Chapter 187: Only Lacking Practice

Chapter 187: Only Practice Remains

With the augmentation of multiple attributes, the conversion rate of his painting skill, boosted by 26 points, accelerated significantly.

Throughout this process, Meng Fan compared his progress to the sand art techniques demonstrated by Wen Wan. He could clearly feel the speed of his own transformation; in just a few hours, it had been remarkably fast—even quicker than he had originally anticipated.

Meng Fan was fairly certain that within three days at most, through persistent and repetitive training, his mastery of the craft would catch up to Wen Wan’s level.

Of course, this applied strictly to the technical side of painting. Things like stage presence, storytelling ability, and artistic conception were not things that could be gained through a mere conversion of skill points.

If others were sponges soaking up water as they learned, Meng Fan was undoubtedly an oil well with astonishing reserves. Wen Wan was the driller; a tap here would bring a spurt, another tap would bring another, and after enough tapping, the well was flowing freely. What remained was simply a matter of refining it through practice and stage performance.

Just as Meng Fan was enjoying the sensation of being "mined," he noticed Wen Wan suddenly stop. He was immediately disappointed and asked in confusion, "Teacher Wen, why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?"

Wen Wan picked up her cup, her tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. "What more is there to say? You’ve completely drained me dry!"

"Huh?" Meng Fan blinked, stunned.

Wen Wan took a sip of water, as if catching her breath, and said, "I’ve told you everything there is to tell. There’s nothing left to teach. All you need to do now is practice repeatedly, digest the techniques, and find your own intuition. I really have nothing left to offer you. At most, once your practice volume is sufficient, I can share some stage performance experience with you, but beyond that, there’s truly nothing else. However, if you run into any problems, feel free to come to me; I’d be happy to discuss them with you."

"Oh?"

Meng Fan was still taken aback, though he quickly understood the situation. Even so, he maintained an expression of surprise; he couldn't exactly act as if this were all a matter of course.

"What are you 'oh-ing' about!"

Wen Wan was both annoyed and amused. "I’m actually a bit depressed. I’ve never seen anyone like you; it’s impossible for a teacher to conduct a proper lesson! If Xiao Ding hadn't told me you started with zero experience, I’d suspect you were faking it. This learning pace is terrifying. You keep practicing; I need to go recover. This is too hurtful!"

Wen Wan actually left, leaving Meng Fan feeling rather embarrassed. Beside him, Xiao Ding stared at Meng Fan as if he were a monster. He did a quick mental calculation: for him to reach the level Meng Fan had just attained, it would have taken at least a full semester!

Moreover, at this rate, Xiao Ding felt that Meng Fan catching up to him was only a matter of a day or two.

Heaven knows when Meng Fan might achieve a sudden breakthrough and open up his internal meridians!

This kind of competitor was simply too terrifying.

Of course, surprise aside, neither Wen Wan nor Xiao Ding found it entirely inconceivable. After all, sand art relies heavily on a foundation in drawing, and Meng Fan’s foundation was top-tier. Getting the hang of it so quickly was fast, but not exactly supernatural.

Drawing inferences from one instance to another.

In the field of art, this was a fairly normal occurrence.

Meng Fan checked the time, then looked at Xiao Ding and said with a smile, "Senior Ding, could you point me in the right direction for practice?"

...

After dinner, Meng Fan didn't leave; he lingered as if he had no intention of going anywhere.

Meng Fan had treated them to this meal, ordering delivery from the Waterside Restaurant. The table was spread with dishes far more lavish than the midday work meals. Several studio members who had planned to go home or out to eat decided to stay and finish the meal first. Although the Waterside Restaurant was near the school, it was still an expensive establishment; even for art students with decent means, it wasn't a daily indulgence.

When it came to social conduct, or perhaps managing interpersonal relationships, Meng Fan felt that for close friends, one should put in more heart, and for acquaintances, one should spend a bit more money. Generally speaking, that was enough to save a lot of time and trouble.

One should be generous; that was something his family had taught him since he was young.

Of course, one must also avoid being a pushover.

There weren't many people in the studio that evening, and Wen Wan had long since departed.

By 10:00 PM, Xiao Ding was truly exhausted.

Meng Fan had been practicing the entire time. Xiao Ding had watched for a while, but he couldn't just stand there forever, so he had gone off to practice on his own.

It was ten o'clock, and seeing that Meng Fan showed no signs of wanting to rest, Xiao Ding was genuinely impressed.

Is this "Iron Tower" guy just purely talented?

Probably not entirely.

He adapted to sand art so quickly because his drawing foundation was solid, but that foundation itself was clearly built through grueling, bitter practice.

Xiao Ding had watched Meng Fan’s livestreams and knew from other sources just how terrifying his output of artwork was.

He envied Meng Fan’s talent, but he envied his diligence even more.

He felt that he, too, needed to work twice as hard.

However, it was already ten o'clock, and he had been at the studio since eight in the morning. A full day of practice was more than enough.

"Brother Iron."

Although he was a year ahead of Meng Fan, Xiao Ding was happy to use this nickname—partly because it was amusing, and partly out of genuine respect.

"Are you going to keep practicing? In a little while, the school gates will be locked."

"The school gates closing doesn't matter; my home is right in this neighborhood. It’s just..." Meng Fan glanced outside, estimating that the studio staff had mostly cleared out. "It seems like there’s no one left in the studio, right?"

"Your home is nearby?"

Xiao Ding was genuinely surprised. He understood what Meng Fan was worried about and said, "If you want to keep practicing, that’s no problem. There’s always someone here at the studio; I’ll go tell them."

"Then thank you."

"Small matter."

Not long after Xiao Ding left, a studio member whom Meng Fan had seen during dinner walked over, told Meng Fan to just turn off the lights and lock the door when he left, and then turned and walked away, seemingly in a hurry to get somewhere.

Meng Fan practiced for a while, then stopped to chat after seeing a WeChat message from Wu Tong. Along the way, he sent messages to Bai Zhi and Su Qingcen, asking what songs they would be performing at the Double Eleven Gala.

"Let me show you something interesting."

While waiting for a reply, Meng Fan sent a video he had just filmed to Wu Tong.

The video was, of course, a sand art clip. As for the content, it was slightly shameful and quite shameless.

Meng Fan first used sand to scatter two very cursive characters: "Wu Tong," written vertically. Then, with a handful of sand, he made a few quick adjustments, and the characters transformed into a Wutong tree. Next, he wrote the characters "Meng Fan." Using the character "Fan" as a base, he easily transformed it into a bird spreading its wings to fly, which then landed on the Wutong tree. Finally, using the tree as a canvas, he pushed, hooked, dotted, and stroked... until two figures emerged—no, a pair of lovers.

He even added music—not related to the sand art, but related to the two of them: a snippet of "The Rest of My Life."

Tsk, tsk.

Su Qingcen and Bai Zhi replied quickly, without asking any questions.

Su Qingcen was performing a solo, while Bai Zhi was singing a duet with a male celebrity. Both of them had only one song each.