Chapter 186: Sand Painting Techniques

Chapter 186: Sand Painting Techniques

"You managed to finish a painting all on your own?"

Wen Wan walked into the studio, her expression etched with skepticism. She approached the two of them and peered at the light table. A pavilion sat upon the glass, its structure complete, lines distinct, and the distribution of sand remarkably uniform. The overall effect was profoundly soothing.

Wen Wan’s brow furrowed deeper. She turned to Xiao Ding, asking, "He drew this?"

Xiao Ding nodded.

Wen Wan’s frown tightened as she looked at Meng Fan. "Have you studied this before?"

Meng Fan shook his head.

Xiao Ding chimed in, "Absolutely not. Teacher, you wouldn't believe it. At first, Brother Tie couldn't even scatter the sand properly... but within an hour, he had mastered the fundamentals! Then, for simple subjects like flowers, birds, fish, or insects, he’d watch once, try once, practice once, and he’d have it down. Not only did it look professional, but he could even apply the skills to new subjects!"

"It’s really that fast?"

Still unconvinced, Wen Wan abandoned the idea of lunch and looked at Meng Fan. "Is what Xiao Ding said true?"

Xiao Ding looked innocent; how could he be lying?

Seeing Meng Fan nod, Wen Wan asked him to demonstrate.

Meng Fan nodded, swept his hand across the table to clear the pavilion, then grabbed a handful of colored sand. With a fluid motion, he scattered it—heavy at the front, light at the back—and the body of a fish emerged. A few taps and strokes of his fingers brought out the eyes, whiskers, and fins. A fish seemed to leap from the table.

He gathered the remaining sand to the side, spun his fingers twice, swiped down, and pushed—a lotus flower bloomed.

He grabbed a few more handfuls, and in less than a minute, a scene of a fish playing among lotus flowers was complete.

Only after engaging with sand painting did Meng Fan realize how imprecise his earlier estimates of his own learning attributes had been. This wasn't just "suitable" for sand painting; it was a perfect match.

The biggest discrepancy was in hand speed. Meng Fan had assumed speed merely increased efficiency, but upon contact, he realized the true capabilities it granted his hands.

High speed required sharper neural reflexes and stronger muscles; in short, it meant total mastery of his hands.

He hadn't felt it much while drawing manga, though he knew his control was excellent when shooting hoops. But in sand painting, where the hand itself is the brush, Meng Fan was finally maximizing that potential.

In manga, he had the aid of a "universal brush," but in sand painting, his hands were, quite literally, the universal brush.

Wen Wan hadn't seen the process of the first pavilion, only the result. This time, she watched every movement: concise, rapid, clear, powerful, and bold. His technique was fluent, devoid of wasted motion. He stripped away the complex, the ugly, and the crude, leaving behind a breathtaking image. He had captured the very essence of sand painting: precision, refinement, and beauty.

Though there were surely flaws, comparing his current skill to the time he’d spent learning left even the experienced Wen Wan, who had taught many gifted students, momentarily stunned.

"No need to look anymore. Let’s go eat."

Having watched that piece, Wen Wan knew Meng Fan had mastered the basics. In less than two hours—including theory—his learning speed left her speechless.

No wonder he had been so confident.

There was a kitchen on the third floor with staff meals. After eating, they returned, and Wen Wan began teaching him personally. As for Xiao Ding, he maintained his curiosity and hovered in the studio, under the guise of "helping out."

"I won't repeat the basics; you just need to practice. One thing: since you’re coming from an animation background, keep that style. Don't feel you have to avoid it."

Wen Wan lit a stick of sandalwood. It was her habit; though sand painting had nothing to do with incense, it was her signature during any lesson or performance.

"Next, I’ll teach you complex, composite, and chromatic techniques. Once those are mastered, we’ll cover composition, layering, and negative space, and finally, how to tell a story through sand."

"Let’s start with composite and combination techniques. They are closely related; the former is an advancement of a single technique, the latter a blend of many."

"The premise of composite technique is liberating your fingers. Every finger, your palm, knuckles, back of the hand, even your wrists and elbows—these are your tools. Remember, you can rely on your most flexible parts, but never become dependent on them. That creates limitations. Keep this in mind from the start."

Wen Wan’s teaching style was simple: she spoke while demonstrating. She moved effortlessly between the profound and the simple, explaining the "how" and the "why" with total clarity.

Her teaching was flexible, adjusting to Meng Fan’s progress. If he grasped a concept instantly, she moved on; if it was difficult, she drilled it repeatedly.

The demonstrations were dazzling. Her fingers were elegant and agile, the movement between stillness and motion possessing a rare aesthetic. Even without the final image, the beauty of her hand movements alone was a gift from the heavens.

"Chromatic technique, also called visual technique, is the biggest difference between sand painting and manga. Other arts use it, but rarely. To put it simply: if you were to draw a cabbage in another medium, you’d draw the cabbage. In sand painting, you can choose to do this..."

Wen Wan swiped her hand across the table. The undulating, sand-covered surface was cleared, leaving a blank space in the shape of a cabbage.

In other arts, this would be like painting everything except the subject.

In sand painting, this was natural because scattering sand is easy, and what is scattered can be "erased."

Negative space.

This was Meng Fan’s greatest takeaway.

He tried it himself; it felt natural and incredibly fun.

"The same applies to faces..."

Wen Wan gave Meng Fan the most direct experience through demonstration, then broke down the techniques.

"Next... we talk about composition."

Wen Wan realized she had already finished the technical section. She paused, surprised by the speed. It felt as if she had been talking to herself, yet Meng Fan had kept pace—and not just by listening, but by executing. If he hadn't already mastered the techniques, she couldn't have moved this quickly.

"There isn't much to say about composition. Your foundation is enough. Let’s combine it with multi-image layering. The table is only so large; you must frequently cover your previous work. How you use elements from the previous image to frame the next is crucial. Otherwise, clearing the table after every image destroys the aesthetic of the performance."

...

"Those are the narrative methods. Finally, there is artistic conception. There are tricks to it, but it depends more on the artist's personal cultivation and their understanding of the world..."

At 4:30, Wen Wan stopped. She realized there was nothing left to teach.

It wasn't that she had run out of material, but rather that, given Meng Fan’s performance, there was no longer any need to say more.