He came to the university campus in the summer, walked along the bamboo forest that he and Chen Annie had walked countless times to the studio where the two had painted together.

The professor is still in high spirits, but the students in the classroom are all younger faces, full of vigor and ideals.

"I'm recovering well, I've heard from your classmates." As soon as Professor Zhang Yang spoke, his voice was still the same as it had been many years ago.

"It's okay, it's been okay for a long time, but I have a little problem and want to ask the teacher."

Ding Jiajun truthfully told Zhang Yang about the setbacks he had suffered since recovering from his injury. Zhang Yang was silent for a long time, "Lifeless? ”

Ding Jiajun nodded.

The two sat on the stone steps in front of the school building and watched the young students run on the track in the distance, walking side by side under the camphor trees.

"What do you think is the problem?"

Zhang Yang asked.

"I just don't know what the problem is, and I feel like what I'm seeing is actually more vivid than it used to be."

"I know some artists who have similar problems, but in fact everything about art is not here, not here, and not here."

Zhang Yang stretched out his hand, pointed to his eyes and put his hand on his chest.

Finally he said, "Here." ”

"Brain?"

"So there's something wrong with my brain?"

"You said you see the colors are more vivid than before?"

Zhang Yang asked.

"Yes, the reds are still the same as the original, but in my opinion they are redder, the greens are more vibrant, and I think the city is very saturated, so in order to make my paintings a little more balanced, I deliberately pulled out some of the colors in the color scheme, I think they are balanced, but the result is not ideal."

Zhang Yang had never encountered such a situation, so he asked Ding Jiajun for some recent works.

The two walked back to the teaching building one after the other, and after avoiding the sun's rays, Zhang Yang saw the problem in Ding Jiajun's painting more clearly.

"All the colors are grayish."

"How so?"

Ding Jiajun took his mobile phone and looked at it.

"It's obviously a very bright color, but I think it's too dazzling, and it should be watered down a little more."

Zhang Yang looked at Ding Jiajun distressedly, "Many artists will change their painting style because of vision problems, seven, don't be too frustrated." ”

"I'm not depressed." Ding Jiajun hurriedly explained.

The previous customer just said that it was inappropriate, saying that the picture was lifeless, and no one said it like Zhang Yang just now.

"Seven, think of Monet. Because of his perennial painting in ultraviolet light, Monet's habit of obsessing with brilliance eventually led to his near-blindness in his later years.

It's like you're drawing with your eyes closed. When he picked up the paint and asked his assistant what color it was, and then painted with the assistant's answer, he was still creating wonderful works through the memory of colors and the sense of painting that he had cultivated over the years. ”

"Teacher, Monet is different from me, he gradually becomes blurry and cloudy, the left eye and the right eye see different colors, and the sensitivity to light is getting worse and worse, and the later works become darker, the tone and luminosity are cloudy and dark, and there is a noticeable weakening of contrast.

Monet himself admitted, 'My sensitivity to color is not as strong as it used to be.' In my eyes, the red is cloudy, the pink is very flat, and some of the dull colors I don't feel at all'. Therefore, if you look at his paintings in his old age, you will find that the forms he depicts are also blurred, but of course they are still wonderful works. ”

"So, what I want to tell you is that for artists, color changes with life, and if it changes, you can also find new worlds, to explore, to adapt, to create works that we haven't seen before."

Zhang Yang tried to encourage Ding Jiajun, holding the kindness of the teacher and the cherishing of the students.

"But teacher, I'm different, forgive me for taking the liberty of saying that what you say is different from me. The colors I see are actually more vivid, it's hard for me to describe it to you, it's like a short-sighted person suddenly wearing contact lenses, or raising the contrast of a painting, and then increasing the saturation In short, yellow is as bright as the sun exploding in my eyes, I can't open my eyes sometimes, blue is the purest sky, I'm not like Monet who can't see purple and blue when he arrives, I can see all the colors, the world is more vivid, sometimes this brightness, I want to cover it up with a huge cloth, I think it's a little brighter."

"What?" Zhang Yang is very patient, and he is very patient with excellent students or students who are slightly less talented.

This is also the reason why Ding Jiajun thought of coming to Zhang Yang for the first time.

Zhang Yang always listens carefully to students' difficulties and strives to answer students' confusion, he is wise and erudite, and can always bring confidence and courage.

"Some of them overwhelmed me, I felt that the vivid colors were too unreal, so I always wanted to reduce the vividness in the color grading to make them look closer to the real world, the world I remember."

Zhang Yang tactfully suggested that Ding Jiajun go to the hospital for some visual examinations, or go to the neurology department for a check-up.

When he left school, Ding Jiajun wanted to go to the gallery for a walk, there were entries from previous students on the second floor of the gallery, Ding Jiajun just wanted to see his college works, although he knew that Chen Annie's works would also be exhibited on the second floor, but Ding Jiajun didn't think so much.

The structure of the gallery on the second floor is simple, with two long oval perforations at the top of the white exhibition hall, and the light crosses and converges on the sculpture in the center, which was completed by Ding Jiajun and Liu Zhi together.

Ding Jiajun felt that the color of the sculpture was a little too bright, obviously it was the original copper color, and it was naturally reddened at most after a long time. But now, the cylindrical sculpture in front of Ding Jiajun's eyes looks like a bright red fire faucet.

"Oh my God, how can this be, the lighting hasn't changed, it's supposed to be dark copper."

Ding Jiajun's mood suddenly became dull, and he also felt tingling in his chest several times.

At this moment, a figure wandered in the shadows, humming an old song, like a ghost, and walked into the oval light like a ghost.

Autumn should be good, if you are still there

Even if the autumn breeze is cool, it is beautiful

You fill my dreams in the middle of autumn

It's like a falling leaf flying, tapping on my window

“seven。”

The singer gradually walked from the shadows to the light, and Ding Jiajun settled down before he could see his face clearly.

The face was unusually sad, but unusually bright.

"When we worked together day and night on this sculpture, Anne still had a chance to choose."

"Ah, didn't she already choose you?"

"Me?"

The name of the person who sang was Liu Zhi, and his English name was as casual as Ding Jiajun, Ding Jiajun's English name was seven, and this Liu Zhi's English name was six.

The two laughed at each other's English names on the day of the freshman report, and then became close friends.

It's all too common for brothers to fall in love with the same girl.