In the following days, Wang Fan took root in this small shop, although his daily life was very dull, but it made him feel like a gust of fresh wind, blowing away the dust in Wang Fan's heart.

Gradually, Wang Fan seemed to have completely forgotten the hundreds of years of cultivation and killing before, and perhaps he also completely sealed that memory in the depths of his heart.

His whole person, and even his heart, were completely integrated into this period of mortal life, living the life of mortals, and also for the sake of not having that ethereal Heavenly Dao.

Every day Wang Fan works at sunrise and sunset, since opening the door of the store, Wang Fan comes to the painting table, leans over the desk to paint, and the whole store is full of Wang Fan's paintings.

If you look closely, the skill of Wang Fan's paintings is growing almost every day, at first making rapid progress, but later, it is getting slower and slower.

Wang Fan doesn't care about this at all, because if you care, then it's a failure.

As Wang Fan got in touch with Zeng Lin's family, gradually, the surrounding neighbors also knew that the shop had changed owners, a young man who could paint.

For Wang Fan, especially him, there is a kind atmosphere, and everyone can't help but feel good.

With the passage of time, Wang Fan's shop has also become famous here, but it is only limited to here.

Even if some guests came here and found these lifelike paintings of Wang Fan, they were frightened by the price of these paintings.

The cheapest painting costs ten taels of gold, who has so much money to make such a painting and go home!

Of course, they didn't know that this painting was almost equivalent to the full force of a third-layer Qi cultivator, and even if it was a spirit stone, it would cost about a hundred.

Ten taels of gold is really nothing, of course, this is also a person who has not met a real knowledgeable person, otherwise Wang Fan's paintings would have made a lot of money by selling them.

In the blink of an eye, a year passed quietly, and Wang Fan gradually got used to this kind of life.

In the past year, although Wang Fan has walked around the city many times, he has never seen the mysterious old man again.

During this time, he thought of this old man with advanced cultivation from time to time, but slowly, he forgot about this person.

Since he can't find it, he won't look for it, after all, it's an old monster in the game world and his cultivation is profound, and he doesn't want to find him by himself, so he definitely can't find him.

Almost most of the paintings in the store are demon beasts, after all, Wang Fan has hunted the most in his life are those demon beasts.

The same kind of monks, after all, he killed less, first from Wangjia Village, and then those monks that Wang Fan met on the way to practice.

Gradually, the cultivation of the monks he painted became higher and higher, and below these paintings, as long as Wang Fan knew, there was a person's name below.

At this time, above the rice paper, there was a tiger-shaped demon beast, and as Wang Fan drew it one by one, the tiger-shaped demon beast became clearer and clearer.

The spiritual pressure emitted from it is also getting stronger and stronger, but because of Wang Fan, it has not leaked a trace.

After Wang Fan drew a tiger whisker, he reached out and picked up the wine jug next to him, and when he was about to drink it, he found that it was already empty.

Seeing this, Wang Fan couldn't help but show a wry smile, really, he had become an alcoholic.

In his heart, he was thinking, why didn't Zeng Lei, the kid, send the wine over, usually at this time, he had already come over with the wine jug, and watched him paint by the way.

Sure enough, it didn't take long for Zeng Lei to pick up a wine jug, his face was flushed, and he ran over panting, but compared with a year ago, he was much stronger.

Seeing this, Wang Fan couldn't help but show a wry smile, saying that the fame of his shop is inseparable from the little guy Zeng Lei.

Since there are always no guests here, Zeng Lei will help Wang Fan promote it every time a guest buys wine at their house.

If he had the chance, he would have pulled those people to him, but of course, there were not many people who knew the goods, and in the end, without exception, all of them returned empty-handed.

When he came to Wang Fan, he immediately complained and said: "Uncle Wang, you tell my father, he talks every day and asks me to learn to make wine with him, but I want to learn painting from you." ”

As he spoke, his little face showed a rare hint of seriousness, and he propped his hands on the table and looked at Wang Fan in front of him.

Seeing this, Wang Fan smiled slightly, but he didn't reply, after all, he was not good at interfering in this kind of thing.

Stretched out his hand to take the wine jug brought by Zeng Lei, immediately handed it to his mouth and took a sip, and a burst of pears mixed with the smell of wine suddenly rose from his abdomen, spicy and sweet, so it became his daily necessity.

"Uncle Wang, what are you painting this time, why do I look like a tiger!" Looking at the painting on the table, Zeng Lei said with some confusion in his eyes.

Hearing this, Wang Fan smiled slightly, touched Zeng Lei's head, and said with a smile: "This is not a tiger, it is called Xue Yan, although it looks a little like a tiger, but it is much stronger than the tiger I gave you, and you can swallow your white tiger in one bite." ”

Hearing this, Zeng Lei didn't seem to understand, and his eyes were still a little confused, but he nodded habitually.

He has seen almost every painting here, but he doesn't know why Wang Fan is the same age as his father, but why he can know so many strange creatures and be able to paint them.

These creatures, before he met Wang Fan, he had never seen them, which could be described as unprecedented.

Not to mention him, even the vast majority of the monks in this Cangyue Country, I'm afraid they won't know it, some of these demon beasts are unique to the Chaos Sea.

For example, this snow disgust, when he was hunting, he had the cultivation of the late stage of the Yudan, and the average monk of the late stage of the Yudan could not resist it at all, and if he was not careful, he would be buried in his mouth.

But for Wang Fan, it is nothing, in front of him with an extreme realm, during the Dan period, he is not afraid of any monks and demon beasts, and he has killed too much.

Therefore, he did this painting very smoothly, and as for painting it according to the snow in his heart.

Half an hour later, Wang Fan did most of this painting, and only Xueyi's eyes remained.

I saw Wang Fan's pen suddenly move in his eyes, and suddenly the painting seemed to come to life, exuding a burst of ferocity.

The beast looked up at the sky, looked up to the sky and roared, and an invisible wave of qi spread out in all directions in a state invisible to mortals.

It's just that at the moment when this wave of qi just came out of the rice paper, Wang Fan's pen tip was lightly clicked, and he suddenly disappeared without a trace.