The Pentium Era - South to North

Chapter 153 It’s like going back to those years

The BB player in Zhang Chen's waist rang. Zhang Chen picked it up and looked at it. It read: "Mr. Fu invites you to have morning tea at the same place tomorrow."

Zhang Chen couldn't help but beam with joy when he saw the words "old place" at a glance. Does that mean that he can see Xiao Zhao again tomorrow?

Zhang Chen then saw the word "morning tea" and felt sad again. It was morning tea, not dinner, so this old place was not Xiao Zhao and the others, but Chaojiang Chun.

It seems that Xiao Zhao and the others' place is no longer the old place, but a place in the past that Mr. Fu deliberately forgot.

"What, is there any new news?"

Gu Shufang kept looking at Zhang Chen attentively, and the fleeting expression on Zhang Chen's face did not escape her eyes. She asked.

Zhang Chen shook his head and said it was something else and had nothing to do with this.

Gu Shufang bit her lip. After a while, she said, "If they dare to reject this plan, tell me this company."

Zhang Chen asked curiously: "What do you want to do?"

"I'm going, I'm going..." After Gu Shufang said two words of "I'm going," she couldn't find the right words. She was a little anxious. She said, "I'm going to argue with them. What a good design, we can't let them bury it." Got it!"

Zhang Chen pretended to be serious and said: "Okay, I understand. If that happens, I will definitely tell you. I can't bury a master debater."

The two people raised their heads, looked at each other, and laughed. Gu Shufang sighed and said, "There are no paintings to see. Why does it feel like time passes so slowly this night?"

When Gu Shufang said this, she thought to herself, no wonder so many noble ladies abroad like to ask painters to paint their portraits. It turns out that sitting there and watching someone paint is such an interesting thing and also a way to pass the time. The best way.

Zhang Chen felt a little moved when he heard this. He felt that Gu Shufang was not pretending when she said this. She really liked to watch others draw. Zhang Chen looked at the time and saw that it was not yet nine o'clock. It was indeed too early. , in Haicheng, time seems to have been delayed. Many people just go out at ten o'clock in the evening, and the night only starts at that time.

On a whim, Zhang Chen was also affected by the current atmosphere in the office and Gu Shufang's sigh. Zhang Chen and Gu Shufang said, "Accountant Gu, how about I draw a painting for you?"

Gu Shufang raised her eyebrows, sparks burst out of her eyes, and she exclaimed happily: "Really?"

In fact, Zhang Chen regretted it as soon as he said it. He felt that he was looking for trouble for nothing. But at this time, he could only bite the bullet and nodded and said: "Really."

Gu Shufang hesitated for a moment, and then said: "It's better not to give up, such an ugly person..."

Zhang Chen quickly shook his head and said, "You are actually very... not ugly. Accountant Gu must have been very good-looking when he was young."

A hint of gloom flashed through Gu Shufang's eyes, and she sighed: "It's a pity that she is old now."

"You are not old either." Zhang Chen said, which was not a compliment to Gu Shufang: "You look much younger than your actual age. From a painter's perspective, you are now the most suitable age for painting. In the history of Western art, there are many portrait models who were almost the same age as the accountant."

"Oh, really?" Gu Shufang became interested and asked.

"Of course it is true. You see, like Leonardo da Vinci's "Mona Lisa", Rubens's "Portrait of Suzanne Furman", Sargent's "Mrs. Henry White" and so on. yes."

As Zhang Chen spoke, he looked at Gu Shufang. From a painter's perspective, Gu Shufang was indeed a very attractive model, whether it was her unrealistically white skin or the cold light shining in her eyes. , all evoke the urge to describe.

In Zhang Chen's memory, there are women with delicate and fair skin like Gu Shufang. In the paintings of painters, they all present a gentle and sweet image, whether it is Titian, Raphael or Velázquez. In this way, someone like Gu Shufang seems to be a special case. She is not cool, but so cold that it makes people shudder.

When an artist encounters such a unique character, he will be attracted to her and have the urge to create art. This may be the reason why Zhang Chen just blurted out that he wanted to paint a picture for Gu Shufang.

"I don't know the ones you mentioned and the rest." Gu Shufang said, "I only know the Mona Lisa."

Zhang Chen smiled and said: "I'm not a painter, so I really don't know them."

Gu Shufang looked at Zhang Chen and said, "Then I want colorful ones."

Zhang Chen said yes, gouache or oil painting will do.

"I want an oil painting." Gu Shufang said, "After the painting is done, can I hang it in my room forever?"

Zhang Chen said with a smile: "What I am best at is oil painting. Unfortunately, I haven't painted for a long time and my hands are a bit raw."

