[Comprehensive Korean Drama] Attack!Male match!

At this time, Xue Gongcan, who was on school vacation, was discussing with his friends how to go on vacation, when suddenly the ringtone belonging to Ms. Zhang on his mobile phone rang.He nodded apologetically to the people around him, stood up and walked out, closing the door behind him, "Auntie, hello."

"Hello, Gongcan," Ms. Zhang forced a smile while slapping skin lotion on her face, and made a roundabout question first, "Gongchan is also on vacation, are you going back to China?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Gong Chan smiled apologetically, "Because I was studying abroad, I met a few classmates who were also Korean during the party, and everyone planned to go somewhere during the holiday. I also told my grandpa, Not going back for now."

"Ah, that's it," Ms. Zhang suddenly felt hopeful, her tone full of anticipation, and she asked tentatively, "So Gongcan, where are you going?"

"Auntie?" Gong Chan, who felt a little abnormal, was taken aback for a moment, and then he understood, and laughed a few times, with a helpless and doting expression on his face, "Did Zheng Yu run away again? He said where he was going ?"

"Hey," Ms. Zhang had another headache when she mentioned it, and she didn't care about being ashamed in front of the younger generation. Anyway, she has been here for so many years, and she immediately began to complain, "That dead boy said he was going to Venice to sketch. , I lied and slipped away in the middle of the night, and didn't answer my phone at all, I was really mad at me. Gong Chan, it's not that my aunt is busy, it's just that Zheng Yu is still young after all, so I thought, if it's convenient, of course If so, if you pass by, can you take a look for your aunt?"

"No problem," Gong Chan nodded, curling the corners of his lips, "Venice, right? Then I'll go there, just to see the unique underwater hotel model there."

"Really?" Ms. Zhang suddenly felt overjoyed, and she didn't care about the lotion on her hair. A big stone fell in her heart, "Thank you so much. Oh, by the way, if it's raining, he will definitely live in it."

"I know," Gong Chan said with a smile, "he's so picky, he'll only live in those fixed hotels, I'll check it out then. Don't worry, Aunt, it's time for high school to start There is still a long time, and I will find him and report to you."

After hanging up the phone, Gong Chan went back to the room, nodded to the few people waiting for him inside: "Sorry, I have something to do."

"We vaguely heard something about Venice just now," a very beautiful girl looked at him and said, "Brother, do you want to go there?"

"Venice?" Another stylishly dressed girl clasped her hands together, "It's beautiful there, I've never been there, why don't we go there."

Having said that, a few people have no objections. Anyway, there are many other countries over there, so it's too late to take a look.

"Is it really okay?" Gongcan is naturally very happy with the result, but he also has to take other people's thoughts into consideration, right?

"Oh, it's okay," another boy patted him on the shoulder, "It's just going out to play, only you, Gong Chan, are the ones who really do things, if you're okay, we'll be okay, right Shixuan ?”

"Ah," the girl at the beginning also nodded with a smile, and gave Gong Chan a tender look, "Of course I agree with my brother's plan."

"Oh," the surrounding people booed kindly, "It's really sweet."

Gong Chan just smiled politely and didn't say anything.

On the contrary, Shixuan was not shy, and hugged his arm generously, "Is it envious?"

So a bunch of young people made a mess again, laughing and laughing, youthful and invincible.

By an ordinary small river in Venice, a young man was sitting on the ground, with a tall easel in front of him, and various paints piled up around his legs, which looked like burning flowers from a distance.

It was afternoon at this time, and the sun was gradually sinking to the west, and the afterglow slowly dyed the sky into incomparably gorgeous colors, which reflected on the river surface, which was indescribably gorgeous and beautiful.

The young man who was shrouded in the orange-red sun just watched quietly like this, without moving, letting the breeze brush the slightly long black hair by his ears, and gently hit his delicate face.

After watching quietly for a long time, the young man suddenly stood up and took a few steps, then took out a violin from the box behind him, without looking at the drawing board, adjusted the strings slightly, put it by his neck and slowly pulled it up.

The sound of the piano is melodious, obviously the young man is speaking casually, as if someone is whispering, and it seems to be mixed with the faint laughter of others, but it also reveals an indescribable loneliness.

The delicate boy, the gorgeous sky, the beautiful sound of the piano, everything is beautiful like a painting.

Ferente looked out from the window on the other side of the river with a relaxed expression.

He has been observing this young man for four days, it is purely a coincidence, the other party just happened to come here to paint, and he also happened to come here for vacation.

There are many coincidences in the world, and it is more interesting to have them, isn't it?

This young man is very talented, and his paintings are quite spiritual. What's even more rare is that he didn't blindly imitate, but slowly infiltrated some of his own elements into it.

Actually, it is not like the spirituality and skills that children of this age can have.

Suddenly, Ferente felt that he should go out and have a chat with this boy. The old man always likes children, doesn't he?

On the fifth day, the boy came again, in the same position and in the same posture.

Ferente walked over slowly, not getting too close, just stood on the side and watched quietly, quietly watching the boy squinting his eyes to look at the sky, quietly watching the boy writing like flying on the canvas Smear on the painting, quietly watching the boy occasionally put down the paintbrush to improvise.

"Sir," the young man began to pack his things slowly as night fell, and unexpectedly, he asked, "Do you also like painting?"

He speaks fluent Italian.

Ferente was startled, and then replied in Italian: "Yes, I like it too."

"It's beautiful here, isn't it?" The young man quickly packed up his things, raised his head, and took a last look at the setting sun that was about to completely sink below the horizon, with an unexpectedly lonely expression.

"Yes, it's very beautiful." Ferente looked at it fascinatedly, the afterglow of the setting sun fell on the gray-blue eyes, reflecting the light of wisdom.He looked at the boy again, "But it's about to fall."

"Yes, the sun rises every day, but the beautiful scenery looks different every day." The young man nodded, squinted his beautiful eyes and smiled, pointing his finger at his head. It will never be lost."

Ferente also smiled. From the boy in front of him, he felt a kind of vitality and loneliness intertwined, contradictory and harmonious.

"Goodbye!" The boy waved his hand and turned to leave.

"Son," Ferente called to stop him, "don't you ask how I, the only audience, feel?" He pointed to the easel that was built on the back of the other party.

"No need," the young man waved his back to him, his movements were chic and his tone light, "You don't hate it, that's enough, isn't it?"

Ferente smiled, not only didn't hate it, but also liked it quite a lot.