Su Qingluan except for the previous time in order to convince his "students", he basically would not show his painting skills in front of so many people.

It's not that Su Qingluan deliberately hides her edge, it's just because she is lazy, and it takes a lot of effort and effort to draw a picture, so she is too lazy to move.

But more importantly, she felt that she was temporarily better at drawing than others, and that it was only a time advantage - she learned the art of sketching when it was mature, and then turned to teach it to people with no relevant experience, even if it was a temporary advantage in the craft, it was not commendable.

After three or five years, or even one or two years, there are those people who are extremely talented, both in terms of technology and ideas, who have surpassed their own level.

Su Qingluan didn't care about it - anyway, she just learned sketching to grind her temperament like learning calligraphy, plus some auxiliary help for food carving, and she didn't plan to have too much artistic attainments in it.

Since there are no lofty ideals, naturally there is no too deep competitive spirit, so even if others draw better than her or worse than her, Su Qingluan doesn't feel anything.

However, the promised portrait still couldn't cope with it, Su Qingluan looked at Mu Xingzhi's facial features.

There was no time to paint portraits, Su Qingluan painted very carefully, but after all, the foundation was still there, and after the composition was completed, Su Qingluan actually regained a little bit of his previous feel.

Today it was still autumn outside, the morning sun was very bright and sprinkled most of the room, and the reflection of the mottled window lattices was reflected on the ground, so that Mu Xingzhi, who was sitting at the table, even had a clear look on his face.

Su Qingluan asked Mu Xingzhi to make any moves, but it was best not to make too large movements in the first half hour, so Mu Xingzhi took a book and slowly flipped through it in the sun.

Su Qingluan watched this person's eyelashes flicker in the sun, as if they were a small brush, and couldn't help but silently burst out with a thick sentence: Is this eyelash too foul? I really want to tear it off and stick it on my eyelids!

Su Qingluan was doing the initial overall composition, so he raised his eyes to look at Mu Xingzhi from time to time, and this scene also fell into the gossip expressions of the "students" in the still life group copying next to him.

Of course, these people are certainly not allowed to talk to each other, but the abundance of facial expressions can be included in the teaching guide for micro-expression activities.

Su Qingluan watched these people squeeze their eyebrows at each other, and was really afraid that one of them would accidentally have crooked eyes and slanted facial cramps, so he coughed lightly and said very understandingly: "So curious about the content of my painting, when the class is over, you can come and see it - now finish your own painting!" ”

The last half of the sentence aggravated the tone a little, and everyone drew their own honestly.

Su Qingluan asked the people to form a circle in front of the still life group to be painted, so that each person observed a different angle, so that the light and composition would be affected.

So Su Qingluan didn't worry about them copying each other - after all, the angles were different, and it was pointless to copy.

Su Qingluan saw that these people were quiet, and then shifted his gaze to Mu Xingzhi.

Through the sunlight, Su Qingluan could feel that this man's face was unhealthy in the true sense.

Originally, under the warm light of the sun, the red blood in the human body would be revealed a little bit. For example, if you close your eyes in a sunny situation and "look" in the direction of the sunlight through your eyelids, you will find that the hue in your field of vision is not completely dark, but a little red.

This is the color of the blood under the eyelids, which is captured by the optic nerve.

But this situation did not happen at all on Mu Xingzhi's face - even in the warm sunlight, his face was like a white alabaster, without blood, and even the lips that should have been the most blood-colored were exposed to a layer of weak gray.

If it weren't for seeing Mu Xingzhi standing up very steadily, Su Qingluan would definitely think that the person in front of him was so weak that he couldn't even open his eyes.

Su Qingluan made a sketch and began to trace Mu Xingzhi's facial features. As she painted, she frowned at the man's face with a puzzled expression, but lowered her head and started to write.

It's just that the confused feeling on her face didn't disappear, but as the graphite pen fell stroke by stroke, the feeling of discord became clearer and clearer.

Probably because he had something to do, Su Qingluan felt that this class passed quickly.

Looking at the still lifes drawn by several students, Su Qingluan chose the ones with relatively regular shapes, such as tea bowls, pen holders, etc., without too complicated ornamentation and modeling.

And Su Qingluan didn't want to let these people sketch still life vividly, but just let them get used to groping for the perspective relationship between objects and objects—this is also the biggest feature why sketching is different from traditional Chinese ink painting or gongbi painting.

It can be seen that although these classes were not attended, they did not throw away the weight of connection.

Although sketching still depends on talent and artistry to a certain extent, the hard work when laying the foundation is not at all.

Everyone can see that there has been a certain degree of progress from lines to composition to the presentation of light and shadow - of course, half a month is not enough to make people's jaws drop.

Su Qingluan made a simple correction for everyone, and when she looked at everyone, she couldn't help but glance over at her drawing board, so she sighed, turned around and asked Mu Xingzhi: "Out of respect for the subject of the painting, I think I still have to ask for your opinion-can these people look at you as I painted you?" ”

Mu Xingzhi obviously didn't mind, so Su Qingluan's drawing board was immediately surrounded by people-

"Wow!" There was an exclamation.

Although Su Qingluan had already painted Songbo once last time, it was to convince everyone, and the time was relatively short, so the handling was relatively rough.

And this time, Su Qingluan spent half a day composing the pen without distraction, and naturally there was more energy to refine the whole or the details, and even everyone could feel the sunshine through this sketch.

A few people sighed, but Su Qingluan didn't lose his heart and let everyone hand over a 500-word review of the aftermath, and let them go with kindness.

Turning around, Su Qingluan looked at Mu Xingzhi, who was still reading motionlessly: "You can move freely now-this painting is given to you, and it is really ...... The subject of the painting is outstanding, and it is pleasing to the eye when you look at the finished product. ”

Mu Xingzhi raised his eyes and smiled when he heard this: "Although I have never given up on my appearance for inferiority, but this dignity is not considered 'outstanding', right?" ”

Su Qingluan smiled: "It's not about your face, it's about your bone appearance is very good, but it's just a little very strange." ”

"What's weird?" Mu Xingzhi recalled her puzzled expression and put down the book in her hand.

"Although your facial features are mediocre, only your eyes are very beautiful," Su Qingluan smiled, "To be honest, I think only your eyes are worthy of your beautiful bones!" ”