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Chapter 48 , Rejection

Chapter 48, Rejection

Author: March Mazhu

Chapter 48, Rejection

One of the disadvantages of painting at night is that the brightness is not enough and the control over colors is not that strong.

He had to turn on the lights and light candles at the same time. It was so expensive and I felt so distressed.

Fortunately, I got 30,000 yuan for these two paintings. Otherwise, I would never have stayed up late with the lights on, and the electricity bill would have been 65 cents per kilowatt hour.

Speaking of which, this is all a myth. The electricity bill was this price these days, but it was 5 cents cheaper in later generations. Who the hell is there to reason with?

In his previous life, he had been immersed in painting for almost 40 years, and his basic skills were beyond words.

In addition, after creating "Eternity", there was a fundamental change in my state of mind. My control over color and space was unprecedentedly keen. A small "Nine-Colored Deer" was easily picked up with almost no modifications. .

Stayed up all night.

I didn't stop painting until my stomach couldn't hold it anymore, and I was ready to make some noodles and go to bed.

"Luann, open the door! Open the door, Luann!"

While he was eating noodles, Li Dong was screaming and screaming outside again.

Opening the door, Lu An asked: "You got up a little late today, can you still meet that girl?"

At this time, Widow Zhang appeared at the window on the second floor with a rice bowl. She knelt on the window edge and said, "This is a good idea. I will be your referee."

Li Dong's big open mouth froze, and he turned around and walked away dejectedly. This was Widow Zhang, a being who was like a god, and he was also afraid of her.

Lu An glanced at the second floor, wanting to reach out and tear this beautiful face to pieces. Damn it, you can be my mother, why are you still harboring illusions?

The sky of the twelfth lunar month is like a knife sky, and the wind of the twelfth lunar month is like a whip.

The wind picked up in the evening, and there was drizzle in the wind. When Lu An opened his eyes and woke up, he smelled a scent, the smell of bacon.

Don't ask why you know so clearly. For foodie Lu, this is all just a matter of speculation.

At first, I thought it was the aroma of vegetables coming from the Tongzilou next door. But when I listened carefully, I realized it was wrong. It was clearly coming from my own kitchen, and there was also the sound of a spatula.

Lu An got out of bed and went straight to the kitchen. He saw Meng Qingchi at a glance and said happily: "Sister Qingchi, why are you here?"

Meng Qingchi, who was cooking, turned sideways and said with a smile: "I'll come over and take a look when I have free time today. I just saw you sleeping, so I didn't disturb you."

Then, without waiting for his reply, he asked with concern: "Is your head feeling better lately?"

I don't know why, but every time he saw the girl in front of him in his past life, his mood was always surprisingly peaceful. No matter how distracted or excited he was, whenever he saw her, it was as if he had taken a sedative.

Lu An walked into the kitchen, closed the door, and blocked out the wind. "I've been feeling much better recently, thank you."

Meng Qingchi talked to Zhou Jingni on the phone before coming, and knew that his academic performance had improved a lot, so he believed this:

Ask: "Are those painting tools in the house yours?"

"Well, my uncle gave it to me." Lu An said.

Recalling that his deceased mother used to like to draw and write, Meng Qingchi thought his hands were itchy, so he didn't ask any more questions and just asked:

"It's OK to relax and unwind at ordinary times, but don't indulge in it. Everything is focused on the college entrance examination."

"Hey, I know."

The shiny bacon in the pot looked very appetizing. Lu An almost fainted with greed and unconsciously stretched his head over it.

Seeing this, Meng Qingchi smiled and gave him a pair of chopsticks, "Try it, I haven't added salt yet. I wonder if this bacon is salty?"

When there was something to eat, Lu An was naturally not polite. He immediately put a chopstick in his mouth and chewed a few mouthfuls: "Well, it's delicious. I can't fault Sister Qingchi's cooking, it's just good."

As he said that, he picked up a piece and put it to her mouth, "Don't laugh like that. If you don't believe me, try it. I'm not exaggerating at all."

Meng Qingchi quietly looked at the meat that was brought to his mouth, and looked at the expectant expression on his face. Meng Qingchi, who seemed to be impressed, was silent for a full three seconds, and finally opened his mouth and ate it.

Then he said: "This bacon was given to me by my mother. She asked me to ask you: My grandpa will be celebrating his 70th birthday in a few days. Do you still want to avoid clear water?"

They had just recklessly shared a pair of chopsticks to eat the food, and the next second they mentioned Meng Qingshui. Lu An was not a fool, so he naturally understood what she meant.

Of course, the old man of the Meng family would not be absent from his 70th birthday. He immediately said, "It will be next Saturday. I have always remembered it. I will arrive on time."

Meng Qingchi smiled quietly: "Okay, grandpa will be very happy to see you go."

I cooked two vegetables for dinner, one bacon and one diced radish.

Although there were not many dishes, the portions were substantial, and the two of them had a great time eating as they went back and forth.

While eating and chatting, Meng Qingchi mentioned the dog thing: "I had a phone conversation with your class teacher, and we talked about you wanting to get a dog. What kind of dog do you want?"

Hey, skin picking is not reliable this week.

Asked her if she wanted a dog, it would be better for her to just push it to someone else. Then how could she collect wool in the future?

Lu An said: "I mainly prevent rats from eating the oil paintings. I don't care about the variety."

After speaking, he added: "But the appearance cannot be too ugly, at least it must be pleasing to the eye."

Meng Qingchi asked: "Do you choose the appearance of a dog?"

Lu An said: "It's really not up to me to choose. The main reason is that I am used to Sister Qingchi's beauty and can no longer accept anything related to the word ugly."

After hearing this, Meng Qingchi raised his eyes, stopped talking, and finished his meal quietly.

Li Dong came to visit.

As soon as he entered the door, he asked Lu An furtively: "Lu An, can you make dog meat?"

Lu An, who was painting, turned around and said, "Do you have dog meat?"

Li Dongmeng nodded: "Yes, there are many."

Lu An asked curiously: "Where did it come from? Does your family know?"

Li Dong's eyes were wandering and he said "hey" but didn't reply.

Thinking of the harsh words the other party had spared last night, Lu An glanced in the direction of the kitchen and lowered his voice:

"Did you kill Matchmaker Wu's dog?"

Li Dong winked and made gestures: "I just hit it, but I didn't expect it to become warped without being hit."

You are fooling the devil, whoever believes this is stupid.

Lu An sighed: "You should take it outside and deal with it. Our families are too close together, there are many people and the smell of dog meat is special. If there is something wrong, people will find out the clues."

Li Dong muttered and left.

In the evening, Lu Ann continued with the second painting, painting roses.

Because the wind and rain outside were getting heavier and heavier, Meng Qingchi, who couldn't go back, kept sitting on a chair next to him and watching him paint.

Her eyes would stop on the oil painting from time to time, and stop on him from time to time. She didn't know what she was thinking.

After 11 o'clock, Lu An stopped painting and asked her in a small voice: "How was the painting?"

Meng Qingchi once saw his mother's paintings and commented: "It's very similar. It feels more interesting than my aunt's paintings."

As long as there is God, Lu An knows that if a layman can say such things, it is enough to prove his success.

Lu An rubbed his sore wrist and suddenly said: "My hands are a little tired, so I won't draw any more. Sister Qingchi, please teach me how to dance."

Meng Qingchi was stunned for a moment, stared straight into his eyes for a while, and said tactfully: "Sister, I'm feeling a little unwell today, let's talk about it later."

After that, she stood up and said: "It's getting late, you should go to bed early."
Chapter completed!
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