Lu Mingfei, the Martial Saint of the Dragon Clan

He cleared his throat and spoke loudly.

"I have to say that it would take ten years of hard work for the teacher to finish this painting."

"But the point is not ten years. The ancients' chain lasted for half a lifetime. Some people held pens since they were sensible and didn't put them down until they died. Calligraphy to the ancients was just like our mobile phones and computers today. It was integrated into life. And stuff in the blood.”

"When it comes to skills, the teacher is definitely not as good as the ancients."

"But a good teacher lies in the spirit in this word."

"Look at this, and this."

"Do you look like a veteran fighting to the death on the battlefield?"

"Is there such a pride here that one person can be a master of millions?"

The more he spoke, the more excited he became, and the man sighed again.

"What's wrong? According to you, isn't the word "teacher" very good?"

"It's good, yes,"

"I'm just sorry that the teacher is still alive.

"what you up to!"

Someone looked at him warily.

"Where are you thinking? You don't understand the art industry. Take calligraphy and painting as an example. Its value mainly consists of two aspects. One is its own artistic value, and the other is scarcity."

"There is no doubt that the artistic value of the teacher's calligraphy is quite high. As for the specific value, I cannot tell from my knowledge."

"But he regrets nothing more than scarcity."

"First of all, this is just the teacher's practice work. As everyone knows about practice, it is common to write more than a dozen pictures every day. In this way, the value will be diluted."

"What's more, practicing the work means that the piece of paper has no story, and the value of a piece of art without a story to tell will shrink even more."

"Lastly, and most importantly."

His tone was solemn.

"The teacher is not dead yet."

"Don't think I'm joking. An artist's life and death can have a profound impact on the value of his works."

"Take Van Gogh as an example. You all know the great painter Van Gogh. He died in his thirties. Because of this, his oil painting Sunflowers, which no one cared about during his lifetime, was auctioned within ten years of Van Gogh's death. The price was as high as nearly 40 million US dollars."

Forty million, in US dollars!

Everyone was shocked and swallowed their saliva.

"So, if the teacher dies one day, and then all his other works are lost, only the one we have is left."

The man pondered for a moment and made a gesture.

"At least, this price."

Everyone was shocked again.

"What about this, this, this?"

"Isn't it just practice? It doesn't have much value and there is no story..."

"Haha, you don't understand this. The stories are not just made up by random people. Do you really think that those antiques are full of emotions and a narrow escape from death? To put it bluntly, most of them are made up to increase the value of these things. "

The man sneered and sighed again.

"What's the pity?"

Someone asked curiously.

"Idiot, didn't I just say that if the teacher dies..."

The words came to an abrupt end.

It was as if a restraining spell had been cast on everyone, their bodies were stiff and unable to move.

"Say, keep talking."

They turned around and saw Lu Mingfei's kind and kind face.

That looks really like the master who used a rolling pin to beat him when he was a child.

At ten o'clock in the evening, the Internet cafe was as usual. The lights were hazy with the mist of low-quality cigarettes. The guy playing the FPS game shook his mouse so hard that it flew up. The guy who lost the game in StarCraft cursed and kicked off his slippers to the counter and threw down a few coins. Got the ice tea and left.

The girl sighed and swept the coins into the drawer.

"You don't even say thank you. If you are uneducated, you are uneducated!"

Someone roughly opened the curtain and stumbled onto the counter. His upper body was draped over the counter, while his lower body was spread out on the ground like mud.

The strong smell of alcohol went straight into the girl's nose, and she frowned. It was unlucky to meet another drunkard.

Those who work as network administrators these days are either middle school students who have escaped from school to play games, or they are idle gangsters in society. They regard the young and Dangerous boys in Hong Kong movies as their spiritual idols, and call each other Brother Pheasant to take the next seat. In the evening Either drink or stay up all night. If you have wine today, you will be drunk today. No matter whether you live or die tomorrow.

Especially on the night shift, sometimes the girl would meet seven or eight drunkards in one night. After finally dealing with it, she went back to buy lottery tickets, thinking that if she was lucky enough to win five million, she would be a shady person, so she took a look at the lottery draw the next day. , the good guy missed his bet.

Only then did the girl realize that the luck she had with seven or eight drunkards that night was called bad luck. It was mainly about losing money, and it had nothing to do with winning the lottery.

Sighing, the girl's face sank, and she got ready to deal with the drunkard in front of her.

"Xiaoya..."

The drunkard had obviously drank a lot, and was muttering something in his mouth. It was too blurry to hear clearly, but the occasional "Xiaoya" could be heard clearly.

Probably because of proficiency. The more you scream, the more practice makes perfect. I guess this person also talks about it in his dreams except when he is drunk.

After hearing this, the network management girl looked at the drunkard's face again. The main reason was that the man's hair was too long and covered most of it.

"you again!"

The girl's face was covered with frost as she recognized the person.

This drunkard is considered a celebrity in her Internet cafe. His nickname is Long Mao. He doesn't have a serious job. He comes here every three days and stays up all night. He staggers away like a zombie in Resident Evil at dawn, and comes again at dusk. Occasionally, like this guy, he gets drunk somewhere, and the person on duty just turns on his phone and throws the long hair on the chair, and that's it. At least this person gives him money and never owes him anything for surfing the Internet. cost.

There are a few hairy-looking people in the Internet cafe. They all consider this place their home. They can just turn on the computer for the whole night. Where can I find such conditions as air conditioning and hot water for 20 yuan? It’s just the keyboard and yelling. Some, just get used to it.

Network administrators usually don't rush. After all, it's not easy for everyone. When the girl is on duty, she will occasionally give buckets of instant noodles. When others say thank you to her, she will say with a cold face that it's a pity to throw away the ones before the due date. If Lu Mingfei is here, she must be familiar with it. Sister, you said the same to me.

The network management girl looked at the shaggy drunkard quietly with eyes as if she saw flies buzzing around in a garbage dump. His eyes were cold and contemptuous.

The long-haired drunkard bent over to vomit as if he was trying to reincarnate, but the girl said coldly.

"If you want to vomit outside, don't bother me here."

Shaggy doesn’t listen.

He vomited twice, but it was just soup and water without any formed food residue. He must have finished vomiting long ago, or he simply didn't eat anything decent and just drank there.

The network management girl made a sound, took a bottle of mineral water from the shelf, and opened it neatly.

"It's one dollar and a half. I'll put it in your account. Remember to pay it back when you wake up tomorrow morning."

Changmao was already sitting on the ground. When he heard the girl's voice, he raised his face in a daze and put the mineral water to his mouth. Changmao didn't drink it, but just looked at the girl quietly.

Suddenly he laughed.

Changmao grinned and giggled, saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth, and he suddenly reached out his hand to touch the girl's face. His tongue was still mumbling incoherently due to his drunkenness.

"Xiaoya...Xiaoya, what's wrong with you...Xiaoya..."

The webmaster girl slapped his hand away.

Crisp and loud like a slap in the face.

The people playing the game nearby were startled and stuck their heads out to see the excitement. When they discovered it was a spear, they curled their lips, said something boring and continued playing the game.