"If you are really friends, you should leave the dormitory, leave the first grade class, and stay out of his sight."
Even though she knew Fu Tong'er had no ill intentions, her condescending and contemptuous tone made people really dislike her.
Song Ye probably also understood that this was a young lady from an aristocratic family nurtured by the Meng family. Her arrogance and domineering personality were both traits cultivated by the environment.
However, "If you want to order people, you can go back and tell Meng Ziheng, Shi Yigao, I got a scholarship and paid for the dormitory, but you don't seem to have the right to order me." She, Song Ye, is not a slave of the Meng family. set.
Hearing this, Fu Tong'er could hardly restrain the sarcastic smile on her lips, "What qualifications do you have to compare with Zi Heng, and how 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." Okay, if you don't listen, I won't protect you no matter what happens in the future. I'll tell you this, so you can take care of yourself."
After her words fell, without waiting for Song Ye's response, she turned around and left, leaving only a slender and elegant back.
Song Ye blinked his eyes, vaguely remembering that this was the first time someone had taken the first step, and couldn't help but sigh helplessly, lamenting that men are harmful to others.
Following the wilderness survival training, after Meng Ziheng said something, the Meng family really came to visit, and Song Ye felt that the troubles in the future would continue.
When I returned to the dormitory in the evening and came out after taking a shower, I saw Meng Ziheng standing in front of the desk uncharacteristically without moving. Song Ye stood by the door and wiped his hair for three minutes before walking over to remove someone's binding spell.
"You face the four treasures of the study every day, why not go to the playground and run laps when you have time." Song Ye glanced at the paintings he painted and secretly lamented that this man was quite powerful at a young age, but his physical strength was too poor, just like an ancient scholar. My hands are powerless to restrain a chicken.
Song Ye originally intended for him to go out to relax and find inspiration, but he never wanted to scare Meng Ziheng who was deep in thought. The latter's body trembled, his brush shook, and a drop of ink splashed onto the rice paper.
Forehead…
Song Ye lowered his head and looked at the drawing paper, and suddenly felt a little embarrassed, "Ahem, sorry." Next time he stood for as long as he liked, she wouldn't be too troublesome.
"Hmm... It doesn't matter, it's not your fault." Meng Ziheng reacted, but he sighed dejectedly, dropped the brush, and said with a lack of interest, "It's a fly in the ointment, and it's useless to keep it."
Um? Song Ye lowered his head and looked at the drawing paper again, "I think it's pretty good." The picture of a hundred birds facing the phoenix in front of her, a flock of birds gathering under the sycamore tree, the phoenix rising from nirvana and raising its head, and every stroke of her brushstrokes showed her outstanding skills. It was her When this layman saw it, he felt it was extremely spiritual.
But Meng Ziheng always believed that it was not perfect.
He likes to be alone when painting, thinking hard. The reason why he showed his unfinished paintings like today is because he can't avoid the double dormitory. Moreover, he doesn't feel disgusted when he sees Song Ye's clear eyes. Seeing that she is confused now, on the contrary, he Leaning on the window sill, he lowered his eyes and pointed at a blank space on the drawing paper and said: "A hundred birds facing the phoenix is certainly eye-catching, but what the painter should consider most is the artistic conception. I just drew the subject in the air, but there is no way to fictionalize it. Out of artistic conception.”
Artistic conception, this thing sounds very mysterious.
Song Ye was not an all-around genius. He had only seen a few works of masters in Chinese painting techniques. He was a complete layman. After listening to the explanation for a long time, he roughly understood that Meng Ziheng was conceived of the background of this painting.
If there is only a subject without a background, the painting will be monotonous and lose its charm. She still understands this.
Song Ye lowered her eyes and looked at the blank space on the upper left side of the drawing paper. There was only a little ink stain left on it, which she accidentally dropped when she scared Meng Ziheng just now.
Originally, this was enough to ruin a painting, but Song Ye stared at the undried traces and had an idea in his mind.
"Do you mind if I change it?" Before doing anything, she raised her eyes and asked Meng Ziheng.
Meng Ziheng was stunned for a moment, but he was a little curious, "What do you want?"
Hearing this, Song Ye took a clean brush from the pen holder and lit it in the brush wash next to the inkstone.
Meng Ziheng was startled, thinking that Song Ye had dipped the ink in the wrong place. He was about to remind him, but suddenly he saw that the mistake in Song Ye's hand fell on the drop of failed pen on the paper. The water stain was a little moist, and it suddenly became After absorbing the ink, he pressed down on the pen tip and pulled it horizontally, and a light gray mark instantly appeared on the drawing paper.
There are traces of ink in the brush wash, but the color is light and looks a little light gray. When Danqing is painting, he often uses this technique to outline the hazy beauty of the mountains after rain.
And Song Ye made one stroke, boldly opening up the blank space in the upper left corner, followed by a second stroke of light tap, and a third stroke of fusion, gradually embellishing it with a piece of light gray.
Meng Ziheng, a master of painting, had already realized Song Ye's plan when he saw the second stroke. He straightened up suddenly and stared at the place where she wrote with a serious face.
Finally, when he finished the fourth stroke, his hand had involuntarily grasped Song Ye's little hand. Amidst the slight stiffness of the latter, he said without noticing: "Your technique is too rough, and the clouds dotted the look." It seems simple, but in fact it 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 need to be slow here to make the clouds soft, and here you need to be fast to strengthen the layers."
As Meng Ziheng spoke, the pen under his hand quickly began to write on the drawing paper. In his proud field, he no longer seemed like a young boy, arrogant and distant. He explained patiently and spoke in a low and gentle tone. The voice is full of enthusiasm and devotion to painting.
And as he moved, Song Ye also saw that the random graffiti of his hand gradually turned into distinct clouds in the sky, and even the light and dark were clearly visible.
The picture displayed from under my own hands feels particularly fresh and interesting.
"Hey, okay." A soft sigh came from his ears, but this time it was filled with satisfaction. Meng Ziheng looked at the overall effect presented on the paper, and a smile appeared on his handsome face, "This is what happened. A complete painting."
After sighing, he belatedly realized the posture between himself and Song Ye. His soft little hands were slightly cold in his broad palms, tightly wrapped by him. The fresh fragrance of the young man who had just bathed entered his nose, bang. Bang, my heart suddenly lost its rhythm.
"Sorry, I was abrupt." He hurriedly let go of his hand and took half a step back, lowering his eyes and not daring to look at the boy again.
Song Ye was a little shocked just now, but when she saw that Meng Ziheng was more panicked than herself, she chuckled softly, "Haha, this is not ancient times, so there is no need for formality." She always felt that she had a sense of time travel when facing Meng Ziheng, This person seems to be living in ancient times.