Shut up, I am really a pure love god of war!

Chapter 224: "Strange World" is published
During the lunch break, Bai Yang returned to the dormitory and wrote another chapter in his notebook.

Then I received a message from the editor.

"The physical copy of 'Weird World' will be released on Friday. Is the address you filled in the author information still valid? The publisher should be able to send you a lot of sample copies."

The address filled in the author's information is Nanxi Middle School, which is Bai Dejun's residence.

Bai Yang thought about it and replied: "It works."

Editor Lan Zhou: "Okay, one more thing. If the physical book sells well, the publisher might hold a book signing event. What do you think?"

Bai Yang refused without hesitation: "As an online writer, I don't do these things."

Editor Lan Zhou: "Then I will go and communicate with the publishing house."

He was not surprised. After all, most online writers were too lazy to hold book signings as online subscriptions were the bulk of their income. Besides, online writers were the kind of people who stayed in their rooms typing away for long periods of time, and most of them were quite socially anxious.

It seemed that Lan Zhou was very happy to have such a book published. He even joked: "We have known each other for such a long time. It's not too much to send me a signed book, right?"

Bai Yang smiled and said, "I would have sent it even if you didn't mention it. Did you send it directly to the editorial department?"

Editor Lan Zhou: "Yes, of course. I will also buy a few copies for my colleagues."

You want to show off.

The performance of an editor is naturally linked to the performance of the author. Bai Yang is very worried that Lan Zhou will be beaten up by other editors in the editorial department because of his arrogance.
Of course, he had never seen Lan Zhou in person.

After finishing the chat with Lan Zhou, Bai Yang opened Bai Dejun’s chat box.

"Dad, the physical book will be published soon. The publisher will send some sample copies to your home. Remember to check them."

Nanxi Middle School had not yet closed for holiday. In the middle of the day, Bai Dejun was naturally sitting in front of his computer in the office. He replied to the message soon after.

Spring arrives at Xiangjiang River: "Is it really published?"

"So sudden?"

Bai Yang: "It's not sudden. We have already agreed on the copyright cooperation a long time ago. I forgot to tell you before."

Chundao Xiangjiang: "Got it, I'll check it out."

The text reply was very bland, but Bai Dejun, who was sitting in the office, jumped up from his chair.

The other teachers all looked over at once.

He didn't care. He clenched his fists tightly and his face turned red with excitement.

"What's wrong, Mr. Bai? What great event has happened?"

The teacher next to him asked curiously.

“Ahem—” Bai Dejun smiled: “Not really, it’s just something that was expected and it finally happened.”

Without waiting for others to ask questions, he said directly: "Didn't I tell you before that my son is writing a novel?"

"That's right." The teacher next to him showed an envious expression: "You can earn tens of thousands a month. You can't forget it even if you want to."

"That's old news." Bai Dejun waved his hand and said, "I just received a message from my son that his book has been published. If you are interested, I will give you a copy and you can take it home and read it."

"Ah?" The teachers all opened their mouths wide.

"Published?"

"Isn't this an online novel? Can it really be published as a physical book?"

Bai Dejun raised his chin slightly and said, "I've already said that my son just chose the Internet as a platform to publish his novels. What he wrote is different from the Internet novels you have in mind."

"Otherwise, why would the publishing house publish it?"

One teacher sighed, "Teacher Bai, your family has produced a great writer. It seems you can enjoy your life in advance."

"We are all colleagues, you should at least give me a signed book, right? Maybe it can be worth a lot of money in the future."

Bai Dejun laughed and said, "Signed book? My son is in the capital now, and even I don't have a signed book." "When he has time to come back, I'll mention it to him."

He picked up his phone and hurried out of the office: "Everyone, get busy first. I'm going to make a few calls."

Bai Dejun won't be able to sleep if he doesn't check his address book today because of this good news.

However, Bai Yang, who was far away in the imperial capital, was not so deeply touched. After taking the initiative to call his mother to inform her of the good news, he returned to his daily life in the studio.

There was a color class in the afternoon, and I finally met the color teacher.

One of them is nearly middle-aged, his surname is Jiang, and he has been engaged in the art training industry for some years. The other is a junior student at the Academy of Fine Arts, working as a teaching assistant.

There are two teachers for more than thirty people. I have to say that the teaching staff in the studio is quite good.

As usual, Teacher Jiang first made a sample painting for everyone, and then arranged still life to test the basics.

Needless to say, Chun Yuwan's color level was outstanding, which made Teacher Jiang marvel at it. He even singled her out and used her as an example to explain to the students.

It also left everyone with a deeper impression of this cold beauty.

As for Bai Yang, although he has practiced for more than half a year, his color skills can only be considered average. Teacher Jiang can see at a glance that his color perception is weak and his color usage technique is purely imitating Chun Yuwan.

"This tricky approach is feasible. It's not so bad here in the capital. For example, the studios in Hangzhou basically teach a routine in color courses. All students paint the same. But after practicing for more than half a year, you can get 80 points on the test. If you imitate Chun Yuwan's colors, you may get a higher score."

"Of course, I personally still think that you can't completely give up your own sense of color. In this way, if you have time, you can buy some Impressionist albums to appreciate and copy them. It will still be helpful."

Teacher Jiang’s suggestion was very pertinent, so Bai Yang naturally agreed.

In the evening, there is a sketching class, also taught by an experienced teacher. The process is not much different. For Bai Yang, sketching, a project that emphasizes basic skills, is easy for him to master, and he basically has no rivals among the students.

Daily life in the studio is not exciting, even more dull and regular than when I was in school.

Get up, draw, eat, and continue drawing. After a day of drawing, go back to the dormitory to sleep, and get up the next day to continue drawing.

Training is not a summer camp. These two words themselves mean "boring" and "busy". Moreover, there are very few people in the studio, everyone is generally very serious about painting, and the place is small, so it is difficult for interesting things to happen.

Thus, a week passed uneventfully.

"Finally liberated!"

Zeng Jianeng had a numb expression on his face: "From the first day, I regretted coming to the training camp. What kind of hell is this! How did you manage to hold on?"

"I just draw all the time, over and over again. Now I feel like vomiting when I see paper."

Bai Yang smiled and said, "But I have persevered through it, haven't I? And even though it's only been a week, I have made great progress."

Zeng Jianeng sighed, "Everyone is working so hard. I would feel guilty even if I wanted to slack off. Even a pig would make progress if they painted at such a high intensity for a week."

She had already painted almost more this week than she had in the previous month.

"Thinking that there are still seven or eight months of this kind of life ahead of me, I am completely desperate."

Bai Yang comforted him, "This is intensive training. Think positively. If you work hard for seven or eight months, maybe you can get into the Academy of Fine Arts."

"You're not talking about CAFA, are you?" Zeng Jianeng's mouth twitched. "I know myself well. If CAFA was that easy, there wouldn't be so many people repeating their studies for years. My goal is still a comprehensive university. I'll be satisfied if I can get into a top university."

She changed the subject: "Tomorrow is a holiday, don't tell me you are going to continue painting in the studio."

"That's not the case." Bai Yang smiled and said, "I plan to go to the city center for a stroll. When I arrive in the capital, I'll go straight to Songzhuang. There are many places I haven't been to yet."

"I knew it." Zeng Jianeng became excited: "You don't want to take Wanwan with you and not us, do you?"

Bai Yang: ".Of course not."

Although I really think so in my heart.

But after all, the Xiangdong group of four naturally formed a small group because they traveled far away to the imperial capital. They usually sat together to paint, and it seemed a bit bad that they split up during the first holiday.

"We'll leave tomorrow morning. I'll call you then."

(End of this chapter)