In the old residential area in the alley, Zhong Yue pointed to the public telephone.

The old man who was reading the newspaper took off his reading glasses and looked at Zhong Yue, "Use it, use it." Then he continued to read the newspaper and muttered: "Qiqi, there are still people who call public phones these days. This broken phone number has been gone for so many days."

The phone dialed.

"Hey, Qiushan, how are you?"

Zhong Yue tapped his finger on the receiver.

"Has you passed it? I'm really congratulations. I finally found a job to make a living. Otherwise, your body that has just recovered will not work hard and tiring. The doctor said that if you get hurt again, it will be very troublesome to relapse of inflammation and may have a high fever."

Zhong Yue clicked first, then clicked twice, meaning that he passed, so that Fu Guoqiang would not worry.

"Okay. I agreed with a distant relative in the city that you can live in his house first. I have paid the rent for two months, and then I will rely on you."

Zhong Yue was silent.

"Hey, Qiushan, are you listening?"

Zhong Yue gently lit the microphone with his fingers.

"Okay, then you should work hard to live. In a few days, when I come back from the horse farm, I will bring Sasha to see you."

After lit the microphone again, Zhong Yue hung up the phone, looked up and saw the old man holding the newspaper with a confused look on his face, and just looked at each other.

It was not until the phone prompted me to ask for 60 cents that Zhong Yue gave the money, took a bottle of water and left.

"This weird guy, can't he be a criminal... so mysterious, he actually calls with such a strange code?"

...

...

"You are Guoqiang's friend, right?"

Zhong Yue nodded.

"Here, he rented this rental house for you. The rent is deposited for one. This month, there are still four or five days left, so I won't care about you. After all, it's not easy for you." The old woman muttered. I guess Fu Guoqiang also told this distant relative about Zhong Yue.

Zhong Yue looked at the environment in the rental house. It was worse than what he rented outside the old Mo Factory. The old community was at least one bedroom, one living room and one bathroom. There was a room, one bed and one small coffee table. It was all the things in the room. It was like falling to the bottom floor.

“It’s summer now, there’s no air conditioning here.”

Zhong Yue nodded. He was wrapped so tightly that he was hot enough in this place. He probably would get prickly heat when he lived there.

"Okay, this is the key to the room, you can take it. If you want to join me, come upstairs to find me. It costs five yuan per meal, one meat and two vegetables. How about it? It's much more affordable than eating outside."

Zhong Yue glanced at the smart old lady and nodded.

"Why, you agreed?"

Zhong Yue: “…”

He wrote a note, "I'll think about it again."

After reading it, the old lady said, "Okay, if you are like this, it's a problem to eat outside. Eating in my house will save money and trouble. What else can you think about? Okay, I'll leave."

Zhong Yue sat on a wooden bed without even a mat. Why did he feel that he was a little too miserable when he came back this time? But he felt miserable, but his mood was not that bad. Maybe it was because of the brushwork system and the ink rhyme that can slowly sort out the meridians now, which made Zhong Yue not worried at all.

He is rich in heart, so sooner or later he will recover. Zhong Yue entered the brushwork system and looked at Qi Baishi's painting system. He never dared to go in. He once wanted to erase the NPC memory. He cheated Bai Shi Weng for a hundred taels of gold. If he borrowed some more this time... would he be beaten out of shit?

"Forget it, it's not easy for Mr. Bai Shi to save some coffin books..."

Zhong Yue entered the newly won system.

"You're here."

"Well, have you eaten by sir?"

"I've eaten, sit down."

Zhong Yue has now found a place to vent his feelings in the brushwork system. He has been holding it out all day long and said it was not uncomfortable, but it was actually uncomfortable. After all, no one wants to be a mute.

"I applied for a magazine today. The magazine prefers story-based style, so my previous style may not be very suitable for illustrations, so I would like to ask my husband about the techniques of comics."

That's right, what Zhong Yue got in the lottery before was [Feng Zikai's comics]. However, what Zhong Yue was a little puzzled was that does this Chinese painting also include comics? It seems that before Feng Zikai became famous, no one in China drew comics. This goat's old beard and with black round eyes, was Feng Zikai's old Feng.

"I roughly understand your painting skills. For figure painting, your pen inherits Zhang Sengyou, which is as good as Cao Yi's appearance. It's just a comic. There is no need to be so complicated, and the illustrations are the same. So, what you have to do is not addition, but subtraction."

"Subtraction?"

"Well. Remember one thing, if the pen comes, the pen will have no meaning. Many of my paintings have no facial features. That is because it is unnecessary, so I don't draw anymore. This is not allowed in traditional Chinese paintings, so comics have a comic style, and what they need to do is subtraction."

Zhong Yue nodded and said, "I was thinking about a question before, that is, after using calligraphy into painting, my calligraphy can express the meaning, but when it comes to painting, the most direct and practical way should be expressed is a bit unsatisfactory."

Feng Zikai stroked his beard and smiled and said, "I don't like pure landscape paintings and still life paintings. I don't like to get into the pile of ancient people and not come out. I paint those small bridges, flowing water, and smoke villages. I hope that my paintings are humane and social issues in my paintings. I hope that my paintings are another expression of literary methods. So it is different from traditional Chinese paintings, especially in our era. If Chinese paintings are just used as a shelf, they will not paint, and they must have a thought-provoking meaning. However, the era when I died was a time of confusion. I don't know how many Chinese painters will continue the past."

Zhong Yue held a brush and looked at the rice paper in front of him, and he didn't know how to write for a moment. If the masters before were filling his mind with knowledge, the Chinese painter closest to Zhong Yue's era was teaching Zhong Yue how to do subtraction.

Of course, when students at Zhong Yue understand Feng Lao's comics, they do not mean to learn whether characters draw facial features and how colors match these superficial things. What is more important is to learn the connection and distinction between pen and meaning.

"Sir, do you think your comic style will be eliminated by the times?"

Feng Zikai leaned against the back of the chair and said, "I don't know, but my paintings contain kindness and kindness, and these will never be outdated in any era, and many of these are not found in traditional Chinese paintings."

"Been taught a lesson."
Chapter completed!