Immortal Immortal

Life in the calligraphy and painting hall is very boring, and it has lasted for a month without knowing it.

As a painter's apprentice, Li Mo can only work in the lobby and the wing.

Only formal painters can have access to the practice, resulting in the vast majority of apprentices being eliminated as handymen.

What the calligraphy and painting hall teaches is also the most basic painting skills, occasionally mixed with some common sense about the eight meridians, but it is not in-depth.

If the atmosphere hadn't been depressing, Li Mo would have had the illusion of being in a Niujiacun school.

He had long been accustomed to the routine of the calligraphy and painting hall. When the beast's roar that vaguely sounded every night ended, he would naturally wake up from his bed.

The wing room was definitely better than the place where I first came to the pawn shop, but the furnishings were also extremely simple, and four people shared a room.

Painters and apprentices seldom communicate with each other. Li Mo tried to get clues from others, but the information he could get was limited.

Li Mo still doesn't understand how spiritual practice can involve painting, and he even openly treats painting skills as an assessment.

He just knows.

The apprentices in the studio are basically selected from the children of the residents of Rong Town, so they are more or less familiar with the matters of practicing the method.

Li Mo relied on insinuations and memories revealed from time to time in the Book of Creation, and he managed to gain some confidence in his practice.

He also thought about branding his organs, but he gave up the idea after hearing that the steward himself taught him the technique after he became a painter.

The sky was slightly bright, and the chill of late autumn enveloped the calligraphy and painting hall.

Li Mo lifted off the quilt and stood up, stretching his muscles and bones with bare feet in the room. His heart beat faster, recovering his body temperature like a cold-blooded animal.

The painter apprentices in the same room woke up one after another.

Li Mo also recognized Zeng Xiaoyi among them. The latter was nearly nineteen years old, and the late-stage death disease was beginning to erode his body.

He walked out of the wing first and walked quickly toward the lobby in the dim candlelight.

Li Mo understood that it was almost time for him to get involved in spiritual practice. He was close to a fatal disease, so it would definitely be unwise to continue hiding his weakness.

When he came to the lobby, there were already many painter apprentices studying ink.

A painter named Liu Qin was walking in the lobby. He looked to be in his forties, with a slender body, except for his right leg, which was bloated and blue.

She only has routine duties and will be replaced by another painter every other month.

Li Mo chose a position near the corner, picked up the weight stone to press the rice paper, poured some water on the inkstone, and took out the ink stick from his arms.

Inkstones, brushes and other items are all ready-made, and if they are damaged, you can ask the painter for help.

Only the ink sticks must be kept alone.

The ink stick was only about the size of a finger, but weighed three kilograms. Li Mo didn't know what was mixed in it, and the resulting ink had a special rusty smell, which was pungent and unpleasant.

Li Mo's printing speed was neither too fast nor too slow.

He felt that he had a photographic memory, and his body was transforming in a subtle way.

Li Mo has a photographic memory and has a skillful composition ability. In addition, he has seen paintings by famous artists in his previous life. As long as he can keep up with the coordination of his hands, it is not difficult to get rid of his status as a painter's apprentice.

While he was hibernating this month, he focused on honing his arm control.

Li Mo spent most of the time studying the ink, then picked up the brush and sketched it. After a while, the portrait of the wooden figure appeared on the rice paper.

Then he started grinding ink again, just switching from his right hand to his left hand.

Liu Qin noticed Li Mo's behavior and couldn't help but shake her head. After all, the main thing to evaluate a painter is to copy tigers and beasts, and the wooden man is only used to memorize acupuncture points and meridians.

Li Mo's daily behavior is to repeat the process of painting wooden figures.

Liu Qin has seen the wooden figures painted by Li Mo. The acupuncture points and meridians are accurate, which shows how outstanding his talent in painting is.

It's just a pity...

Liu Qin went to work and closed her eyes to rest, and no longer paid attention to Li Mo.

She occasionally selects a few paintings, but not because of how good the paintings are, but because there is something strange and inexplicable in the paintings.

At this moment, Liu Qin noticed that Li Mo suddenly raised his brush.

This time Li Mo picked a pen with a stick as thin as a long chopstick, and instead of copying the wooden figure over and over again, he began to draw the outline of the tiger beast.

His movements are extremely skillful and his breathing is steady. It is hard to imagine that he has not drawn tigers and beasts for a month, but there is no hesitation at all when he starts writing.

Liu Qin subconsciously approached Li Mo, and her eyes were attracted by the patterns on the rice paper.

Li Mo painted a tiger standing on a rugged rock. Its body is slightly slanted, its eyes are staring into the distance, and the markings on its body are like running water, reflecting the tiger's animal desire.

As the painting took shape, Li Mo realized the weirdness of the ink strips.

The ink strips seem to give life to the tiger, causing the painting to become increasingly unfamiliar. The emaciated tiger in the painting has an indescribable ferocity.

Li Mo imitated the "Tiger Roaring Picture" by Zhang Shanzhu, a master of tiger painting in his previous life. However, perhaps because of the ink strips, it was completely different from the original work, with an indescribable horror.

"What an eye-catching white-fronted insect."

Liu Qin waited until Li Mo stopped writing before speaking, and couldn't help but reveal a hint of complexity.

It wasn't a surprise of being gifted, it felt more like apprehension or fear.

Liu Qin, who was practicing martial arts, actually became afraid of his apprentices. Even if it was only for a moment, he was still caught by Li Mo.

Li Mo realized that the method of pawn shop, calligraphy and painting hall might involve painting.

He understands that hiding clumsiness is useless. Although he cannot show anything different from ordinary people, he must show value, otherwise he will have no foothold.

"Li Mo, you..."

Liu Qin realized that she had lost her composure, so she calmed down and said, "I will bring this painting to Guanshi Hu. It has some charm and should be appreciated by her."

"Thank you, Mr. Liu."

Seeing that his goal was achieved, Li Mo couldn't help but let out a long breath.

The painter apprentices around him fell silent, looking at Li Mo with eyes full of various emotions, including jealousy, envy, and resentment.

Liu Qin picked up the tiger roar picture and left.

Li Mo didn't know if he was mistaken. He noticed that Liu Qin's arm holding the painting was emitting a faint black energy.

The other apprentices couldn't see it at all, probably because of the difference in Li Mo's brain.

The ink on the surface of the tiger's roar is blurred.

In the picture, the gray and black hair of the tiger that comes down the mountain to hunt is gradually disappearing.

The tiger's appearance became more and more unfamiliar, until he finally resembled a naked man lying on the ground, with his tail replaced by an exposed spine.

Li Mo was in a daze, and Liu Qin's fork in the aisle disappeared.

His temples felt swollen, so he packed up his things and returned to the wing.

Li Mo glanced at Zeng Xiaoyi before leaving.

Zeng Xiaoyi collapsed on the chair, his bloody hands staining the rice paper red.

The pawn shop doesn't seem to be selecting suitable cultivation seeds at all. They seem to intend to keep the vast majority of people out.

Li Mo didn't know what it meant, but he would rather die on the road of cultivation than endure the pain and despair of immortality.

For more than ten days after that, he was still busy between the wing room and the calligraphy and painting hall.

But Li Mo never saw Liu Qin again.

[Early today, from now on it will be posted at 8-9pm]

[Thanks to Jiu Shangzhu, Sima Xianqing, Oda Wolong, Wu Xiaolong, Original Fetus, Dada Dada Weiguai, I am the little match seller of boys, rewarded by Shuba. 】