"It doesn't matter."

"Also, painting oil paintings takes a long time. It can't be done in one night..."

"It doesn't matter, we have plenty of time, don't we?"

Zhang Chen smiled and thought, indeed, there is plenty of time. Jin Lili is not in Haicheng, and even if he is, he will only come on the weekend.

If he didn't work overtime on the construction site every night, he wouldn't have anywhere to go. Now, Xiao Wu was busy training his team, and Liu Ligan didn't know what he was busy with. He was probably hanging around women, but he couldn't care anymore. She fell in love with him, and apart from these two people, Zhang Chen had no other friends in Haicheng.

"What, can't you?" Gu Shufang looked at Zhang Chen, and there was already a kind of prayer in her voice and eyes.

"Okay, sure." Zhang Chen agreed. He thought to himself that since he had no place to go, it would be good to paint oil paintings here every night and pick up his skills again, not to mention meeting such a unique and rare person. model.

"Shall we start now?" Gu Shufang asked anxiously and excitedly.

"Tomorrow." Zhang Chen said, "There are no materials today. When I came to Hainan, I didn't bring an oil painting box and the canvas was not stretched."

"Okay, then we'll make an agreement." Gu Shufang said.

"Okay, it's settled," Zhang Chen said.

Gu Shufang stood up and went upstairs with satisfaction. Before leaving, she smiled at Zhang Chen.

The next day, Zhang Chen and Mr. Fu hurriedly had morning tea, and arrived at the construction site before nine o'clock. He arranged things on the construction site, rode his motorcycle, and went out happily. He felt that he had returned to the time when he had learned I couldn't contain the excitement I felt during the oil painting scene.

When Zhang Chen was learning oil painting, he had to do everything by himself. He not only had to make the picture frame, stretch the canvas, and boil the gelatin by himself, but he even made the oil painting box by himself, which he modeled after the painter's oil painting box.

Unable to find the board, he secretly removed the drawer board at home and took out a partition from the closet. Later, his mother discovered it and cursed her, but the board could not be restored and had been removed. Zhang Chen saw it off.

Zhang Chen was too young at that time and couldn't even hold a woodworking saw or use it. He cut those boards bit by bit with half a hacksaw blade, but when faced with a pile of wooden boards, he was really I don't know if there is any way to put them together to look like that box.

Later, my father was standing by and couldn't stand it anymore, so he asked Zhang Chen, what on earth are you going to do?

Zhang Chen told his father that it was an oil painting box, but his father didn't know what the oil painting box looked like. It was not convenient for Zhang Chen to take his father to the painter to see it, so he used a pen to draw what the oil painting box looked like.

My father tied the boards to the bicycle and bag rack, pushed his bicycle, and asked Zhang Chen to follow him to their factory.

My father works in an instrument factory in the town. This factory produces photoelectric spectrometers and oxygen meters. These instruments are all packed in a wooden portable box, so the factory not only has a woodworking workshop, but also There is a paint shop dedicated to the production of these boxes.

The father gave the board and the picture Zhang Chen drew to the carpenter and asked him for help. The carpenter understood immediately and started working on it. The master didn't know what the inside of the box looked like, so Zhang Chen drew it for him on the spot. look.

When other masters saw Zhang Chen painting, they gathered around to watch. They all praised Lao Zhang's son for his good painting. Some people asked Zhang Chen, what else do you want to do? Tell me and I will do it for you. Zhang Chen looked at it. Father, father nodded. Zhang Chen was overjoyed, so he drew several wooden frames and wrote the length and width dimensions respectively.

The factory is a town-run enterprise, not an individual. Who among the people in the factory would not take some things to their homes, let alone such a few wooden frames. The master workers immediately became busy, and the factory director came over to see. I looked at what they were making and knew that it was Lao Zhang's son who wanted it, so I didn't say anything.

The factory director also came over, touched Zhang Chen's head, and said to his father, you are such a good son. The two debt collectors in my family know how to fight outside. Didn't I get called to school by the teacher? When you get scolded, you just have to apologize to others, go to hell.

Someone yelled from the side, "There is no more fucking, who are you going to date?"

Everyone burst out laughing.

In just over an hour, a brand new wooden box and eight picture frames of different sizes were ready. His father took Zhang Chen to the paint workshop and asked the painter to help Zhang Chen oil the painting box. Asked Zhang Chen what color he wanted, Zhang Chen looked at the dark brown box they were making and said, it can be lighter than this.

"Okay, put it here." The painter said.

The next day, Zhang Chen got a brand new oil painting box.

This was one of Zhang Chen's beautiful memories as a boy, and he was very grateful to his father and those masters, including the factory director.

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