Life in the Calligraphy and Painting Hall is very boring, and before you know it, it has lasted for a month.

As an apprentice painter, Li Mo can only work in the lobby and the wings.

Only formal painters have access to the practice method, resulting in the vast majority of apprentices being eliminated from the ranks of miscellaneous laborers.

The calligraphy and painting hall teaches the most basic painting skills, occasionally mixed with some common sense of the eight veins of the strange scriptures, but it is not in-depth.

If it weren't for the depressing atmosphere, Li Mo would have the illusion of being in the Niujia Village School.

He had long been accustomed to the routine of the calligraphy and painting hall, and when the faint roar of the beast every night was over, he naturally woke up from the bed.

The wing room is certainly better than the pawnshop accommodation for the first time, but the furnishings are extremely simple, and it is still a room shared by four people.

Painters and apprentices rarely communicate with each other, and Li Mo tries to extract clues from others, but the information available is relatively limited.

Li Mo still hasn't figured out how his practice can involve painting, and even treats painting skills as an assessment.

All he knew was.

Studio apprentices are mostly selected from among the children of the residents of Melttown, so they are more or less aware of the matters of cultivation.

Li Mo relied on the side knocks, plus the memories that appeared from time to time in the Book of Creation, and barely had a little confidence in cultivation.

He also thought about branding his organs, but it is said that after becoming a painter, he was taught the method by the steward himself, so he dispelled the idea.

The sky was slightly bright, and the chill of late autumn enveloped all parts of the painting and calligraphy hall.

Li Mo lifted the quilt and got up, stretched his muscles and bones in the room barefoot, his heart beat faster, and he recovered his body temperature like a cold-blooded animal.

The apprentices in the same room woke up one after another.

Li Mo also recognized Zeng Xiaoyi among them, who was close to nineteen years old, and the death disease began to erode his body during the total horn period.

He was the first to walk out of the wing, and walked briskly towards the lobby in the dim candlelight.

Li Mo understood that he should have almost come into contact with cultivation, and the death and illness of the total horn period were close to him, so it would definitely be unwise to continue to hide it.

When he arrived in the lobby, there were already many apprentices studying ink.

A painter named Liu Qin walked around the lobby, looking to be over forty years old, with a slender and thin body, only a bloated and blue right leg.

She was just a routine worker, and every other month she was replaced by another artist.

Li Mo chose a position close to the corner, picked up the ballast stone and pressed the rice paper, poured some water on the inkstone, and took out the ink strip from his arms.

Inkstones, brushes and other objects are ready-made, and if they are damaged, they can also be asked for by the painter.

Only the ink strip must be kept alone.

The ink strip is only the size of a finger, but it weighs three catties, Li Mo doesn't know what is mixed in it, and the ink formed has a special rusty smell, which makes people think about it carefully.

Li Mo's speed of ink research is neither fast nor slow.

He felt that he was unforgettable, and his body was transformed imperceptibly.

Li Mo has skillful composition ability, plus the famous paintings he has seen in his previous life, he only needs the coordination of his hands to keep up, and it is not difficult to get rid of the identity of the painter's apprentice.

While he hibernate for the past month, he has focused on honing his control of his arms.

Li Mo spent most of the hour studying the ink, then picked up the brush and sketched it, and a moment later, the portrait of the wooden figure appeared on rice paper.

Then he started grinding again, just from his right hand to his left.

Zhao Qin noticed Li Mo's actions and couldn't help but shake her head, after all, the evaluation of painters is mainly to look at the imitation of tiger beasts, and the wooden people are only used to memorize the acupuncture points and meridians.

Li Mo's daily behavior is to repeat the process of painting wooden figures.

Zhao Qin has seen the wooden figure painted by Li Mo, and the acupuncture points and meridians are accurate, which shows how outstanding his talent in painting is.

It's just a pity......

Zhao Qin went to close her eyes and recuperate, and did not pay attention to Li Mo anymore.

She only chooses a few paintings occasionally, but not because of how good they are, but because there is something strange and inexplicable in them.

At this moment, Zhao Qin found that Li Mo suddenly lifted the brush.

This time, Li Mo picked up a leaf tendon with a pen shaft as slender as long chopsticks, and no longer copied the wooden figure over and over again, but depicted the outline of the tiger beast.

His movements are extremely skillful, his breathing is steady, it is hard to imagine that he has not drawn a tiger beast for a month, but he does not hesitate to put down his pen.

Zhao Qin subconsciously approached Li Mo, and her eyes were attracted by the patterns on the rice paper.

Li Mo depicts a tiger beast standing on a craggy rock, its body slightly slanted, its eyes staring into the distance, and the markings on its body are like flowing water, reflecting the beastly desire of the mountain monarch.

As the painting took shape, Li Mo realized the strangeness of the ink strips.

The ink strip seems to give life to the tiger beast, causing the painting to become more and more unfamiliar, and the emaciated mountain monarch in the painting has an indescribable ferocity.

Li Mo imitates the "Tiger Roar" by Zhang Shanzi, a master who painted tigers in his previous life, but it may be completely different from the original because of the ink strips, with indescribable horror.

"What a white-fronted worm."

Liu Qin waited until Li Mo stopped writing before speaking, and couldn't help revealing a trace of complexity.

It wasn't a surprise of talent, it felt more like fear or fear.

Liu Qin, who practiced the method, was actually afraid of the white-bodied apprentice, even if it was only for a moment, he was still captured by Li Mo.

Li Mo realized that the pawnshop calligraphy and painting hall was a method that did not involve painting.

He understands that hiding is useless, although he can't show something different from ordinary people, he must show value, otherwise there is no place to stand.

"Li Mo, you ......"

Liu Qin realized that she was a little out of shape, calmed down and said: "I will take this painting to Gu Steward, it has a bit of charm, and it should be appreciated by her." ”

"Thank you, Lord Liu."

Seeing that his goal had been achieved, Li Mo couldn't help but let out a long exhale.

The apprentices around him fell silent, and their eyes looking at Li Mo were filled with all kinds of emotions, jealousy, envy, and resentment.

Liu Qin picked up the tiger roar and left.

Li Mo didn't know if he was mistaken, he noticed that Liu Qin's arm holding the painting was emitting a faint black gas.

The rest of the apprentices couldn't see it at all, probably because of Li Mo's different brains.

The ink on the surface of the tiger roar blurred.

The mountain king in the picture who came down the mountain to hunt for food, the gray and black hair gradually disappeared.

The appearance of the mountain king became more and more unfamiliar, and finally resembled a naked man prostrate on the ground, and his tail was replaced by an exposed backbone.

Li Mo was in a trance, and Liu Qin walked into the fork in the aisle and disappeared.

His temples were faintly swollen, and he packed up his things and returned to the wing.

Li Mo glanced at Zeng Xiaoyi before leaving.

Zeng Xiaoyi slumped on the chair, his bloody hands stained the rice paper red.

The pawn shops don't look like they're picking the right seeds at all, they seem intent on keeping the vast majority of people out.

Li Mo didn't know what it meant, but he would rather die on the path of cultivation than suffer pain and despair of immortality.

For more than ten days after that, he was still busy between the wing room and the calligraphy and painting hall.

But Li Mo never saw Liu Qin again.