Era: Beginning from the Modu Translation Studio

Chapter 124 Where did Mr. Qi hide the painting?
In 1979, "Qi Baishi's Works Collection" was included in the 1980 stamp issuance plan.

Soon, the Stamp Issuing Bureau entrusted this plan to Shao Bolin, a master stamp designer.

Therefore, after receiving the commission, Shao Bolin immediately began to collect materials.

Although Qi Lao had a lot of creations in his life, the framework of Shao Bolin's works has set two principles.

One is Qi Baishi's favorite flowers and birds, and the other is a narrow vertical screen, because the banner works have the most Chinese characteristics.

However, it is even more difficult to find 16 ideal paintings among the tens of thousands of works that have been scattered.

Jiang Shan picked up a small teapot and poured a cup for the two masters: "Do you know whose residence Yenching Academy used to be?"

Huang Yongyu, who was smoking a pipe, immediately laughed: "How can I not know this? When Mr. Qi was alive, I was a frequent visitor to his house."

Jiang Shan knew Huang Yongyu's temper, so he half-jokingly said: "Then tell me, where did Mr. Qi hide the painting?"

Hearing this, Huang Yongyu and Shao Bolin looked at each other.

Confused: "He still has paintings? Didn't he even donate the house!"

"That's right," Jiang Shan continued to mutter, "It is true that the house was donated, but there are still paintings in the house."

What they said about Mr. Qi's house was the later Yenching Academy of Painting.

It took a while for Shao Bolin to realize: "Comrade Xiaojiang, what you mean, Mr. Qi still has some paintings hidden in the Yanjing Academy of Fine Arts?"

"It's not hidden there," Jiang Shan calculated the time: "But it should be dug out soon."

"dig it out?"

"Well," Jiang Shan nodded: "It's full of exquisite products that everyone is reluctant to take out..."

The night in Guangzhou-Zhou Academy was extremely quiet.

With Huang Yongyu's enthusiasm of "can't live in vain", Jiang Shan and Yu Sigui saved a lot of money.

There are large and small exhibition halls in the painting academy, which is enough for Jiangshan to visit and take pictures for an afternoon.

For a while, he only regretted that he didn't bring his second brother out, and it's good to gain knowledge together.

Huang Yongyu's studio is located in the westernmost corner of the painting academy. During the daytime, one can see a pond through the window.

But for a while, it was pitch black.

In the studio, the gray concrete floor is smooth enough to reflect the lights from the roof.

There are scrolls hanging on the walls, some of which have been completed and some of which are only half painted.

From time to time, Huang Yongyu would go over and add a few strokes.

At this moment, Jiang Shan was sitting by the painting table, and under Yu Sigui's soft and tough pampering, he was painting an owl for the girl.

"The big one or the small one," Jiang Shan wrote and asked, "Otherwise, it's just a drawing."

"I can draw eggs myself," Yu Sigui, who was with Jiang Shan, became more cheerful: "Let's just draw two small ones!"

"Success, it's easy." Jiang Shan glanced at the birdcage and began to draw the bird.

At this time, on the bamboo chair next to the birdcage, Huang Yongyu was holding a stack of newspaper clippings, watching intently.

After a long while, he put down the newspaper clippings without further ado.

After that, he said to Shao Bolin who was looking at the monkey with a magnifying glass: "How long do you want to watch the monkey?"

Shao Bolin himself was also laughing: "I have to understand the texture of your monkey, so I can make boards in the future!"

"I don't know if it can be published yet," Huang Yongyu didn't worry about it. He only cared about it for a while:
"The novel you brought is serialized, what's next?"

Shao Bolin pointed to the newspaper clippings: "It's all here, that's all. My friends in Pujiang collected it for me."

"Newspapers in Pujiang?" Huang Yongyu turned to Jiang Shan and asked, "Jiang Shan, have you heard of lurking in Pujiang?"

Jiang Shan, who was drawing a bird, didn't even raise his head: "Latent? A novel?"

Shao Bolin nodded: "Yes, the novels in your city's "Pujiang Daily" are serialized."

"I know this, I wrote it."

In Jiang Shan's writing, one bird has its left eye open, and the other has its left eye closed. Yu Sigui, who is watching from the side, giggles.

"What did he just say?" Huang Yongyu thought he heard it wrong, and asked Shao Bolin.

Shao Bolin was stunned for a moment, pointed at Jiang Shan and said to Huang Yongyu: "He said he wrote this novel."

"Huh?" Huang Yongyu hurriedly looked down.

In the column of the author of "Latent" in the newspaper, there are two words clearly printed: Jiangshan.

The original name was the original surname, for fear that others would not know who it was.

He groaned and stood up.

He walked quickly to Jiang Shan, pointed to the newspaper clipping and asked, "This Jiang Shan is you?"

At this moment, Jiangshan's two birds have almost been completed.

"The Lurker on "Pujiang Daily" has long since ceased publication," Jiang Shan asked the two with a smile, "How is it? I write good novels, right?"

Huang Yongyu was startled: "You really wrote it?"

"The former editor-in-chief of "Pujiang Daily" was my eldest brother," Jiang Shan analyzed the reason:
"Now he has transferred to "Oriental Metropolis Daily", and I have also transferred, and the serialization is almost over now."

Huang Yongyu grasped the key point: "This latent serialization is almost over?"

Shao Bolin also asked: "What happened to Yu Zecheng after that?"

Jiang Shan wondered: "This can't be explained in a few sentences."

