When President was equal to Yong, he asked people to investigate Jiang Xinran's affairs.
I learned that Jiang Xinran's style of painting is not only realistic, but the type he is good at is like Yu Yong, flower and bird painting.
Specializing in the art industry, Jiang Xinrans style and content are too far apart from that of the old dead wood, so when he saw Jiang Xinran, the president was not so excited.
As he said, he had slowly unfolded the picture of the old withered wood.
Yu Yong stared at the picture intently. He was still thinking about how the president would meet Jiang Xinran. At this time, when he saw this picture of the old man with a dead tree, he finally understood.
He is very accomplished in Chinese painting. Although he is not as good as the president, he can also recognize the aura and quality of a painting. This withered old man picture has certain flaws in the layout and technique, and the painter looks very impetuous. , But it has reached a certain level in artistic conception.
is a very spiritual painting.
"I know this box, this painting..." Yu Yongjing settled down and thought for a long time before slowly explaining: "The president does not know something. 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 shock to fear, the fingernails hanging on both sides could not help being deeply embedded in the palm.
Until Yu Yong finished the last sentence, Jiang Xinran was relieved.
Listening to Yu Yongs explanation, the president frowned slightly, "You mean, this painting is not painted by your niece, but is it your brother-in-law looking for a picture specially for your apprenticeship?"
If this painting is really painted by Meng Fu, a girl who is less than twenty years old, then she has unlimited potential. If it was painted by a master of Chinese painting, it would be of little value. These students under twenty years of age can still make qualitative progress. But a master of traditional Chinese painting has reached the ceiling, and it is difficult to improve.
"I asked her," Yu Yong had calmed down at this moment, and slowly explained to the chairman, "She has only been studying Chinese painting for a few months before and after, and her studies are messy. It can't be her."
Yu Yong already knows what kind of person Meng Fu is.
If she is really accomplished in this area, she wont be in the entertainment circle now.
Yu Yong is too sure, after all, that is also his niece, he should not conceal anything. After hearing this, the president nodded slightly and said nothing, letting the two leave.
Yu Yong and Jiang Xinran came with excitement, but the joy was empty.
Yu Yong was also relieved. He didn't intend to hold too much expectation, but turned around and said to Jiang Xinran, "You and your mother will go back first, and I will go see them."
Yu Zhenling was still waiting anxiously for news from the two outside the door. Seeing Jiang Xinran came out, she hurriedly greeted her, her eyes brightened: "How is it? What did the president tell you?"
Seeing Yu Zhenling, Jiang Xinran opened her mouth, and subconsciously did not say about Meng Fu, "He made a mistake."
Here, Meng Fu has finished eating with Mr. Jiang.
Elder Jiang wanted to send her back, but was rejected by Meng Fu. She tilted her head and said, "No, my assistant will send me to the training camp later."
"Let's do it," the old man cast his gaze on the car coming not far away, "I'll watch you go first."
Zhao Fan, Su and Su Cheng, these people don't like the Jiang family very much. Su Cheng parked the car far across the road and turned on the lights.
After Meng Fu got in the car, the old man looked back. He looked at Jiang Quan and smiled, "I won't find your wife next time for dinner."
**
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 said, "Meng Fu, Ye Shuning has been strengthening training these days, why don't you go to the class? ?"
She was talking about Lu Haichao's class.
Meng Fu buttoned the hat of his sweater and went to take a bath with a towel: "Look at your sister."
"Oh." Chu Yue said, and there were six people in a group. The others did not have as many opportunities as Ye Shuning, but they all worked hard to train their performances, just to be less embarrassed on the international stage.
She took a mask and put it on herself. After taking a step, she remembered something, turned her head, looked at Meng Fu's back, and stopped talking.
Meng Fu didn't turn his head back, he said concisely: "Say."
"Just..." Chu Yue scowled, "My sister said thank you..."
"You are polite," Meng Fu put the towel on his shoulder, remembering something, "Is she cute?"
Speaking of her sister, Chu Yue's rare face showed other expressions, "It's okay."
"I have time to see your sister." Meng Fu closed the bathroom door.
Chu Yue stood outside the door and 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 to talk with Meng Fu about variety shows. After saying hello to Chu Yue, she waited for Meng Fu in the dormitory.
