Entertainment: My band is all lead singer

"Okay, everyone, find a seat and sit down." Zhao Xueqin clapped her hands and said to the students.

Jiang Yuebai chose a seat at random and sat down. There were prepared pens, ink, paper and inkstone on the table.

At some point, Quan Shanfei had quietly sat beside Jiang Yuebai.

As if he had identified him.

Zhao Xueqin first outlined the basic knowledge of Chinese painting, then explained the essentials and correct posture of painting, and then let the students create freely.

There were a variety of Chinese painting styles on the table, and students could choose according to their preferences.

This first Chinese painting class was not restricted by form, and the relaxed atmosphere was more conducive to stimulating students' interest.

Jiang Yuebai held the brush lightly, and a long-lost sense of familiarity instantly came to his mind.

Although he had not picked up the brush for only a few months, it felt as if it had been several years.

After hearing the teacher's instructions, most students began to flip through the books next to them and observed curiously.

For them, the brush was a novelty. They had never used a brush before, and it was full of infinite freshness.

While others were still hesitating about what to paint, Jiang Yuebai had already started to paint.

He first used light ink to carefully outline the main structure and outline of the painting: verdant mountains, clear water, and quiet boats, and then used thick ink to outline the key parts or bright areas, forming a contrast between near and far and virtual and real.

Quan Shanfei then splashed ink with his brush, his brushstrokes were unrestrained, and the last stroke was a light stroke.

A flower and bird painting was completed.

Looking at the "Chicken Pecking Rice Picture" in front of him, Quan Shanfei nodded with satisfaction.

"Well... not bad."

Quan Shanfei looked at his roommate on the left, who had painted a terrible picture.

It was really hard to compliment.

Even ghost paintings were better than this.

Quan Shanfei thought to himself that he must let his future "brother-in-law" see this masterpiece, so he glanced sideways.

It doesn't matter if you don't see it, but you will be shocked if you see it.

A magnificent landscape painting appeared in front of me, with mountains and peaks, a long river, and a small boat floating freely on it.

The landscape in the painting shows rich layers with vivid ink, and the distance and height are staggered, as if bringing people into a real natural landscape.

The mountains and rivers in Jiang Yuebai's paintings are not only similar in shape but also in spirit, vivid and lifelike.

In just ten minutes, Jiang Yuebai has completed the outline of the overall structure.

Unconsciously, the students around him also discovered Jiang Yuebai's paintings, gathered around, and expressed admiration for his works.

"Wow, the painting is so beautiful."

"This is better than what Teacher Zhao painted!"

"Who is this great man? There is such a great man in our class!"

"I'm so impressed."

"Why does it feel so simple in his hands, but so confusing in my hands?"

"..."

Despite the constant discussions around him, Jiang Yuebai seemed to be unperturbed and was still immersed in his own artistic world.

He dipped the brush lightly in the paint and swept the tip of the brush across the drawing paper. A touch of vibrant green appeared on the paper, revealing a sense of transcendent freshness.

The brush in his hand seemed to have life. As Jiang Yuebai's gestures danced freely, several mineral pigments became vivid under his clever use.

The firmness of the rocks, the luxuriance of the trees, and the mist of the clouds gradually took shape under his pen, forming a series of moving pictures.

Zhao Xueqin was originally patrolling the classroom. One of the students asked a question, and she was answering it attentively.

However, as soon as she stood up, she heard the students' exclamations and discussions.

She approached the group of students curiously, and her eyes lit up wherever she looked.

The work in front of her was first-class in both brushwork and composition, which made her, the teacher, admire it.

Although Zhao Xueqin specializes in fine brushwork flowers and birds, and has also dabbled in other areas of Chinese painting, she still thinks she is not as good as those masters of landscape painting.

For example, green landscape painting is not as good as the student in front of her.

Jiang Yuebai's use of brushstrokes, color matching, and virtual and real processing all show extremely high artistic attainments.

More and more students were attracted, and they surrounded the three layers inside and outside, and some even stood on chairs, just to see the style of this painting.

Seeing this, Zhao Xueqin made a silent gesture to the students around her, reminding everyone not to disturb Jiang Yuebai.

Under Jiang Yuebai's careful depiction and rendering, a landscape painting was completed.

In the distant view, the mountains are stacked, surrounded by clouds and mist, and birds fly over the canyon; in the near view, the trees on the top of the mountain have distinct colors, and strange trees grow on the cliffs.

Floating lights and shadows between the mountains and colorful clouds!

At the bottom of the picture, a pool of spring water flows gently, as if descending from the sky, a small boat was leisurely on it, and an old man in white clothes on the boat opened his arms and laughed at the sky, as if one could guess the story behind him.

The light boat has passed thousands of mountains!

Jiang Yuebai habitually wrote his name in the upper right corner.

"Written by Jiang Yuebai in the year of Renyin"

Only then was this green landscape painting truly completed.

"Hmm..."

Looking at the landscape painting in front of him, Jiang Yuebai nodded slightly to show his satisfaction.

He had not picked up a pen for several months. The last time he painted was at the seaside, and the waves at that time are still vivid in his mind.

Fortunately, he was not rusty. On the contrary, with the help of the system, his Chinese painting skills have become more advanced.

As for the inscription on the painting, it was not given by the system, but the result of Jiang Yuebai's ten years of calligraphy practice in his previous life.

He has a special liking for running script.

Running script is famous for its smooth strokes and sharp pen tip. It is written freely, like the clouds flowing in the sky and the gurgling stream on the ground. Every stroke is just right, full of dynamics and charm.

"Pa pa..."

Zhao Xueqin was the first to applaud, and other students responded one after another.

This student is not ordinary.

It should be noted that without a solid foundation of 10 to 20 years, it is difficult for ordinary people to reach such an artistic height.

However, Jiang Yuebai, a student of only about 20 years, was able to complete this masterpiece calmly and described the whole process lightly.

This kind of student, let alone himself, even the old professors in the college could not teach him.

Every stroke of his pen is precise and appropriate, and the details are exquisitely handled.

The whole painting is basically flawless, even if I were to do it myself, I couldn't do it.

The mountains in the painting are handsome, the water is clear, and the scenery is infinite, which is amazing.

"The eyes have learned it, and the hands say they need to see it a few hundred times more."

"The painting is beautiful, and the handwriting is beautiful, so awesome!"

"Compared to this stroke, Western paintings are weak."

"Exquisite, magnificent, and ingenious."

"The color matching is really amazing."

"Where do you think this painting should be hung in my house?"

"Shame on you, it's obviously better to hang it in my living room."

"What's the price of this painting?"

"How long do I have to learn to reach this level?"

Hearing the applause and discussion around him, Jiang Yuebai realized that he didn't know when a bunch of people were around him.

Even teacher Zhao Xueqin was among them.

"Your name is Jiang Yuebai?" Zhao Xueqin saw the last signature of this landscape painting. The students might not know what it means, but she still knew it.

"Yes, teacher."

"Have you learned it before?"

"A little bit."