Chapter 167:


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Although the scene was once evenly matched, in Xiao Li's words, Jiang is still old and spicy. Although there seems to be something wrong with this sentence, as a silent ghost ghost, Xiuji's strength is obviously greater than this ghost. Painted by the hand.
Originally, the distance between the hand of Xiuji and the ghost painting was in the middle of the corridor, but as time passed, the place where the palms of the two sides met was gradually dragged in the direction of the ancient painting, and the arm that protruded from the wall of the gallery was drawn more and more. Long, it was finally dragged into the ancient paintings.
Xiao Li opened the ancient painting and saw that the ghost hand was completely stiff and lost its vitality as soon as it entered the ancient painting. It looked like a specimen, withered and pale.
Xiuji was playing with this arm. Thinking about it, she didn't think it was interesting. She changed hands and threw it to Stickman.
The stickman was not interested in this thing either, he let go of his hand, let the ghost hand fall to the ground, and turned to look at Xiao Li.
It reacted very slowly. It looked at Xiao Li sluggishly, then jumped up slowly after about half a minute, and shook his hand at him, looking very friendly.
Xiao Li raised his index finger and knocked the stickman on the head, looking quite like Sa Huan, his descendants.
Suddenly there was a shallow breathing in his ears. When he looked up, he saw Shen Mirage.
The young man had already inadvertently leaned over, his eyes were heavy, he looked at the small part of the back of the young man's neck that was exposed by lowering his head. The complexion on that side was fair and delicate. At this moment, Xiao Li turned his head, and he was calm. Turn your eyes to the painting.
Most of the time, Xiao Li doesn't like to share his emotions with outsiders, but this time is different. There are many famous paintings here, but only the stickman is painted by himself. This adds to Xiao Li's sense of honor, and he lifts his eyes lightly. Glancing at him, it's rare to show off with interest: "Look, my son."
His son is dangling his two linear arms, happily like a matchstick in a mobile copycat game.
The boy's black eyes are like gems soaked in the mist in the forest, even in the dark, they look radiant.
His appearance was printed in the pupils of the youth, and Shen Mirzhi's eyes were bent, and he didn't know whether he was exaggerating or exaggerating: "Well, it looks good."
beauty.
Xiao Li always felt that something was wrong, so he glanced at him and picked up the ancient painting again.
Shen Mirage: "Don't say goodbye to your son?"
Xiao Li: "... My son is too stupid to understand, forget it."
Zheng Yi and Ye Zeqing on the side were uncomfortable hearing them, but they lost their hatred with their fans, and they felt a little short-term sympathy.
Xiao Li took the lead and continued to follow the direction Xiuji pointed, while the others followed him.
With Xiuji's interruption, most of the original tension dissipated. Zheng Yi sighed in a low voice, "This is the strangest copy I have ever entered."
"Who said no?" When someone took the initiative to speak, Chen Jinghan also sighed, "Forced entry, if there is no big boss, maybe we have to reduce the number of people in the first exhibition hall by half."
"What the is this place? I've been thinking about it as soon as I come in. What is the way of life?"
With Xiuji's lead, the corridor that could not be walked to the end seems to have come to an end. When everyone came to the fork in the depths of the gallery again, the surrounding walls suddenly became empty.
But in fact, the width and height of the corridor have not changed. Samsaras will have this illusion just because of a change-
The paintings hanging on the surrounding walls are gone.
With a wide open door as the dividing line, countless paintings are inlaid on the wall outside the door, spreading to the depths, but inside the door, the wall is clean and white as before, which is visually sudden Cheerful.
Fu Guangbo broke the silence: "Where is the'initiator'?"
He had never dared to look directly at Xiuji before, and now he took the opportunity to look at ancient paintings with eyes mixed with fear, joy, and tension. He even saw the stickman who was called the "son" by the big guy. It showed a horrified look.
This time Xiao Li didn't look down at Xiuji, because the facts were already very obvious.
With a simple "um", he stepped over the threshold and walked deeper.
Inside this gate is a large empty room, like the exposure room of a camera, with dim light and many thin lines hanging on the wall.
In the center of the room is a table with various painting tools, various paints for oil paintings, brushes and inks for ink paintings, a small inkstone, and all kinds of painting tools. Painting tools.
