"Professor Sakai, if there is a mistake in the restoration of a mural at a monument, is there anything that can be done to make up for it?"

Make up for?

Sakai Kazunari was surprised, he knew that Cao Lao had been careful and careful when he was restoring the ancient murals, could it be that something else happened?

"If it's just one or two mistakes, it's better to stay as it is. Secondary processing is secondary injury, which is also completely helpless. ”

He shook his head.

"What if it's a massive mistake?"

"Large area, how can it be?"

Sakai Kazunari was shocked again, wondering in his heart which stupid person had made such a big deal that made Cao Lao worry and wanted to wipe his ass.

"If it is a large area, there may be no way, the color can only be covered with another layer if the color is light, and the color can only be shoveled off if the color is dark, or slowly washed with chemical fading method, try to make the color lighter."

That is, to preserve the traces of restoration, but let the traces of restoration become the background of the original painting. It's equivalent to a hatching method in disguise. ”

Cao Lao nodded.

"No, this is completely unable to give full play to the advantages of the hatching method without damaging the original monuments, and whether the paint is modified with a painting knife, it may damage the wall structure of the overall mural." Lin Tao raised opposing opinions.

Sakai Yicheng also shook his head and thought about it: "Is it not good, or it is better not to repair." ”

"I know that, but ...... Plans can't keep up with the changes. ”

Cao Lao finally sighed softly.

"Cao Lao, I found the work order, and they registered it themselves."

Lao Yang had already found the task list from the registration office on the side, which clearly read, "No. 17 Mural NO.17 - Wine, Gu." ”

When Masakazu Tanaka saw this scene, he knew in his heart that he hadn't run away.

Gu Weijing and them are really miserable, and they can't argue.

He was sure that he had done things very carefully, and even if the numbered plate was sent for physical identification, he would not leave half of his fingerprints.

Cao Lao didn't say anything, just handed the registration form to Sakai Issei on the side.

"Professor Sakai, see for yourself."

Cao Lao said.

"Huh?"

When Kazunari Sakai saw the name of his precious son on the registration form, his face almost turned green. He knew what mural No. 17 meant.

"Tsunamasa Sakai! Come here! ”

His belly shook violently, like a chartered woman who played the lion's roar in "Kung Fu", and roared loudly.

His name was Tsunamasa Sakai, not Tsunamasa.

Any parent yelling at their child by their full name is a sign of anger.

Sakai Gangchang didn't expect that there would be his own affairs here, he had a full meal of seafood rice at noon, and when others were worshipping the Buddha, he also asked the monk for two futons for a while.

At the moment, he was leisurely strolling behind the crowd.

He didn't care about what happened at all, and was looking forward to a good show with the intention of watching the excitement and not thinking that it would be a big deal, and it would be better if he could just mix up the afternoon's work.

As a result, I suddenly heard my father's unprecedented anger, and quickly ran over.

"What's wrong?"

"Mural No. 17, you signed it?" Kazunari Sakai asked.

"yes, what's wrong?"

Tsunamasa Sakai glanced at the registration form, and he only remembered that he casually took out the top sign from the box and signed it.

Syllable!

Sakai Kazunari directly slapped his son.

Sakai Tsunamasa was stunned, he sat on the ground with his face covered, and his whole person was confused.

In my memory, my father never hit me, not once.

What's going on?

"Well, it's not Gangchang's fault. Even if he took the wrong brand, Gu Weijing shouldn't be unaware of his scribbles of a few catties and taels. ”

Lin Tao, who understood the reason for the matter, no longer had any love for Gu Weijing in his tone at this time.

A madman who doesn't know how high the sky is, he thought to himself.

……

When Gu Weijing, who was covered with paint, stood in front of the "Buddha Protector Map", the moment it fell into everyone's sight.

The chatter in the crowd spread like a buzzing fly.

"What's going on? Why is he here. “

"Isn't this a painting by Cao Lao?"

"Who asked him to paint here, and he dared to paint such intricate murals? Play the piano indiscriminately. ”

Gu Tongxiang immediately realized that something was wrong.

He didn't know what mural No.17 was for.

However, he has carefully paid attention to all the colored murals left to Sun Tzu and these young painters, and there is absolutely no such "Buddha Protector Map" in it.

Thinking of Cao Lao's reaction when he heard Lao Yang's words just now, an ominous premonition appeared in his mind.

He subconsciously wanted to rush up and ask why his grandson was here.

But he was held across his chest by a withered, thin, age-spotted hand.

It's Cao Lao.

“…… Cao Lao, I don't know what's going on, but Gu Weijing is just a child...... I...... I ......" Gu Tongxiang's face turned pale.

Cao Lao was not interested in answering Gu Tongxiang's explanation at all.

He had even ignored Gu Weijing, his eyes were staring at the wall tightly, his eyelids twitching slightly.

Hey?

The fat on Uncle Sakai's stomach quivered, and he also noticed that the paint on the wall was not quite right.

Well?

Lin Tao was only a moment later than Sakai Issei, and he also noticed the change in the paint on the wall, and he grabbed the hair that was about to fall out, shaking incredibly.

At this time, you can see the gap in everyone's experience, and there are constantly experienced artists in murals who are suddenly stunned, and their nasal cavities emit a variety of strange tones, which at first glance sound like an ensemble of high and low voices.

There is a problem,

There's definitely something wrong with the paint on this wall.

It's a little too harmonious. Authentic, not like, but true.

It's as if the ghosts of old painters from centuries ago have traveled through time and space, filling in the gaps on the walls with paint and color.

Although they can all modulate colors to the point of being very similar, they also know that even a small change in color scale will make the final appearance different.

The newly painted paint on the mural in front of them was by no means any of the combinations that these people were familiar with.

"Awesome!"

The original agitation in the crowd soon quieted down, and many people regarded this as Cao Lao's handiwork.

It's just that why is it Gu Weijing who holds the pen?

Is it because he may become his own apprentice grandson, a special opportunity?

But the right to hold the pen for such an important mural is a little tempting even for the younger professors.

In the hands of a young man who is not yet an adult.

I can't think of him too much.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Cao Lao, I'm sorry ......"

Only Gu Tongxiang's mind was not on painting at this time, he bent over and looked at Cao Lao with a look of sincerity and fear.

It's about his grandson, and it doesn't matter what his face is.

"Old Gu, what are you sorry for?" Cao Lao waved his hand, and the corners of his mouth pursed slightly.

How painful his heart was when he sentenced this No. 17 mural to death, and how much joy he felt in his heart now.

The contrasting stimulus brought about by expectation management requires the old gentleman to control the corners of his mouth to keep himself from laughing.