She didn't urge her when Meng Fu was in the shower, she just bowed her head and frowned and rolled over the long contract on her hand. "A Star's Day" is just this week, and the topic on Weibo is already gaining momentum. Che Shao, these two men, are fine. You and Sheng Jun will definitely be trampled on."
"Best Idol" has just finished broadcasting. Meng Fu has been a hot topic recently. "A Star's Day" obviously does not want to miss this popularity.
"The final qualifiers happened to be the night after the live broadcast," Zhao Fan had a headache, "time is too tight."
As she was talking, a hurried bell rang, Zhao Fan glanced at it. It was Meng Fu's mobile phone on the table. The call was a string of unknown local numbers, "Telephone, local."
Zhao Fan raised his head and shouted to the bathroom.
She has always respected Meng Fu's privacy.
"Take it." Meng Fu's voice faintly came from the bathroom.
Zhao Fan picked up, it was a call from the Art Association.
Meng Fu came out of the bathroom and saw Zhao Fan sitting in her chair, looking thoughtful.
Meng Fu put on a loose long T-shirt, held the towel in his hand and placed it on his head, dragged off the stool of Chu Yue next door and sat down, putting his legs up slightly.
"You ate with your grandfather last night, did you tell your uncle to hang up with him? The Chief Art Association asked you to go there," Zhao Fan put down the file, surprised, "If this is the case, then you will broadcast the variety show this time. I wont be trampled too hard..."
The last time Yu Zhenling talked about the Art Association, Zhao Fan wanted Meng Fu to agree.
"No." Meng Fu moved his computer over while wiping his hair and turned it on.
"Why did the Art Association look for you?" Zhao Fan opened his mouth.
Meng Fu took a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap with one hand, and said lazily, "Who knows."
**
Not sure about the meaning of the Art Association, but Zhao Fan still urged Meng Fu to leave the Art Association.
In the eyes of ordinary people, the existence of the General Painting Association is like the Beijing University of Beijing. These are places where gods gather.
Some people have never seen it.
T City General Painting Association is also a tourist scene, but the painting association is the same as Beijing University, it must have a student certificate to enter, so it is extremely mysterious in the eyes of ordinary people.
Zhao Fan took Meng Fu to the Art Association. The people inside confirmed that it was the chairman who was looking for Meng Fu, and respectfully took Meng Fu and Zhao Fan to the chairmans office.
"President of the Painting Association?" Zhao Fan's expression changed.
She naturally knows who the president of the painting association is, which is no different to her, you are a beggar, and suddenly heard that the county grandfather wants to see you in person.
President changed into a long-distance runner in blue today.
He has white hair and a gentle face, but Zhao Fan looked at him, but there was an indescribable majesty that made people afraid to look directly into his eyes.
"Sit," the chairman raised his hand to them, and let people take out last night's painting, his eyes passed Zhao Fan and Meng Fu, his tone also appeared kind, "I am looking for you today, I want to ask you, Who painted this picture?"
As he said, the people around him had already raised the painting.
Zhao Fan raised her head and glanced at the painting that was raised. She was an outsider and couldn't see any way.
But the paintings mentioned by the president of the painting association are certainly not simple.
Zhao Fan couldn't help but glanced at Meng Fu.
Meng Fu kept looking down at the phone, and when he heard the question, he raised his head neither humble nor overbearing, and glanced at the painting, instead of saying, "I drew it."
"Puff" Zhao Fan, who had been nervous all the time, couldn't help turning his head to look at Meng Fu.
I cant bear to look straight at the bottom of my eyes.
Did she draw?
Zhao Fan couldn't help but remember that when he signed for Meng Fu on the first day, Meng Fu only filled out interviews, piano, chess, calligraphy and painting, not to mention studying.
At the moment when she said such big talk, she was still facing the president of the painting association. If it were to be spread out, Zhao Fan could imagine what kind of black material would sweep through the Internet at that time, and she winked at Meng Fu abruptly.
"You?" The president squinted slightly, he looked at Meng Fuqing's eyes and couldn't help but laugh.
"Hmm." Meng Fu nodded again, although she was beaten out by her master, she dared to act.
President smiled, and asked the people around him to arrange the rice paper and painting tools, and looked at Meng Fu lightly: "Here are paper and paintbrushes. You can draw another picture and let me see."
Zhao Fan heard that all the pores on his body were exploded, and suddenly turned his head to look at Meng Fu. The president is not so easy to fool!
**
.