Today's Yangon, there is no rain or clouds.

The sunlight carries strong ultraviolet rays from the sky, coating the towering golden pagoda with a layer of Buddha light, and adding a bit of summer-like heat to the air.

In the nearby Buddhist temples, monks rang the bell for fasting.

Sakai Tsunamasa put down his paintbrush and stretched out in relief. He went to the staff to hand over the paintbrush and paint, and his stomach rattled.

"I want to eat Thai food at noon today...... I heard that there is a home in the old house on Wa Dan Street, and the seafood is very fresh. ”

There is a unified lunch break from 11:00 noon to 2:00 pm every day.

This is a sacred place for Buddhism, and if you are a member of the mural restoration project team, you can go to the monks' hall at any time with your work permit when you are hungry.

Vegetarian dishes such as white porridge, side dishes, and vegetarian meat are always available, as well as Burmese vinegar-based sour rice noodles and fried noodles.

The meal is still quite exquisite, and it is a good choice to change the taste occasionally, and many vegetarians among the art professors are a little refreshing.

But if you can't accept a vegetarian diet, you don't have to eat in a monastery.

Yangon is a tourist city, and there are many restaurants of various styles, but the meat outside cannot be brought into the Shwedagon Pagoda.

Tsunamasa Sakai had already reserved a seat at the hotel on his mobile phone in advance.

He saw that Gu Weijing was still picking and choosing among the piles of paint, his eyes were fixed on the manuscript spread out on the table, as if he was thinking about something.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

He rubbed his shoulders and asked Gu Weijing.

"Hmm."

Gu Weijing didn't want to eat, he was picking out the right cinnabar on the table.

Practice is the only criterion for testing the truth, and he wants to quietly test whether the statements in the Maha Script make sense when he is alone at noon.

In order to maintain consistency with other walls, the mural restoration process did not use any modern artificial polymerization chemical pigments, and completely restored the craftsmanship of the painters hundreds or even thousands of years ago.

Among the long table pigment supplies are ready-made cinnabar ink ingots.

Artists who are looking for the original are very discerning, and the pigments provided here by Yangon are of the highest quality.

Gu Weijing picked up a cardboard box that looked a little yellow, and found that it was the old cinnabar mine produced by the Chenzhou Ink Factory in Dongxia State-owned Xiang Province.

Since the beginning of the Han Dynasty, Chenzhou has produced the best quality cinnabar, and in the notes in his mind, Wang Wei called cinnabar cinnabar, which is why.

In modern times, with the requirements of environmental protection and the depletion of ore veins, many of the best quality natural ore veins have been closed from mining and replaced with synthetic products.

He saw the appearance time of this batch of cinnabar ink on the steel seal of the box, which was generally the old cinnabar ink from the fifties and sixties. There is even a piece of ink with a brush that reads the mark of the 27th year of the Republic of China, which is almost a hundred years old.

These ink strips themselves are half antiques, although they have not yet reached the point where they can be auctioned for miscellaneous items, but it is not difficult to change a random piece of the latest Apple mobile phone.

Painters themselves are really a very money-burning business.

"You haven't done enough coloring?"

"Uh-huh."

"Cut ......"

Sakai Tsunamasa subconsciously wanted to complain.

But he seemed to have thought of something, looked left and right, and made sure that there was no round figure of Uncle Sakai around, and then he put his mind at ease.

Tsunamasa Sakai shook his hair and said coolly.

"A true artist is one who doesn't disdain to do the work of a painter."

"Uh-huh."

"What do you mean all the time."

"Uh-huh."

Gu Weijing didn't raise his head, and took out a piece of red cinnabar the size of a baby's fist from the inside of the box.

Cinnabar Mine ...... Well...... It is not uncommon to use red paint, but in the frescoes...... It's too easy to precipitate, and it's hard to grasp the degree...... Can it really achieve the same good effect as in Wang Wei's notes...... It's worth a try.

Gu Weijing had been immersed in the newly obtained notes for a long time, and he repeatedly studied the paint recipe that came to his mind, and a large amount of information flowed through his mind every second.

He didn't want to speak, and he didn't even quite notice what Sakai Tsunamasa was talking about.

"Pretending."

Tsunamasa Sakai felt insulted, and he whispered.

