Chapter 496 The fake Master of Clouds
In the state of Georgia.
In a certain village in a small southern town.
After the worship, Alice’s eyes were still a little red and swollen.
More than 20 years had passed, and it was not easy to find her hometown.
Fortunately, the old village head of this remote mountain village had a kind heart. He had been helping to clean the ancestral hall all these years, otherwise, this place would have turned into a wasteland long ago.
It was the old village head who helped her set the memorial tablet.
After the worship, Alice went to thank the old village head for a while. Then the two of them set foot on the way back to the State of New York.
When they passed by a small town, they suddenly heard a noise. After asking, they knew that it was Master of Clouds who had appeared in this small town and painted for everyone on the spot.
Master of Clouds was a well-known figure in the painting and calligraphy world.
His appearance naturally caused a commotion.
Alice clenched her fists and snorted, “What a great Master of Clouds. I’d like to see who he is!”
She had just finished worshiping her parents and was extremely depressed. She didn’t expect that she would run into a fake Master of Clouds. She had to catch him to vent her anger.
Alice knew that John was the Master of Clouds, so the so-called Master of Clouds was undoubtedly a fake.
John caught the hot-tempered girl and said with a smile, “Let’s go and have a look first!”
He wore a black peaked cap to cover the shiny bald head, and a pair of sunglasses and mask on his face, which perfectly concealed his identity.
This was a public figure’s trouble.
It would be troublesome if he was recognized as the King of Horizon.
John really missed the days when he swaggered along the busy streets in the past, but no one knew that he was the King of Horizon. He could act like a hoodlum as he wanted.
He couldn’t do it now.
How could a dignified the King of Horizon act like a hooligan?
No way!
The two of them followed the crowd to a painting stall. In the middle of the stall sat a slovenly man.
He was about forty or fifty years old.
His hair was in a mess.
His beard was covered with stubble, and his hair was connected to his temples.
If there was a broken bowl in front of him, it would not be strange to say that he was a beggar on the street
But in front of him was not a broken bowl, but a painting stall.
This was amazing.
His slovenly appearance was not sloppy, it was personality, bohemian, and a proper artistic atmosphere.
On the contrary, it was more convincing that he was the Master of Clouds.
Behind the slovenly man stood a row of men and women respectfully.
One of the men walked out and said, “Everyone, don’t be surprised. Our Master of Clouds has always been so
unique”
He explained the hairstyle of the slovenly man.
The onlookers cheered and praised.
Artists were artists, and their realms were high. They didn’t stick to their appearances for a long time.
They pursued a higher level of thought.
They should be admired!
Hearing the praise of the people around him, the man with short spiky hair showed a satisfied smile and continued, “This time, when our Master of Clouds came to the state of Georgia to pick up the painting, he was suddenly in high spirits and his creation was full of criticism, so he decided to give you a lot of benefits and painted two paintings on the spot.”
The slovenly man stopped and shouted, “Over!”
The madness disappeared in an instant.
The slovenly man sat back in the middle of the painting stall, looking indifferent. He didn’t even look up at the surrounding crowd.
However
The onlookers were all stunned.
It was not because the sloppy man was good at painting, but because they couldn’t understand his ‘masterpiece’ at all!
In other words, even if a child went there and got wet, the shape he drew was better than his
It was called the scrawly handwriting!
‘Is he really the Master of Clouds?”
Everyone couldn’t help but doubt.
At this time, the man with short spiky hair said again. He smiled unfathomably and said, “Everyone, I know you are all confused now, but it doesn’t matter. I will explain to you.”
“In fact, our Master of Clouds has been trying new styles of painting. This painting in front of us is a new style of painting that he has recently comprehended.”
“We all know that the work of the Master of Clouds pays more attention to the intent realm than the shape. This work is the extension of the master’s consciousness stream, directly removing the ‘shape’, leaving only
the ‘intent’ in it. It is a higher level of painting.”
The man explained.
The onlookers around looked at each other.
Of course, they all knew that the Master of Clouds had chosen the style of consciousness, but this consciousness was too much, right?
‘You can ask him yourself. Can he understand what he is drawing?”
‘Even if I carry a pig over, it can still draw like this.”
‘Don’t you see us as idiots? The onlookers thought to themselves.
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