Dragon Ball Master Wu Tian

Two years later, in the year 569 A.D.

More than ninety kilometers south of Nandu, there is a rather remote rural town. The town is sparsely populated, mostly the old, weak, sick and disabled who are left behind. Young and middle-aged men and women are rushing to big cities hundreds of miles away in search of a more comfortable life. Few can endure the poverty, backwardness and boring living environment in rural towns.

Outside the town, next to the deserted road, there is an abandoned thatched house.

It was dusk in the evening, but it started to rain lightly.

The rainwater fell in streams along the thatched eaves, and the road at the door was already muddy, with puddles everywhere. The house is surrounded by rotten wooden boards that shine through. Fortunately, although it rains, there is no wind. Otherwise, even if you hide in the house, you will still be soaked in the rain.

The sky was overcast, and the light inside the thatched house was very dark, making it difficult to see.

"Peng."

A flame suddenly appeared in the thatched house. The fire swayed and then jumped to the ground, landing on a pile of dry firewood that had appeared at an unknown time. Usually when a fire is lit, the flame will dim for a while, and then gradually grow into a higher flame. But the nature of the flame was unknown. As soon as it fell on the firewood, the fire did not diminish. It ignited the firewood instantly and the fire became even brighter.

The Phoenix lay comfortably on the hay next to the fire, in a posture that made Wu Tian quite speechless...

The drawing board was put aside by Wu Tian. He looked at the drizzle outside the house and felt peaceful in his heart.

In the past two years, Wu Tian walked through many places with this drawing board on his back. Whenever he felt something in his heart, he would pick up his pen and put it into the painting. Because of his strong mental strength and his extreme concentration when painting, when others look at his paintings, they will always feel as if they are "being there" like an hallucination.

Along the way, some good people spread the name of 'Soul Painter' to him.

In addition, he had also given paintings to a few people he liked, and the rumors about his painting skills, painting skills, magic power... became more and more mysterious. After he became famous, his works actually became popular. Some of the paintings he once gave away have been acquired by some wealthy collectors through various means.

However, Wu Tian actually didn't care whether the person who received the painting from him was selling the painting for money or was forced to do so.

After all... the reason why he carried a drawing board and traveled around the world to paint at will was just because in those days a few years ago, he suddenly recalled himself in the first life and thought of the man named two lives apart. 'Wu Tian', an ordinary young man, once had something called a 'dream' or 'ambition'.

There was a faint smile on the corner of Wu Tian's mouth. He glanced at the drawing board lying on the ground beside him. On the board was a thick stack of drawing paper. On the white paper was a drawing drawn with a special carbon pen. Picture scroll: pedestrians, mountains and rivers, nature, city...

Either freehand or realistic. Wu Tian has no so-called painting style. His only style may be his "painting method" which is called "soul painting technique". But it was just a by-product of his spiritual magic cultivation, and Wu Tian didn't take it to heart.

‘Becoming a great and powerful painter’... This is something that is no longer worth mentioning in his eyes now, but it was indeed his original dream back then.

As for why it is the 'original'...heh, after all, young people's minds are not really that unswerving, and they are not the protagonists in some juvenile comics. Within a few years, after repeatedly recognizing his talents or limitations, and experiencing the torrent of various online novels at that time, the boy named 'Wu Tian' quickly changed his mind. He has set a goal: 'to become a great writer who is unconventional, whose works are both best-selling and stylish'.

Closing his eyes, Wu Tian laughed dumbly, and the scenes of the past drifted away in front of his eyes. This journey along the way was not only a process of completing his first life, but also a process of getting rid of the worries of his first life in his heart. Two and a half years later, it seems that... the traces of the 'Wu Tian' in his first life are already very shallow in his heart. Just like footprints in the snow, it will probably be buried by the wind and snow before long, leaving no trace at all.

Opening his eyes, Wu Tian took out a notebook from his arms and flipped his wrist, revealing a morning light blackwater signature pen he was used to using when he was a student. He opened his notebook to the place where he had written last time. After thinking about it, he picked up the pen and continued to write: [...Uchiha Sasuke was after school and did not see his brother Uchiha Itachi come to pick him up, so he went home alone. Return to the place where the clan gathers. ...The sky had just turned dark, and the alley was already deserted, and Uchiha Sasuke felt uneasy in his heart...]

At this time, a series of footsteps came from the door.

"Ouch!" Three people, two tall and one short, rushed in despite the rain. They seemed to be pedestrians who came to take shelter from the rain. The rain outside was getting heavier.

