Chapter 16 (1/2)

When compared with Zhou Yunsheng, Ning Wangshu’s whole body was stiff, ready to use his short legs to escape. But the other was careful to avoid him, just picked up the palette and brush from his side, then turned to paint, no other action. Ning Wangshu was quietly relieved, he stepped to the side of Zhou Yun Sheng, turned up his small head, and looked at the canvas with shiny eyes.

Zhou Yun Sheng had completely lost sight of the little thing at his feet. He’d completely inherited Wei Xiyan’s fanatical love of painting, his brush was constantly moving.

Wei Xi Yan was good at modern direct painting, which is drawing the outline directly on the canvas and then slowly coloring it. But Zhou Yunsheng was good at the more ancient transparent painting, which was painting in layers of pigments that are not white and diluted with a palette of oil. The next layer of paint must be painted after the previous layer dried. Your mind had to complete the whole picture before you even start.

Because each layer of color was thinner, the lower layer of color can be faintly revealed, with the upper layer of color blending into subtle colors. So this painting method requires more sophisticated skills and a more accurate grasp of color harmony and judgments.

Wei Yi Xiyan’s painting used a large area of ​​warm colors, and was already dry. Zhou Yun Sheng added blue, purple and green, so the warm colors gradually became cool tones, and used a resin varnish to glaze, so that there were layers of overlapping gray.

After half an hour, the original spring flowers blooming in the garden had become a shower of stars in the forest. The twinkling stars gave out a weak light, it seemed that as long as you reached out a hand you would be able to pick it up with your fingers. It did not look like a picture, but like the entrance to another world, so beautiful, so real yet so illusory.

Zhou Yun Sheng backed up a few steps, looked at his practice when a slight sound of wonder entered his ears. He pulled his mind away from the painting and looked down at the little guy by his feet.

Day to night, sunshine to starlight, garden to forest, even if Wangshu was still too small to know what was aesthetic he was overwhelmed by his small uncle’s superb painting techniques.

He found that he had disturbed his Xiao Shu, Ning Wangshu quickly covered his mouth with little chubby hands, big eyes full of panic.

Zhou Yunsheng only looked at him then turned back, he continued to look at the painting and picked up the brush to make minor adjustments.

Ning Wangshu was relieved, he saw his uncle didn’t seem to want him to leave, so his courageousness became larger, his small hands explored the tools and brushes. Reach out and retract, reach out and pull in, after struggling for a long time he finally took a brush in his hand.

There was a piece of white cloth on the ground with the drum for cleaning the brushes. Ning Wangshu quickly dipped the brush in a little poppy oil, squatting on the ground he began to smear paint on the white cloth. He tried to draw a few stars, but found that the painting did not shine like his uncle’s so he tried to paint the sun … …

He was playing happily and didn’t find that Zhou Yun Sheng had done the final modification and was bent over staring at him.

“No, you can’t play with this.” The voice of the young man was like a trickle of water, but the strength that took the brush was not weak.

Ning Wangshu was alarmed, his rosy little face instantly became pale, like a small quail he shrunk into the corner.

Zhou Yunsheng didn’t comfort him, he put the paintbrush and oil drum on the windowsill, to where the little guy couldn’t reach, and walked out of the studio.

Ning Wangshu covered his little face and started to cry, still next to the wet large white cloth, he looked really pitiable. But not long after, the boy came back in holding a box of watercolor pens and a stack of white paper. He bent over to the little guy and said, “You use this to paint. Paint and poppy oil contains toxins, small baby can’t touch, will get sick.”

Seeing the little guy was still in tears, refusing to look up at him, Zhou Yunsheng didn’t comfort him. He placed the water pens and white paper on the ground, and turned to continue painting. He himself had slight emotional problems, doing and saying so much was a miracle.

His uncle did not despise him. Ning Wangshu’s sad mood was soothed. He rubbed his eyes hard, and quietly looked up. He was ready to reach out to get the watercolor pen when the young man suddenly turned toward him. He jumped and shrunk into himself, like a small turtle.

Zhou Yunsheng was a little amused, but because of the monitors he had to be strong and patient. He took a few deep breaths, kept a serious expression and removed a white shirt hanging on the easel, and helped the little guy get dressed. He whispered, “Obediently put it on, so your clothes don’t dirty.”

Ning Wangshu stopped struggling, and let Xiao Shu help him put on the clothes. The shirt was very large, the sleeves barely exposed a pair of young tender little hands, the hem also dragged along.

Zhou Yun Sheng helped him organize the skirt, patted his stiff head, and then turned to continue painting.

Ning Wangshu also touched his forehead, feeling the nearly dissipated warmth, his heart felt a little sweet. He didn’t laugh, but his eyes were bright, he picked up the brush, and began to doodle like his Xiao Shu’s paintings.

A dropped needle could be heard in the quiet studio. Uncle and nephew were side by side painting, their figures seemed so harmonious, enough to warm the heart.