Finest Servant

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Woohoo, I want the recommendation tickets from the brothers, I'm about to be squeezed out of the new book, the tickets, where are the tickets?

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Dong Qiaoqiao said it subconsciously, but she didn't expect to be heard by Lin Wanrong, and she agreed to her, her face was shy, but she was also a little happy. After all, women love beauty, and it is their dream to be able to preserve their youth in the form of canvases.

"Thank you, son." Dong Qiaoqiao said shyly.

Lin Wanrong smiled, wiped his face with the back of his hand, and said to Dong Rende, "Uncle Dong, what do you think?"

Dong Rende gave Lin Wanrong a thumbs up and said, "To the son, I didn't say anything. In addition to admiration, the little old man still admires."

Lin Wanrong finished the rest of the illustrations in one go. This fake Miss Xiao has different expressions, but she is the same beautiful and moving, and she is guaranteed to be fascinated by those talented people.

After Lin Wanrong finished painting the last stroke, he wiped it on his face again, and then he got up and said with a smile: "It's done, let's call it a day."

Dong Qiaoqiao looked at the portraits of the same woman with different shapes in the booklet, her face was full of envy, she glanced at Lin Wanrong, and suddenly covered her mouth and laughed.

"What's wrong?" Lin Wanrong was stunned by her smile, but this girl looked really good when she smiled.

Dong Qiaoqiao took out a handkerchief from her arms, glanced at Lin Wanrong with a blushing face, bit her lip and leaned in front of Lin Wanrong. The handkerchief brought a faint fragrance to Lin Wanrong's face.

Lin Wanrong suddenly realized that it must be the charcoal dust on her face that she would act like this.

However, her move surprised Lin Wanrong. In this era, the defense between men and women is very strict. Even if Dong Qiaoqiao was born in an ordinary family, this action is too intimate. Even in Lin Wanrong's era, only male and female friends would have such actions.

It's not because she thinks badly about me, then I'm in danger. This talented person is born to be messy. Lin Wanrong thought shamelessly. In this day and age, to be honest, he wasn't ready to fall in love yet.

Lin Wanrong hurriedly took a step back, unknowingly rejected her kindness, took her handkerchief naturally, and said with a smile, "I'll do it myself."

Dong Qiaoqiao was stunned for a moment, and also realized what was wrong with her. Her face was flushed. Lin Wanrong hurriedly put the handkerchief on her nose and sniffed it lightly, and said frivolously, "It's really fragrant!"

Dong Qiaoqiao knew that he was deliberately trying to resolve his embarrassment, so he smiled gratefully to Lin Wanrong.

However, frivolity is Lin Wanrong's nature, so there is no need to pretend.

Dong Qiaoqiao's face was dyed with thick rouge, she hummed softly, and did not speak.

Lin Wanrong gave Lao Dong a wink, but Lao Dong was indifferent and didn't know what he was thinking.

Lin Wanrong was a little annoyed in her heart, Xiao Nizi is ignorant, you are not sensible even at your age. Make Lao Tzu angry and eat your precious daughter in one bite, don't blame me.

It's not that Lin Wanrong is hypocritical, but he is relatively unfamiliar with this world and has no psychological preparation for falling in love, so he can only take it slowly.

The father and daughter didn't speak, it was like a pantomime. Lin Wanrong wiped the dust off his face and was about to return it to Dong Qiaoqiao, but it was completely black with dust and dust, and he returned it to her directly, which was a bit embarrassing.

Dong Qiaoqiao smiled indifferently, took the handkerchief from Lin Wanrong and said, "Young Master, I'll do the heavy work."

Seeing her natural demeanor, Lin Wanrong calmed down. After thinking about it, do I feel better about myself? It's so easy for a chick to post back? However, this talented person is handsome and suave, and it is not normal without a chick to post upside down.

Finished sketching with carbon black,

Lin Wanrong asked Dong Qiaoqiao to follow the imprint of the sketch with a brush to make a detailed description, so that the carbon black would not be wiped off.

This is a meticulous work, and although it is painted according to the gourd, a slight error will destroy the whole picture.

Lin Wanrong hadn't had time to tell Dong Qiaoqiao that he was a half-baked talent who couldn't use a brush at all, but Dong Qiaoqiao was also clever and clever. Although he didn't understand why Lin Wanrong didn't use a brush, he didn't ask.

She drew the picture carefully, her little face was full of sweat, she was afraid that she would accidentally destroy the original portrait of Lin Wanrong.

Lin Wanrong felt a touch of touch in her heart. The unconditional trust of their father and daughter in him made Lin Wanrong feel a little warm. I really didn't understand the era in which he was living. Did you grow up eating shit?

Dong Qiaoqiao finally copied all the portraits. Her skillful hands left Lin Wanrong speechless, and even the roundness of the strokes was exactly the same as what Lin Wanrong drew.

Lin Wanrong shook his head and sighed: "Qiaoqiao, you must not marry someone else to be a wife, otherwise, where can I find a skillful hand like you."

Lin Wanrong was familiar with her, so she omitted the word "Miss" and just called her Qiaoqiao.

Dong Qiaoqiao ran out with a blushing face. She probably didn't understand how Lin Wanrong, a talented talented man, suddenly became so vulgar.

After finishing the manual, it was noon, so I handed over the manuscript to Lao Dong and found a printing company to make a quick photocopy.

Lin Wanrong knew that the current photocopying technology was backward. Fortunately, there were not many pages in this booklet. This afternoon and evening, working overtime, it was not bad to be able to produce 500 copies.

Lao Dong has lived in this city for many years, with a flexible mind and a wide network of contacts, which is what Lin Wanrong values ​​him.

Old Dong was about to go out with the manuscript for photocopying, when Lin Wanrong suddenly remembered something, and hurriedly pulled him and said: "Uncle Dong, this matter must be told to the printing house, and it must be kept secret. Especially this manuscript is extremely valuable and falls on It is very easy to copy if it is printed in the hands of others, so be careful. Manuscripts should be returned in time.”

Lin Wanrong has promised the old Dong a huge amount of profits, and there is no intellectual property protection these days. If it is really pirated, it will really be accompanied by nothing, and tell him to complain about grievances. In my own era, even with intellectual property protection, piracy was not the same. So he has to repeatedly tell Lao Dong to keep it secret.

The dinner was settled at the old Dong's house. Lin Wanrong was a lonely man, and he only had a cold stove when he went back. It would be better to chat with their father and daughter. Dong Qingshan also came back, with a look of excitement on his face, obviously the first results.

Dong Qiaoqiao really verified the name of Qiaoqiao once again. Seeing that Lin Wanrong almost swallowed her tongue into her stomach, Dong Qiaoqiao covered her lips and chuckled, her beautiful and simple appearance, with a faint warm feeling.

After dinner, I accompanied Lao Dong to the printing house. Sure enough, money can make a ghost run the mill. Under the lure of a large sum of money that is twice the original price, more than 20 skilled workers in the printing house started working overnight to rush the production. The boss took a photo. The chest guarantees that the five hundred books will be driven out before dawn.

The printing technique here is still very ancient. The original manuscript is first rubbed on kraft paper, and then inked on the paper through the kraft paper. After the handwriting is dry, it is bound into a book. The effect is a little worse, but the portrait and handwriting are still very clear.

This kind of handicraft workshop can produce 500 originals in one afternoon and one night, which is indeed the limit.