The old blind man paused his painting, his face was expressionless, and his eyes were looking forward blankly.
"Listening to the voice, he is about twenty years old. The confidence in his mouth does not seem to come out of thin air, but there is a sense of vicissitudes in the words. The gap between the age of speech and the age of heart is too big. In such a situation, I am afraid that only the cultivator can By,"
The old blind man's voice was hoarse, hoarse and low, as if the friction of years and the erosion of wind and frost had left deep marks on his voice.
Every word came out of his throat like gravel grinding hoarsely.
This hoarse voice gives people a deep and unique feeling that makes people think and listen.
Chen Xun raised his eyebrows, still looking like he was facing an enemy when he met his opponent.
He did not respond. This old blind man was definitely not an immortal cultivator, but an ordinary mortal.
The old blind man still paused on the painting with the brush in his hand. Even when facing the immortal cultivator, his eyebrows remained calm: "Why don't I paint a painting for the young master? The young master already has an image in my heart."
"Old sir, please." Chen Xun's expression was very calm, and his eyes were very curious. He was still holding the health tea cup in one hand and did not put it away.
The old blind man continued to draw, without taking out new drawing paper, but embellished the original picture with a few strokes. A town and an alley gradually appeared under this landscape and ink painting...
Chen Xun couldn't help being shocked, and his mind couldn't help but be attracted by it. Two figures gradually appeared outside the alley in the painting, and an outline gradually appeared, which was Chen Xun's shadow.
This person's eyes were full of indifference and expressionless, but he was raising his head slightly, as if he was looking up at the world, and as if he was separated from this world and only in the painting, overlooking everything, lonely and calm.
What frightened him the most was that the person in this portrait was actually holding a teacup, which looked like a health-preserving teacup. This person's insight had already been meticulous, and he was a master among masters!
But Chen Xun frowned slightly. This was not like him. The outline of the figure was largely blank, and only his eyes were the most expressive. However, this was not him.
"Sir, wait and see."
"Old sir, have you ever been able to see these mountains and rivers with your eyes?"
"Never saw it."
"...sharp."
Chen Xun took a deep breath. Mortals don't have spiritual consciousness. "Then how did you draw it? To be honest, Mr., I am also good at painting. I have a picture of snowy mountains and rivers that I would like you to appreciate."
"Walk with your feet, touch with your hands, and paint with your heart."
The old blind man responded calmly, neither humble nor arrogant even in the face of a cultivator, "Sir, when it comes to appreciation, I can't see it, and I refute elegance. Don't be offended."
"Old sir, I only know that people cannot imagine things they have never seen before, especially paintings. You have painted them so vividly that they are clearer than my memory of what I have seen."
"Haha, the earth, mountains and rivers all have veins. I have traveled all over the world. Rather than drawing shapes and meanings, it is better to draw veins. You don't need to use your eyes to see it."
The old blind man looked forward with empty eyes and put down his paintbrush. "Both people and all things have a context. If you sketch them bit by bit, the form and meaning will come into being. You don't need to imagine them out of thin air."
Chen Xun's eyes opened slightly, and he gradually raised his gaze from the painting, with a look of horror on his face. He even felt a numb scalp, and his heart was already turned upside down.
The veins of heaven and earth... This kind of realization was only discovered after he broke through the Void Refining Stage and opened the Five Elements Immortal Eyes. He even had to rely on the power of the Five Elements to completely outline a painting.
The old blind man tilted his head slightly and moved his ears slightly: "Look at the expression on the young master's face, but my portrait is wrong?"
"...yes."
"That's not right. Appearances come from the heart, just like mountains and rivers. They change all the time. What is done in the painting can only be retained for a while and cannot be passed down for a lifetime."
"Old sir, what do you mean by this?"
"If a painting can change with the passage of time, just like the veins of mountains and rivers, it can evolve independently. I think the painting will be completed."
"How can this be..."
"Haha, I can't see this world. I just want to paint all the time. I will use my lifespan to use the poor evolution of my painting skills to fill the blank space in my heart and take a look at this world again."
"Old sir, your eyes may be cured."
"Young Master, there is no need. Immortals have immortal ways, and mortals have ordinary ways. I also have a Tao in my heart. After wandering for half a lifetime, I returned to my ancestral land and achieved Tao."
"Congratulations, old gentleman."
"hehe."
"I'll buy you a drink right now."
"Thank you, sir."
The old blind man lowered his empty eyes and began to paint again, vigorously and vigorously. Chen Xun had already gone away, his eyes were full of contemplation, and he was muttering something unknown in his mouth.
At this time, some neighbors passing by were shaking their heads slightly.
The paintings under Chen Xun's eyes slowly collapsed from the perspective of these neighbors. The originally undulating mountains became layerless, leaving only messy lines, like a ghost painting, which was difficult to identify.
The rippling water scene has also lost its vitality, just like a pool of stagnant water, no longer possessing vivid ripples and flowing dynamics.
The flowers and birds among them are all kinds of strange and strange, and they don't even look like living things.
Even the veins of the leaves and the texture of the petals seemed to be the ink he accidentally spilled. They were chaotic and messy, lacking order and beauty.
As the breeze blows, the mountains and rivers that should have been tall and majestic appear to be insubstantial. They have lost their original majesty and magnificence and become pale and feeble.
It seems that the paintings seen by the neighbors are completely different from the paintings seen by Chen Xun, and the real world is completely different from the world imagined by the old blind man. His paintings have never been sold.
That's why there is a meal, a pot of wine, and a painting at your disposal, and naturally no squire comes to ask for the so-called famous painting.
He is just an old blind man who cannot see, and there is nothing special about him.
This was because the neighbors were afraid that the old blind man would starve to death, so they gave him some food to buy paintings. After all, how could a blind man be able to paint? !
If he was really good at painting, his reputation would have spread throughout the West, and there would be a crowd of people outside the alley. Naturally, there would not be so many paintings piled up on the painting table, and he would only be able to give them to some children from time to time.
After all, in the world of children, such ghost drawings are more in line with their aesthetics, and they can even take them home and doodle on them for free.
The children in the alley like the old blind man very much and say that he draws well!
The neighbors also commented a few words: "It seems that there are no people buying paintings today. I don't know how many broken spiritual stones have been spent on these ink and rice papers. It is a pity."
"He is childless, let's take care of him as much as we can."
"Hey, yes, a blind man sells paintings. Isn't that nonsense? Fortunately, he doesn't collect broken spiritual stones. If he collects money, he will be regarded as an old liar by others."
"Let's go, let's go. It's not like we haven't tried to persuade you. We are very stubborn."
……
The neighbors casually said a few words and hurriedly went into the alley. Such paintings could not even be called paintings. They were no better than children's ghost paintings.
They were all a bit confused when they looked at the piled paintings, and the old blind man looked tireless, as if he was possessed, and no one could stop him.
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