Zhao Qinghe smiled dumbly, yes, how did he forget that men and women are not kissed. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 ｉｎfo

He still said, "Keeping a distance horizontally and vertically, of course, if he really has to be you, he must be married to the media, and it can't be rare if it's not a main room." ”

Nonsense. The Wu family is a big family in Hangzhou, and the officialdom is powerful, which is more prosperous than the Zhao family that has no official body now. Although Wu Qihan is not the eldest son, he is a serious heir, helping his father and brother who are officials in Beijing to take care of the family business, and I don't know how much attention is paid to it.

Xia Su secretly rolled his eyes.

"Zhao Qinghe, you yourself are stinky and beautiful, no one can care about it, but don't make a fool of yourself in front of others, and cause me to be embarrassed with you." Even in the main room, she is not uncommon.

Zhao Qinghe knew that Xia Su was self-aware, so he didn't say anything more, and smiled.

The two of them walked while talking, and suddenly the lights were bright in front of them, it was a garden of dancing and writing, singing and singing, young people who put up bookcases to write and paint, and there were also individual visitors who walked around to watch, all of them were drinking and talking.

"That's a lot of tricks." After seeing a few serious painting halls, Xia Su was happy again after the enthusiasm dissipated.

Bang la-

Xia Su looked at the fan opened in Zhao Qinghe's hand, which was the fan that Wen Zhengming imitated Tang Yin.

She couldn't help but look slightly stunned, and said in a very disapproving tone, "You are bold, this is Boss Wu's garden, and it is also the painting market he hosts, even if he is not here at this time, if there is news in his ears, how can you justify yourself?" ”

I've been letting him preach lately, and it's her turn to speak.

"The black light is blind, the wine is drunk, where will no one notice a little autumn fan." The south of the Yangtze River in autumn is also cold, but the elegance and elegance of the four seasons are like spring, and the autumn fan as a fashionable decoration, and in the place of literati and inkmen, it is not obtrusive, "Moreover, I have seen our buyers." ”

Belch? Xia Su didn't expect it.

She herself goes out day and night, and the scope of her activities at night is not large, and she mainly paints at home, so she thinks that Zhao Qinghe's day and night out are similar, but she is really wrong.

Zhao Qinghe is not as good as Xia Su to sleep, he only sleeps for half a day during the day, and goes out with the big donkey to meet people for half a day, and re-cleans up the former related households, goes to the dross, and leaves the essence.

It's like this mixed stick circle, it's very particular.

Most of them are scoundrels, but there are also many good men who are honest in real facts, but they are wild and crazy, and ordinary people regard them as outliers and are all classified as bastards.

There are only a few people left who he has befriended, but he is a three-class person, so the news in Suzhou City is not slow.

Three days ago, Yang Ruke, a big silk weaver in Huizhou, entered the city.

After Zhao Qinghe learned about it, he wanted to ask someone to introduce him, but today it was a coincidence.

As we all know, most of the Hui merchants were big buyers of ancient calligraphy and paintings. Once they are rich, they will return to their hometowns to build buildings, build houses, and buy antique calligraphy and paintings, in order to improve their knowledge and knowledge for future generations, and they are very willing to spend money.

Yang Ru can abandon literature to engage in business, he is rich in knowledge, not only loves to collect calligraphy and paintings, he can also draw books, and is quite talented.

Xia Su heard Zhao Qinghe talk about Yang Ruke, but saw several middle-aged people talking happily on the rockery pavilion, one of them had a positive face, and he was elegant, not like a businessman or a scribe.

Although she believed that he didn't recognize the wrong person, even if he was invited by Wu Qihan tonight, he didn't know anyone at all, so he couldn't rush forward to speak.

Zhao Qinghe seemed to be waiting for her to ask, and replied with a smile, "It depends on my sister." Stretching out his hand to the group of young people who were struggling to write, "They are approaching Wang Xizhi's Lan Tingxu, among which are Yang Ruke's sons and nephews. The one with the best clothes. My sister goes to show it, you don't need to exert all your strength, you can be stronger than all of them. I'll leave the rest to my brother. ”

Improvisational copying is also one of the traditional programs of the painting market, but Xia Su does not go.

Zhao Qinghe wondered, "Why don't you go?" Wu Erye invited male and female guests tonight, it is rare that there is no rule of tying hands and feet, and usually always see you alone to study ink, quite lonely, now there are so many like-minded people, everyone gambles with talents, regardless of men, women and children, why don't you go and have a good time? ”

"I don't know calligraphy." The expression is flat.

“…… I heard that calligraphy and painting are not separated. "Humility?

"I don't know anything." The tone is dull.

“…… It must have been you who were lazy as a child. "How can it not be done?

"I've learned, and I said that it was like a ghost drawing a talisman, so I was persuaded to give up." Honest boy.

“…… You...... It's really biased...... It's the same as a picky eater. "Who said, and who persuaded her?

"My mother said that one skill is enough." It's not that she picks, it's that she can't learn.

“…… Do you still have a mother? "The first time I heard her mention.

"You don't have a mother, you're a bear child." That's why I used to be so stupid - godmother, please forgive me.

...... "Okay, it's not fun, Zhao Qinghe saw that the copybook on the shelf was removed and replaced with a black chrysanthemum, "My sister can go now." ”

Seeing that she was still very unwilling, he pushed it, "Think about the silver, this Hui merchant is generous, if you miss it, you have to wait for the next one, and I don't know when I will wait." ”

Xia Su went.

This night came with a temperament, and she really didn't care much about the difference between men and women, and she was sven, her small mouth was bent down, not bright, and naturally it was not very eye-catching, so no one looked at her more, and let her draw silently at the end table.

Xia Su has never seen this ink chrysanthemum, the painting method and style are very unfamiliar, taste it carefully, there is Li Yanzhi's Song style that she likes. The whole painting has neither a signature nor a seal, the ink chrysanthemum is small, and the shape is real, but the layout wants to be vivid but not vivid, and it is a little sluggish.

Generally speaking, if the painting she sees for the first time is not a famous master she is familiar with, and she cannot use auxiliary gadgets, her imitation power and similarity will be skewed. However, to be able to hang this painting for people to copy, the expectations are probably not too high, she put down the pen quickly, to paint the shape, the charm is free.

Halfway through the painting, Xia Su suddenly remembered Zhao Qinghe's request to "copy better than everyone else, but can't do his best", and immediately slowed down, kept comparing the paintings on the table next to him, and rubbed it until the last one, and then hung it on the rope.

People gathered around to look at the characters and paintings, and the copyists and painters also observed the works of others, but Xia Su gave up calligraphy early in the morning, and after seeing those paintings, he felt that there was nothing to see, standing under the rocks, far away from the crowd.

Someone came running.

It was the best dressed young man.

Xia Su gave way to the side by another three feet, but her precautions were now redundant, and the young man kept walking and ran from her side to the pavilion.

The young man's voice was not quiet, and he said happily, "Uncle, since it is your painting, it is up to you to decide who will copy it best." If you don't go down and see, I'm embarrassed to take the prize, for fear that people will say that I will touch your light. ”

It turned out that the ink chrysanthemum was painted by Yang Ruke.