart!
The blood is not cold yet, the ambition is not gone!
When you encounter slander and contempt, just fuck them, fuck them hard, until they are full of teeth and shut their mouths completely.
The spiritual energy from all around gathered at the tip of the pen, and adhered to the scroll with Sun Mo's strokes.
"This...this is...the realm of wonderful writing?"
Zheng Qingfang exclaimed in surprise.
The so-called wonderful brush strokes are a state that can only be mastered by famous painters, and it is also a wonderful scene.
The paintings painted by the artist seem to be real. When you look at them, your mind will be swayed and intoxicated.
There are three realms of writing and writing.
Thirdly, the whole painting is lifelike. Because of the adhesion of spiritual energy, it is no longer a black and white ink paper color, but becomes colorful, revealing a strong atmosphere.
As soon as people see it, they can't help but stop and stop looking away.
The second level is when the appreciator is infected by the artistic conception displayed in the painting, loses control of his emotions without realizing it, becomes obsessed, hesitant, fond, painful, and becomes intoxicated by the painting, wanting to keep it as his own and treasure it.
The first level is also the highest level of a famous painter.
The viewer is completely immersed in the painting, as if he has become the person in the painting, experiencing everything about him and understanding his life.
At this time, they have ignored the passage of time and stopped to watch, often for days and nights, intoxicated and unable to extricate themselves.
Zheng Qingfang had heard that there were a few paintings handed down from ancient times that ordinary people could not look at at all, because once they looked at them, they could no longer look away, as if their souls had been invested in the paintings, and the whole person became in a daze, and could only do nothing all day long.