"Then write,"

As soon as the words fell, Huang Yongyu put away the paintbrush in Jiang Shan's hand, and Shao Bolin took the "owl" off the table with both hands.

Jiang Shan was dumbfounded: "Write it right away?"

Huang Yongyu stared: "Hurry up."

Shao Bolin also wanted to read it: "If it doesn't bother you, just write it out. My old friends also like to read this novel."

Upon hearing this, Jiang Shan became more motivated: "Okay, the teachers like it, I will write no matter how hard or tiring it is."

As the night deepened, the owls in the cage became more lively.

The versatile Huang Yongyu went to the kitchen and fed some meat strips to feed the birds.

At this moment, Shao Bolin, who was standing behind Jiang Shan, took off his reading glasses with a look of emotion.

"Old Huang, editor Xiaojiang, reminds me of when you were an editor."

"They are not as fun as we were then." Huang Yongyu leaned on the sofa, closed his eyes and smiled.

Shao Bolin nodded: "Yeah, it was really good at that time!"

As soon as Huang Yongyu mentioned that year, Jiang Shan was immediately excited.

One of the purposes of his trip was: "Mr. Huang, where did you work as an editor?"

"Want to hear?"

"Tell us about it."

"Okay," Huang Yongyu looked at Jiangshan's credit for catching up on novels overnight: "Before liberation, I got a job as an art editor at "Da Gong Bao" in Xiangjiang."

Jiang Shan quietly put down the pen in his hand.

Huang Yongyu slowly recalled: "Besides me, there were two other people in the editorial department, Intertelecom translator Cha Liangyong, and text editor Chen Wentong."

These two are the later Jin Yong and Liang Yusheng.

"The outside world says Xiaocha has two pens," Huang Yongyu took a sip of his pipe.

Jiang Shan answered, "One writes martial arts novels, and the other writes film reviews."

"As expected of working in a newspaper," when Huang Yongyu was an editor, the news obtained by the newspaper was worth half of the secrecy bureau:

"Actually, at the beginning, Chen Wentong helped him write the novels. As for the film reviews, I wrote them all."

Shao Bolin supported his old friend and said:

"Xiao Jiang, you may not know that Mr. Huang was not only the editor of "Da Gong Bao" and "New Evening News" when he was in Xiangjiang, but also worked as a screenwriter for Great Wall Film."

Of course Jiang Shan knew that until Jin Yong was 70 years old, Huang Yongyu would still call out when he saw him: Xiaocha.

But Yu Sigui on the side didn't know, so he said from the bottom of his heart: "That's amazing!"

"At that time we ran a newspaper just for fun," that was the time Huang Yongyu missed the most:
"It doesn't matter if the three of us forget to bring money when we go to the restaurant for dinner. When the meal is almost finished, I will either draw a picture or write a movie review, and then Xiaocha will call someone to collect the manuscript and pay the bill..."

The more Jiangshan listens, the more he feels. Perhaps Xiangjiang's highlight period began at that time.

Yu Sigui: "What happened next?"

"I went back to China later," Huang Yongyu didn't want to hide at all: "I have a very good cousin named Shen Congwen, he wrote a letter asking me to go back to China to help him."

Speaking of this, Jiang Shan noticed that Shao Bolin's eyes were getting darker and darker.

"It's also very good when I come back," Huang Yongyu continued: "He is engaged in his literary creation, and I continue to paint my paintings."

However, ten years came quickly.

Huang Yongyu took a deep drag on his cigarette.

He doesn't shy away from it at all. Jiang Shan is just a little friend he just met: "A student who was begging for nothing before and insisted on worshiping my uncle as a teacher, named Fan Seng..."

Shao Bolin was at the side: "Ahem..."

"Fuck you," Huang Yongyu said, "I'm talking about mine. This Fan Seng was supported by my uncle, but he wrote more than ten big-character posters for him, listing hundreds of crimes..."

Now that we have reached this point, Shao Bolin also shook his head and said, "In those days, ten items were enough to kill a person."

What's more, after the investigation, it was found that none of them could be established.

Not only was he not guilty, but Shen Congwen was found out for more than ten years in a row, and he bought countless cultural relics with his own money and donated them to the National Museum of History.

There are so many visits that the staff of the museum don't even bother to write the receipt, and the elderly don't care at all.

Fortunately, people still remember to speak for the old man, which saved the old man from prison.

He was only arranged to clean the toilets in the history museum where he had donated cultural relics.

"Fan Seng?" Jiang Shan murmured and repeated: "Is that the great painter Fan Seng?"

"That's right," Huang Yongyu said with a contemptuous smile, "Master Kuchan's proud disciple was also given the title by Kuchan: Son of Zhongshan Wolf."

"It seems that this one likes to offend the teacher," Jiang Shanqi said.

Huang Yongyu was deeply touched: "But people are also very good at turning to the top of the mountain. If he draws a stamp, he must have passed the approval early."

The monkey ticket, which is famous all over the world in later generations, can't even get a birth certificate today.

It was delayed until November this year before the approval for listing was obtained.

If it is later, once the Gengshen year is over, it will be released.

Who dares to imagine the mood of these two creators at that time!

"The two teachers are worried about this monkey?" Jiang Shan asked tentatively.

Until now, Shao Bolin still took out the magnifying glass to look at the painting in his hand from time to time.

This picture of a black monkey on a red background, when viewed under a magnifying glass, will present a furry 3D monkey.

Jiang Shan continued: "I have a way."

(End of this chapter)