And not far from the table, there is a drawing board.
An old figure facing the incoming reincarnations, short stature, slightly hunched back, gray hair, holding a paint pen in his hand, facing the drawing board in front of him.
If this scene took place in an outside studio, it would not be surprising, but here is a haunted studio, and the more important thing is that this figure has only the upper body.
When the ghost painting appeared, Zheng Yi and others believed in Xiao Li again. At this time, they were still instinctively nervous and scared. This is a kind of inner fear.
The ghost painting seems to be in some predicament and has been ignoring them.
Holding an ancient painting in one hand, Xiao Li put the other hand in his pocket, approached the drawing board where the ghost was painted, and found that the other party was painting an oil painting.
The paint is painted in two colors of red and black, covering a large area, but at present it is impossible to see what the painting is.
Obviously feeling his approach, the ghost painter didn't look up, and used paint to paint a humanoid object on the drawing board, and then said: "Welcome to Pavilion R."
Its sound is awful, like the noise made by a sharp object rubbing against steel.
Xiao Li noticed that the figure he drew at the end of the stroke had no face, only a rough outline.
Looking at the artist's demeanor and the degree of concentration in painting, he can finish the painting first, and then pay attention to them, but the other party chose to leave blank and stop painting directly.
Does this mean... the other party is trying to use them to fill the face in the painting?
Could the ghosts and monsters who are locked in the painting come out like this?
The ghost painter never put down the brush in his hand, with a crazy look, he looked at the drawing board in front of him, intoxicated: "I am an artist, and I am not as bloodthirsty as other people of the same kind. Now that you have come in, you are my prey. , I should kill you all. But if you find me, I can also give you this opportunity, as long as you are willing to pay a certain price."
Xiao Li: "What's the price?"
The painting ghost uttered two words: "Vote."
"The picture I have on hand still lacks a face. I want you to vote for yourself present, and choose a person to be the face in my painting."
At the beginning of the first sentence of Huagui's explanation, Fu Guangbo's heartbeat began to accelerate.
He uncontrollably began to turn his eyes away from the teammates present, and quickly skipped Xiao Li and the others, instead placing them on the remaining Chen Jinghan and others.
If you really want to vote, the Herculi Nabo crowd is definitely not enough, there is only one left--
Before he finished turning this cautious thought, he heard the paint ghost approaching and screaming in a tone shift.
"The selected person will always exist in this painting..." The painting ghost was about to look up to appreciate the human infighting, but when he glanced at the ancient painting that Xiao Li was holding, he suddenly forgot What I want to say.
The pupils of the ghost painter dilated for a moment, as if seeing something incredible: "This, this picture..."
Xiao Li was surprised, and lowered his head to ask Xiuji: "Know?"
Xiuji covered her face with a sleeve of disgust and shook her head.
The ghost painter seemed to have not heard it. He tremblingly stretched out his fingers to touch the screen. When Xiao Li stopped him, he stumbled and said, "A stunning work, this is absolutely stunning! Yes! Did you paint it? No, it won’t be you. How do you fit in as a human being? The brushstroke of this painting is wonderful. This technique, this outline, directly bestows the soul in the painting... Wait, this corner What is the monster in here?!"
He said that, Zheng Yi was not very happy.
Zheng Yi himself is not very young, and he is prone to congestion. He is a typical rebellious teenager. At this moment, when the painter said Xiao Li, he forgot to be afraid and immediately jumped out to argue for Sherlock: "Why didn't he Will it?! Hercule is good at painting, and he painted a portrait of Bloody Mary."
On this point, he actually said that the people on the forum said that this portrait was ranked third in "Sherlock's Ten Unsolved Mysteries". Although Qing Shui also said later that Sherlock's painting was not good, Zheng Yi just looked at it and didn't believe it very much. He felt that Xiao Li's painter must be a hack.
What Zheng Yi said was true and sincere, just like the truth, the ghost painting was stunned: "Bloody Mary? Portrait?"
Ye Zeqing was in a daze for a moment: Is Moriarty's painting really that good?
The paintings he saw on the ghost ship were obviously ugly...?