"I'll be honest with you. This afternoon, my father's old painters will follow Cao Lao to the Zodiac Buddha Shrine (a Buddhist feature of Burma) to pour water and pray according to the local tradition. It won't be back until at least three or four o'clock, and no one will be able to see you working hard here. ”

"Huh?"

Gu Weijing raised his head, and finally his tone changed.

"Oh, in that case, do me a favor and get me another mission card. I estimate that it will take another half an hour to paint Wall No. 9 and it will be finished. “

"Okay, good, you love to do it."

Sakai Tsunamasa muttered a small sentence, "Being a craftsman is useless." ”

He turned around and swaggered away.

In fact, he said that he was tough, and Sakai Tsunamasa still had some admiration in his heart that he didn't want to admit.

He just didn't understand why anyone would want to stand in front of a picture for a day. Just like he didn't understand why his sister had been more favored by older painters than he had since she was a child.

Masakazu Tanaka, who has been quietly paying attention here, has taken in everything that is happening here.

The bet he made with Gu Weijing was that the winner stayed, and the loser got out.

But the bet doesn't say that the identity of the painter or leaving the project is still the same.

Therefore, Tanaka was cheeky and continued to stay in the project as a staff member.

Although there was no substantial loss, in the past few days, Tanaka found that even his classmates at Tama Academy of Fine Arts sometimes looked at him with undisguised mockery.

After all, a painter has to speak with his paintings.

Tanaka is with such a person, it's not that no one in the school knows what kind of character he is.

On weekdays, there may be five or six people who are quite majestic, but when they are defeated by a Yangon native in their own competition, there will be no fewer people who fall into the ground.

He now hates Gu Weijing very much, and even the Sakai sisters and brothers who are involved in it are also resentful.

"Change the brand." - Tanaka Masakazu is going to teach this somewhat talented Yangon native a lesson, and this is the way he came up with it.

A sneer tugged at the corners of his mouth.

For the staff, the murals are divided into three grades – Special, First, and Second, which correspond to the difficulty of painting and restoring the murals.

The more influential, age-old and valuable the mural, the higher the level, and the more experienced painters are in charge.

All the murals assigned to the young painters were of the simplest second class.

He noticed that every time Tsunamasa Sakai came to receive the task, he didn't check what his number was, so he just signed it with a big grin.

He was going to quietly change the murals assigned to Gu Weijing and Sakai Tsunamasa from the second class to the special wall of the seventeenth wall.

This is not a chance for the other party to perform, this trick is called a kill.

Put yourself in your shoes, a young art dog painted a mural of an old painter without permission - the painting is naturally an arrogant person who does not know the height of the sky, and has become another joke in the circle.

It's impossible to draw better, and you're lucky enough to paint about the same as the old painters.

I really thought that those old painters were all moral saints, and when they saw your works, they were shocked and shouted that the future of this son is limitless.

Don't be naïve, friend.

The reality is more likely - what, what the fuck do you kid want to do, are you here to smash the field or do you want to step on me to be famous?

Even if you have shit luck, if you really paint not bad compared to experienced painters, you can still count it as a revenge.

This trick is about to be played rotten in the entertainment industry.

Tanaka Masawa was also at the wine table listening to the head of the Gokudo group, who was drinking with his father, Team leader Tanaka, who was inextricably linked to TV Tokyo.

At that time, even the people at the table were girls who had just joined the idol group.

The team leader boasted that in the RB entertainment industry, encountering a thorn in the disobedience to him is one of the best ways to use.

There is no need for coercion and inducement.

What is the famous song that ranks newcomers in variety shows with a higher tune than their predecessors; asked the newcomer who didn't know anything to go to the dressing room exclusive to the big guy, and then turned his head and told the big guy that the other party was playing a big name...... It's a similar approach anyway.

The feud is also over, on one side is a newcomer, on the other side is a senior, as long as you don't encounter someone whose singing skills are too exaggerated, you don't need to say much if you can't get off the stage.

That Extreme Road leader can even pretend to be a good brother on the side.

Come so casually, the other party will either cry and shout obediently and beg him to mediate, or he will get out.

Masawa Tanaka, who listened at the dinner table, broke out in a cold sweat.