Chapter 185: Learning Very Fast

Chapter 185: A Quick Study

"Why do you want to learn sand art?"

Wen Wan had anticipated this possibility before he arrived; she felt it was the most likely reason. Why else would he seek her out? Asking this was not just a matter of procedure, but a genuine curiosity.

Meng Fan’s fame was significant. Beyond the novelty of his endeavors, the underlying reason people respected and discussed him was his undeniable professional competence. Without that, his eccentricities would be seen as mere distractions rather than talent. While students might still find him entertaining, from a professor’s perspective, such things rarely garnered genuine favor.

Many had seen Meng Fan’s comics and illustrations, Wen Wan included, and it was clear that his draftsmanship was of the highest industry standard.

That was precisely why Wen Wan was intrigued.

While it was common for comic artists to transition into or incorporate sand art—a medium not unlike sketching or oil painting in its reliance on foundational techniques—the two disciplines shared a profound creative kinship.

Meng Fan’s answer was disarmingly honest: "I find sand art performances cool, and I’m very interested in them."

"Your answer is quite cool as well."

Perhaps it was a preconceived notion, or perhaps the pull of his charisma, but Wen Wan’s impression of Meng Fan was overwhelmingly positive. Even his cliché response seemed to take on a certain charm. She then asked, "How would you like me to teach you? Do you want to attend my regular classes, or would you prefer to come to my studio?"

Meng Fan’s face lit up: "You’re willing to teach me?"

Wen Wan smiled: "Why wouldn't I be?"

Meng Fan hesitated, looking slightly embarrassed: "I was hoping for one-on-one instruction. You see, I believe my foundation in drawing is quite strong, and I’m a fast learner... the thing is, I’m prone to asking a lot of questions. If I were in a standard class, I’m afraid I’d hold the other students back."

Meng Fan needed a mentor to help him bridge the gap quickly. Once he understood the fundamentals, he could find his own path to mastery. Without that initial guidance, even the most skilled artist would struggle to translate their craft into sand; it was not a skill that simply manifested through intuition.

"So, you’re saying you’re a quick study?"

Wen Wan didn't find his confidence off-putting. Experience had shown that sand art relied heavily on foundational drawing skills; those with a solid background in other artistic disciplines almost always progressed faster. The style of the transition, of course, varied by the artist's background.

Furthermore, a strong command of calligraphy was a massive boon to sand art.

Even for someone starting from scratch, mastering the basics of sand manipulation required immense effort. Of course, high proficiency in one medium did not guarantee success in another—much like how an oil painter might not naturally excel at traditional ink wash painting. Tools and techniques differed, and nothing was ever guaranteed.

Yet, in Wen Wan’s estimation, Meng Fan’s current skill set gave him a distinct advantage.

"I’ll have to see just how quick you are."

Wen Wan smiled. "Tell you what: I was planning to head to the studio today anyway. Come with me. I’ll have one of my team members walk you through the basics and the equipment first. Once I finish my work, I’ll give you a formal lesson. If you truly are as fast as you claim, I’d be more than happy to provide one-on-one sessions."

Otherwise, the matter would be settled. Either she wouldn't teach him at all, or he would be treated like any other student.

Meng Fan nodded repeatedly: "That would be a great help, thank you."

"My studio is right next to the campus. Let’s walk."

With that, they left the office and headed toward the main gate.

"It’s the Tower Singer!"

"Awesome!"

"Hey, Fatty Meng!"

Along the way, many people greeted Meng Fan, and those who didn't still lingered with curious glances.

If there was one group that had watched the live stream of Bai Zhi’s concert the night before, it was the students and faculty of the Art Academy. Most had watched it live, and those who hadn't caught up on the recordings—especially the two songs Meng Fan performed.

Furthermore, clips of his performance were circulating with high engagement on social media and video platforms.

It was a pity that these views couldn't be converted into live audience numbers; otherwise, Meng Fan felt he wouldn't even need to learn sand art for the Double Eleven event—he would have completed his task long ago.

"If I didn't know better, I’d think you were a celebrity," Wen Wan remarked with a smile as they exited the gate. She pointed in a direction and continued walking. Before long, they arrived at a residential complex adjacent to the school. By a stroke of luck, Wen Wan’s studio was in the same complex where Meng Fan lived. They weren't in the same building, but they were only one apart; from the right angle, one could even see the studio from Meng Fan’s home.

The studio, named "Wen Wan Sand Art," occupied the second and third floors of a building, offering a generous amount of space. The third floor was used for meetings, consultations, and some teaching, while the entire second floor was dedicated to practice and creation.

"Xiao Ding."

Wen Wan led Meng Fan into a classroom on the second floor and called out to a young man who was busy scattering sand. "I don't think I need to introduce him, do I? Take him through the tools and explain the basics of sand art. I’ll be back in a bit."

She turned to Meng Fan: "Feel free to ask him anything you want."

With that, she headed up to the third floor.

"Greetings, Tower Man!"

Xiao Ding was also a student at the Art Academy, so he naturally recognized Meng Fan.

More than half of the staff at Wen Wan’s studio were current students, and a good portion of the rest were alumni. Only a handful were from outside the academy. Like Qin Jiu, Wen Wan was always eager to help students. Naturally, the Art Academy was the best pool of talent, and it made sense to recruit from within.

After a few curious questions, Xiao Ding began to familiarize Meng Fan with the equipment, the most important of which was, of course, the sand itself.

There were many varieties and colors of sand, each suited to different creative needs.

Xiao Ding had been exposed to sand art since his freshman year and had joined the studio in his sophomore year. He was one of Wen Wan’s true protégés, now capable of handling commercial performances on his own, with a solid grasp of fundamentals and a growing personal style.

He was, naturally, quite professional.

As he introduced the tools, Xiao Ding realized Meng Fan was a complete novice in sand art and began his explanation from the very beginning.

After ten minutes of theory, Xiao Ding began to demonstrate.

"The basic techniques of sand art start with scattering, like this... then there’s outlining... and dotting..."

Ten minutes later, Xiao Ding let Meng Fan try it himself.

Once the basics were explained, one had to feel the medium. Only by picking up the sand and drawing could one truly digest the theory; otherwise, it remained abstract and impractical.

About two hours later, Wen Wan descended from the third floor and entered the classroom. "That took a bit longer than expected. It’s lunchtime, so let’s eat before we continue. I assume the basics are covered?"

Xiao Ding looked at her with a slightly bewildered expression: "Teacher, the thing is... he’s already managed to complete a piece on his own..."