Moreover, painting a portrait of Bloody Mary, how does this example seem to be seen somewhere?
As a fan of Moriarty and Hercules, although Ye Zeqing likes to play these two names with Zheng Yi, he always avoids the only shortcoming of the big guy like painting skills.
As for the deeds of Zheng Yi male Sherlock, Ye Zeqing upheld his usual indifference and never understood.
The corner of Xiao Li's mouth twitched, and now he was struggling to ride a tiger, so he could only cough: "I didn't paint this ancient painting, but I did paint a portrait of her..."
Painted ghost: "Is it really Bloody Mary?"
Xiao Li reluctantly said, "It's her."
"Really?"
Xiao Li: "..."
The third time.
Xiao Li: "Why don't you ask her yourself."
He looked back at the painting ghost with an unbelieving expression, but looked back cleanly, looking for candles but failed, and finally said to the ghost: "Help me, paint three candles? Come to the mirror."
The ghost painter was silent for a while, maybe it was really an artist as he said it was. At this moment, another drawing board was really turned up and three candles in front of the mirror were painted on it.
Its painting skills are very good. If it is put into the modern era, it must be contemporary people.
The three candles are lifelike in terms of material and color. In the weak light, they look like three candles floating in the air, with light blue flames burning on them, and everything is reflected in the mirror.
Xiao Li muttered "Bloody Mary" three times in his heart, and soon saw the shadow of the blonde beauty appear on the wall of the studio while the candlelight was flailing.
As soon as Bloody Maripu appeared, the first thing she saw was not Xiao Li, but the ghost painter. Just as she raised her brows, she heard the ghost painter excitedly ask: "He... really painted a portrait of you?"
Bloody Mary:? ? ?
That's it?
Call her all the way, just ask this?
Xiao Li: "I painted for you, right?"
Bloody Mary who seems to have guessed the situation: "..."
She may not be a human, but Sherlock is a real dog.
Of course, as a good evil spirit, she certainly chose to help him deceive others.
The blonde beauty lifted the long hair on her shoulders, and she said in a reminiscent and nostalgic tone: "Yes, I still remember what you looked like when you painted me. I was so looking forward to it, and the real thing is not at all. It didn't disappoint me. That painting is still in my castle. Well, think about it, that portrait is the beginning of my response to your call."
For some reason, Xiao Li always felt that the other party's last sentence was a bit gritted.
The ghost painter doesn’t care about Bloody Mary’s tone. It got the answer it wanted, and immediately turned its head to Xiao Li and said,
Draw a picture for me, draw a picture in front of me. This is my lifelong wish. My greater work makes art no longer lonely."
Xiao Li: "...This is not so good."
Lie...no, lie to ghosts or something.
The ghost painting is quite insistent: "Promise me, I can consider whatever conditions you have and draw a picture for me."
Xiao Li thought for a while, but he was not ready to take advantage of the danger. He raised a finger: "Change painting for one painting."
"Equal exchange, I will give you my painting, and you will give me a painting that suggests a way of life, and wait until we leave the exhibition hall before we can open each other's paintings."
He is not worried about the other party's breach of contract, because Bloody Mary is here as a "notary."
This blonde beauty seemed quite interested in being a helper, because she could see another hapless poisoned by this guy.
The ghost painting hesitated for a moment, but then glanced at the Xiuji in the ancient painting, and quickly made up his mind: "Okay."
It discarded the drawing board with the candle, took a new one, dipped it in paint, and devoted himself to the latest work.
At first it looked back a few times and wanted to take a peek at Xiao Li's paintings, but after several attempts it was blocked by Bloody Mary.
After both parties finished their paintings, Xiao Li turned his painting group into a volume and handed them to the ghost painters for exchange.
The ghost painter almost fetched Xiao Li's scroll with excitement, and held it tightly in his hand.
Bloody Mary watched the reincarnations walk away until she left the exhibition hall. She turned around interestingly to see the face of Huagui.
Finally...I can finally see it.
The rolled up picture scroll was forced to open unwillingly, and the painting ghost's old face was filled with a little excitement until the picture completely appeared before its eyes.
Ghost painting:? ? ?
He was fooled!
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In the face of Sherlock, I have no promise, and in the face of reincarnation, I strike out.
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