In fact, fine brushwork is different from the "freehand" style of ink painting, and it also belongs to the "realistic" style of painting. However, it is obvious that because there is no systematic study of perspective effects, it cannot be compared with sketching in terms of composition proportions, visual effects, or even detail processing.

Especially in the last portrait of Song Bo, Su Qingluan even captured the moist feeling of light and shadow reflected in the character's eyes.

In fact, when they got here, Su Qingluan took a sneak peek and saw that these people were already convinced. However, probably because they were all painters of some reputation and older than Su Qingluan, they looked at each other, and although they all lowered their heads, no one could utter an apology.

Su Qingluan didn't take this matter too seriously. After all, although she was nominally teaching these people sketching and could barely be called a "teacher", she didn't think she could really be called a "teacher" in their minds.

Putting aside the question of whether these men generally look down on women and their male chauvinism towards a teenage girl, the identity of the other party alone meant that this was not an ordinary teaching session.

To put it bluntly, from a practical point of view, both she and these painters are working under Mu Xingzhi. The difference is that she can be considered a "cooperator", while the others are most likely "contract workers" - after all, judging from their words and deeds, these people should not know that Mu Xingzhi has a noble identity.

And he was only entrusted by Mu Xingzhi to teach these people skills in exchange for Mu Xingzhi's protection of his family in the future.

So as long as Mu Xingzhi keeps his word, Su Qingluan doesn't really care what her "students" think of her.

After all, whether she was dissatisfied or admired, it had nothing to do with Su Qingluan - after all, she was not really opening a sketching class to teach students, so could she expect her students to be all over the world?

Thinking of this, Su Qingluan wanted to find a way out for the older brothers or even uncles on the opposite side.

"My humble daughter, please show me your worth," she knelt and bowed. "Actually, every painting technique has its own strengths and weaknesses. Sketching, while precise, lacks the artistic conception of ink painting, and it lacks the delicate elegance of meticulous brushwork. As the saying goes, spring orchids and autumn chrysanthemums each have their own strengths. If I gave up sketching and switched to ink painting and meticulous brushwork, I'd probably be laughed at."

Su Qingluan spoke politely, but inwardly she was muttering, "Alright, alright, the steps have been paved for you. Uncles and brothers, don't quarrel over a few taels of face. We're all workers. You should learn your skills quickly, and I'll have completed my mission. Wouldn't it be better for everyone to go home and find their mothers?" Why should workers make things difficult for workers?

After waiting for a long time, there was no movement from the other party. Su Qingluan's gesture of blessing required a slight bow, so she could not see the other person's expression or reaction.

Just when she was getting impatient and was about to stand up by herself, she suddenly felt a hand under her arm, lifting her up.

Su Qingluan was stunned and looked up. It was one of the people who had shouted the loudest just now, one of the two painters who was best at fine brushwork.

What made Su Qingluan sweat was that this big brother had tears in his eyes and was looking at her with red eyes!

What the hell is going on here?! Su Qingluan looked at the others in bewilderment.

As a result, she felt even more horrified - it made people's faces either full of emotion or with tears in their eyes. In short, Su Qingluan was very suspicious that she had suddenly traveled through time again and came to a sad drama, a version in which she was about to be heroically executed!

Wait, what's wrong with these people?

“What are you doing…”

"Madam Su!!" The uncle who was standing nearby excitedly grabbed Su Qingluan's arm. His voice was so deafening that Su Qingluan felt a buzzing in her head and a sharp pain in her left arm. She wondered if it was going to be broken.

Su Qingluan was in so much pain that she almost felt her facial expression shift. The uncle over there was still expressing his feelings: "Madam Su is very understanding and broad-minded. We are really...nowhere near as good as her!"

"No, I didn't..." The most important thing is that her hand is about to break!

"Madam Su treated us with all her sincerity, teaching us painting techniques without reservation, yet we are arrogant and don't recognize that a master is right before our eyes!"

"No... that..." Hand! Hand! Su Qingluan struggled to pull her arm back, trying to free herself from the grip.

However, on the one hand, Su Qingluan was concerned about her reputation and was embarrassed to pull her arm back with all her strength. On the other hand, her strength was obviously not enough compared to that of a strong man. So when Su Qingluan pulled, her arm just shook and she didn't break free!

The man with the detailed painting over there was still expressing his guilt and admiration for Su Qingluan, while Su Qingluan was simply in tears.

What made her even more speechless was that each of the seven people opposite her had an expression that said, "How could we be so narrow-minded that we don't know the true face of a master and don't know what's good for us?" They expressed their feelings in loud voices one after another, and they were very sincere. However, Su Qingluan felt that if she continued like this, she would probably be close to having her limbs amputated.

At this time, Mu Xingzhi, who had been watching the fun on the side, finally coughed lightly and placed the teacup on the mahogany table with a light "click" sound.

The sound was not loud, but because the porcelain was crisp enough, everyone present could hear it, so several people looked in the man's direction at the same time.

Mu Xingzhi looked at the uncle painter with a half-smile: "Tian Ayong, although Qingluan is now dressed in men's clothes, she is still a woman after all. She must not lose her sense of proportion."

Upon hearing this, Su Qingluan wanted to give Mu Xingzhi a hundred thumbs up: That’s great, her arm was finally saved!

Tian Ayong, the uncle who had unconsciously held Su Qingluan's arm, was startled when he heard this. He quickly let go, clasped his hands together, and bowed his head in greeting: "I am sorry for my rudeness! Please, Madam Su—no, please, Mr. Su, punish me!"

"Please punish me, Mr. Su!" The seven people said it again in loud voices one after another, making Su Qingluan even more pressured.

etc……

"Why...why are you calling me sir all of a sudden?" Su Qingluan's mouth twitched.

What she originally meant was that the other party was just learning a skill, and she was just teaching a class similar to the special classes in her previous life, so there was no need to be so serious.

However, the thinking patterns of the brothers on the opposite side were obviously not in the same dimension as hers.

"Sir, you are right. How can you be so careless and call me 'sir' casually when there is not even any ceremony of becoming a disciple?" Tian Ayong looked at his companions with a serious expression, and the other six people nodded in response.

"..." What the hell is this unbridled, god-like display?! Su Qingluan's inner comments were already flooding the screen.