Almighty Your Persona Has Collapsed

When the president was equal to Yong, he asked someone to investigate Jiang Xinran's matter.

I learned that Jiang Xinran's painting style is not only realistic painting, but also good at flower and bird painting just like Yu Yong.

There is a specialization in art, and the style and content of Jiang Xinran's paintings are too different from the picture of the old man with a dead wood, so when he saw Jiang Xinran, the president was not so excited.

As he spoke, he had slowly unfolded the picture of the old man with dead wood.

Yu Yong stared at the picture intently. He was still thinking about how the president met Jiang Xinran. Now when he saw the picture of the old man with a withered tree, he finally understood.

He is very accomplished in traditional Chinese painting. Although he is not as good as the president, he can still identify the aura and good or bad of a painting. This picture of the old man with dead wood has certain flaws in layout and technique. The painter looks very impetuous , but the artistic conception has reached a certain level.

It is a very inspirational painting.

"I know this box, this painting..." Yu Yongjing calmed down, thought for a long time, and then slowly explained: "The president doesn't know, I have another niece, my brother-in-law has always hoped that I can Accept her to learn painting, this painting was sent by him..."

Jiang Xinran beside him, from astonishment to fear, had fingernails hanging on both sides deeply embedded in his palm.

It wasn't until Yu Yong finished the last sentence that Jiang Xinran breathed a sigh of relief.

Listening to Yu Yong's explanation, the president frowned slightly, "You mean, this painting wasn't drawn by your niece, it was a picture that your brother-in-law specially found for you to accept as an apprentice?"

If this painting was really drawn by a girl under the age of 20, then she has unlimited potential. If it was drawn by a master of traditional Chinese painting, it would be worthless. These students who are less than 20 years old can still make qualitative progress. But a master of traditional Chinese painting has already reached the ceiling, and it is difficult to improve.

"I asked her." Yu Yong had calmed down now, and slowly explained to the president, "She has only studied Chinese painting for a few months, and her learning is messy. It cannot be her."

Yu Yong already knew what kind of person Meng Fu was.

If she was really accomplished in this area, she wouldn't be in the entertainment circle now.

Yu Yong was too sure, after all, she was also his niece, so he shouldn't hide anything. After listening to the president, he nodded slightly, said nothing, and let the two leave.

Yu Yong and Jiang Xinran came with excitement, but the joy was in vain.

Yu Yong felt relieved, he didn't intend to hold too much expectation, he just turned around and said to Jiang Xinran, "You and your mother go back first, I'll go see them."

Yu Zhenling was still anxiously waiting for news from the two of them outside the door. Seeing Jiang Xinran coming out, she hurried up to meet her, her eyes sparkling: "How's it going? What did the president tell you?"

Seeing Yu Zhenling, Jiang Xinran opened her mouth, and subconsciously didn't say about Meng Fu, "He made a mistake."

Here, Meng Fu had already finished eating with Mr. Jiang.

Mr. Jiang wanted to send her back, but Meng Fu refused. She tilted her head and said, "No, my assistant will send me to the training camp later."

"Alright then," the old man set his eyes on the car approaching not far away, "I'll see you go first."

Zhao Fan, Su Di, Su Cheng and the others didn't like Jiang's family very much, so Su Cheng parked the car far away and turned on the lights.

After Meng Fu got into the car, the old man looked away. He looked at Jiang Quan, his smile narrowed, "I won't ask your wife for dinner next time."

**

the next day.

Training camp dormitory.

As soon as Chu Yue left the dormitory, she saw Meng Fuchen running back. She glanced at Meng Fu, paused, and then said, "Meng Fu, Ye Shuning has been strengthening training these days, why don't you go to class?" ?”

She was talking about Lu Haichao's class.

Meng Fu buttoned up the hood of his sweater, went to get a towel to take a bath: "Go and see your sister."

"Oh." Chu Yue said, there were six people in the group, and the others didn't have as many opportunities as Ye Shuning, but they all worked hard to train their performances, just to not be so embarrassing on the international stage.

She took the mask and put it on for herself, took a step, then remembered something, turned her head, looked at Meng Fu's back, hesitated to speak.

Meng Fu didn't turn his head back, and said concisely: "Say."

"Just..." Chu Yue said with a straight face, "My sister said thank you..."

"You're welcome," Meng Fu put the towel on his shoulders, remembering something, "Is she cute?"

When mentioning her younger sister, other expressions appeared on Chu Yue's rare face, "It's okay."

"I'll go see your sister when I have time." Meng Fu closed the bathroom door.

Standing outside the door, Chu Yue let out a deep breath.

As soon as he opened the door, he saw Zhao Fan raising his hand to knock on the door.

