Chapter 34 (1/2)

This worried Xu Haodong. He was worried about Fang Zheng. Fang Zheng was almost smelly. His clothes were so dirty that he couldn't see their original appearance. He wanted to pull him up and change his clothes. He was afraid that Fang Zheng would lose his temper. He finally fell asleep.

Do not know what to do, or squat in the side of the bed.

”Fang Zheng, daughter-in-law, take off your clothes and I'll wash them for you.”

Fang Zheng covers his head with a pillow.

”Take it off. It's hard for you to sleep in clothes.”

Fang Zheng sat up unsatisfied and took off his coat, jeans, socks and quilt.

Xu Haodong quickly took off his socks, stuffed his feet into the quilt, and the air conditioner turned up the temperature before he brought them out.

Why is this sock the same.

Absolutely busy in the wrong mix up, where are the remaining socks?

Sharp eyed in Fang Zheng's studio door to see one. It's so strange. How to throw socks in painting? It is said that artists have a strange temper, but their family is even more strange.

The door had been damaged by him for a long time. He had to mend it, but the lock couldn't be locked. Xu Haodong just went in to see what dirty clothes he had.

All the painters have such a pair of big aprons full of paint, which can't be washed out. A blanket beside him was thrown on the ground. Fang Zheng was not used to it very well sometimes. When he was tired, he lay down on the ground, grabbed it and covered it. He didn't want to walk a few steps back to his bedroom.

Wash it before you cover it.

I went to the middle of the studio and looked up to see Fang Zheng's new painting and Xu Haodong's aesthetic appreciation. The more realistic the painting, the better. Fang Zheng's painting is so lifelike, especially real, especially specific, and the characters are very vivid. It's like people in the painting can find the feeling of deja vu.

This painting, how to say, Xu Haodong looked at it and wanted to cry.

It's a very sad feeling.

A man with silver hair, white temples, wrapped in a turban, wrinkled eyes, a small blood hole in his hand, put his hand on his forehead, looked at the sunset thoughtfully, and his face was pale.

It's tea lady.

The hardships of life make the little old lady older than her peers.

At dusk in the west mountain, not only the scenery, but also people can see that the old lady's life is not long.

People can't help thinking of their mother, thinking about what their mother is like, is old, white hair, loess buried neck.