One of the taller two patted the water stains on his body and complained: "What a shame! It's so hard to go to such a remote and remote country, with mud roads everywhere..." It turned out to be a tall woman, look at her The clothes are bright and bright, the appearance is extraordinary, and there is a sense of fashion. He probably comes from a big city.

"Okay, you've been complaining all this time!" The short man said helplessly, "Didn't I hear that the 'Soul Painter' appeared near here? We happen to be not far away, let's try our luck!"

"I'm just a painter, what's so good about it?" The woman was still dissatisfied. She glanced at a middle-aged man who was writing with his head down by the fire in the thatched house. She found that the man was dressed in simple clothes and had an ordinary temperament. She curled her lips inwardly. .

The other person who came in together was their bodyguard. As soon as he came in, he carefully observed the environment in the room and the only person in the room. He soon discovered a rather strange fact——

The inside of this house does not seem to be as bad as they thought: although this thatched house is abandoned and dilapidated, it does not have that musty smell; although there is light from all sides, there is not a trace of cold air seeping in, let alone rainwater leaking in; although It was a cloudy and rainy day, but the dirt ground did not become wet and muddy. Instead, it was very dry...

The short man exchanged a look with the bodyguard. The bodyguard shook his head to indicate that there was no danger, and the man approached the fire with his female companion. Only then did I realize that the middle-aged man next to the fire was lowering his head and writing something in a notebook.

When he wanted to take a look, he found that no matter how carefully he looked, he couldn't see clearly what was written in the man's notebook. There is only a shadow of vague handwriting, flowing quickly under the pen, but it is impossible to distinguish what is written, as if it is covered with a layer of fog.

With a shiver in his heart, the short man originally wanted to chat with the middle-aged man, but suddenly he had an inexplicable feeling in his heart, as if he felt that he shouldn't do this, so he simply stayed silent with his two companions.

"I don't know when the rain will stop!" the woman muttered, crossing her arms.

"Originally, I wanted to wait in the car for the rain to stop, but you didn't come up to get some fresh air!" the short man said angrily.

After a while, when the woman's eyes wandered randomly, she suddenly noticed a red dove sleeping soundly on the hay next to the fire! It was such a beautiful red dove. The woman's eyes lit up immediately. Just as she was about to point at the dove and say something, the short man next to her also exclaimed in a low voice: "Oh my God..."

The woman nodded: "Yes, my God, how could there be such a beautiful pigeon?"

The man didn't respond. The woman turned her head strangely and didn't see the man. When she lowered her head, she found that the man had squatted down and lay on the ground with his butt sticking out, looking at something carefully. The woman looked around and saw that it was a drawing board, and on the drawing board was a stack of thick papers. On the top piece of paper, there was a picture of drizzle in a small village...

When the short man saw this picture inadvertently, he thought he had arrived at the destination of his trip. Suddenly he came to his senses and realized that he was just staring at a painting. After regaining consciousness, I suddenly thought that only the rumored "soul painter" could create such a miraculous painting!

He rubbed his hands, excited by strong thoughts. Even the suggestion technique thrown by Wu Tian couldn't stop his idea of ​​striking up a conversation. The short man approached Wu Tian who was writing by the fire...

…………

Not wanting to be disturbed by others, Wu Tian habitually placed triggering mental magic 'suggestions' around himself, but since the man had already struck up a conversation, Wu Tian would not completely reject him.

After some conversation, Wu Tian learned that this short man was a famous rich man in Nandu, and his biggest hobby was collecting all kinds of famous paintings. The reason seems to be that this person once aspired to be a great painter when he was a child, but his talent was dull and rotten wood cannot be carved. In the end, he actually made a fortune by writing books, entered the business world, and gradually gained his current wealth. After becoming successful, a man has not forgotten his dream. Since he can't draw it himself, he should collect other people's masterpieces and appreciate them.

In the past year, he heard about a wandering painter who was highly praised by many people, even those in the circle where he was fond of collecting. The man originally dismissed it, but after seeing an authentic work by the so-called 'soul painter' at a friend's house, he couldn't help but become obsessed with it. Over the past year, he has been inquiring about the 'soul painter' through various channels.

Wu Tian couldn't help but feel a little funny after hearing this.

Seeing him smiling, the man looked nervous. He couldn't help but turn his eyes to the drawing board on the ground, and asked tentatively: "Master... can I... that... um... pay homage to... um that... …”

"Feel free to read it." Wu Tian said, opened the notebook again and continued writing. The firelight reflected on his face, and his extremely calm expression flickered.

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