Zhao Fan came today to talk about variety shows with Meng Fu. After she greeted Chu Yue, she waited for Meng Fu in the dormitory.

Meng Fu didn't urge her while she was taking a shower, she just lowered her head and frowned and flipped through the long-term contract in her hand, ""A Day of the Star" is just this week, and the topic on Weibo is already creating momentum. The two men, Che Shao, are fine. You and Sheng Jun will definitely be trampled on."

"Best Idol" has just finished broadcasting, and Meng Fu has been a hot topic recently, and "A Day of a Star" obviously doesn't want to miss this popularity.

"The final qualifier happened to be the night after the live broadcast," Zhao Fan said with a headache, "The time is too tight."

While she was talking, there was a rapid ringtone. Zhao Fan glanced and saw that it was Meng Fu's mobile phone on the table. The incoming call was a series of unknown local numbers, "Call, local."

Zhao Fan raised his head and shouted towards the bathroom.

She has always respected Meng Fu's privacy.

"Pick it up." Meng Fu's voice came faintly from the bathroom.

Zhao Fan picked up the call from the Painting Association.

When Meng Fu came out of the bathroom, he saw Zhao Fan sitting on her chair, looking thoughtful.

Meng Fu wore a long, loose T-shirt, held a towel in his hand and pressed it on his head casually, dragged aside Chu Yue's stool next door, and sat down with his legs slightly crossed.

"You had dinner with your grandpa last night, did you tell your uncle to be his disciple? The General Artists Association asked you to go there," Zhao Fan put down the file, surprised, "If that's the case, then you will live broadcast variety shows this time." It won't be pulled too hard..."

The last time Yu Zhenling talked about the painting association, Zhao Fan wanted Meng Fu to agree.

"No." Meng Fu moved his computer over while wiping his hair, and turned it on.

"Then why did the Painting Association seek you?" Zhao Fan opened his mouth.

Meng Fu took a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap with one hand, and said lazily, "Who knows."

**

I don't know the meaning of the painting association, but Zhao Fan still urged Meng Fu to leave the painting association.

In the eyes of ordinary people, the existence of the General Painting Association is like the Beijing University in the capital. These are places where gods gather.

Some people haven't even seen it.

T City General Painting Association is also a tourist attraction, but like Beijing University, the Painting Association must have a student card to enter, so it is extremely mysterious in the eyes of ordinary people.

Zhao Fan took Meng Fu to the painting association, and the people inside confirmed that the president was looking for Meng Fu, and took Meng Fu and Zhao Fan to the president's office very respectfully.

"President of the painting association?" Zhao Fan's complexion changed.

She naturally knows who the president of the painting association is. To her, this is like, you are a beggar, and suddenly you hear that the magistrate wants to see you in person.

The president changed into a blue long-distance runner today.

His hair was slightly white, and his face was obviously gentle, but when Zhao Fan looked at him, there was an indescribable majesty that made people dare not look directly into his eyes.

"Sit down," the president raised his hand towards them, and asked someone to take out the painting from last night. His eyes glanced at Zhao Fan, and then at Meng Fu, with a kind tone, "I came to you today to ask you, Who painted this painting?"

As he spoke, the people around him had already lifted up the painting.

Zhao Fan looked up at the raised painting, she was an outsider and couldn't see any way.

But the painting mentioned by the president of the painting association is certainly not simple.

Zhao Fan couldn't help but look at Meng Fu again.

Meng Fu kept looking down at the phone, and when he heard the question, he raised his head neither humble nor overbearing, glanced at the painting, and said calmly, "I drew it."

"Pfft—" Zhao Fan, who had been nervous all the time, couldn't help turning his head to look at Meng Fu.

The bottom of the eyes can't bear to look directly.

She drew it?

Zhao Fan couldn't help thinking of the information that Meng Fu filled out when he signed the contract on the first day. Meng Fu only filled in interviews, piano, chess, calligraphy and painting, and he was not good at everything, let alone studying.

Now that she said such big words, she was still talking to the president of the painting association. If it got out, Zhao Fan could imagine what kind of black material would be swept up on the Internet, so she winked at Meng Fu.

"You?" The president narrowed his eyes a little, and he couldn't help laughing when he looked at Meng Fuqing's lingering eyes.

"En." Meng Fu nodded again, although she was beaten out by her master, but she dared to act.

The president suppressed his smile, asked the people around him to set up the rice paper and painting utensils, and looked at Meng Fu lightly: "Here are the paper and brushes, let me see if you draw another one."

When Zhao Fan heard this, the pores on his body exploded, and he suddenly turned to look at Meng Fu, the president is not so easy to fool!

**

...... The weather is good