Taking Liu Yifei back to Northeast China for the Chinese New Year has sent the entire internet into

Inside the room, several couplets, each with a distinct style but all considered masterpieces, were neatly laid out on the kang (a heated brick bed).

The rich scent of ink mixed with the fresh fragrance of new paper instantly gave this simple northeastern cottage a touch of scholarly elegance.

Of course, if we ignore the phrases like "getting something for nothing" and "windfall" in the couplets, the scholarly atmosphere might be even stronger.

Zhao Guifang liked it more and more as she looked at it, especially the one that read "God of Wealth, please don't get lost," which perfectly captured her heart.

"Son, your handwriting is really impressive!"

She carefully rolled up the couplet, her mouth never stopping praising it.

"It looks so festive! I have a feeling our family will really make a fortune next year!"

Fang Daqiang was also puffing on a cigarette, his face beaming with undisguised smugness.

Although his son's writing was somewhat "unorthodox," his handwriting truly made him proud.

He's still relishing the look of shock and disbelief on Teacher Wang's face just now.

"That's right, don't you know whose son he is?" Fang Daqiang exhaled a smoke ring and began to pat himself on the back.

Fang Yu ignored him and was quietly bragging to Liu Yifei.

"See? This shows what it means for art to originate from life."

"This is what we call realistic calligraphy that is popular with the masses."

Liu Yifei rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't help but smile.

In the midst of this joyful atmosphere, Fang Daqiang seemed to suddenly remember something and slapped his thigh.

"Oh no! That's not right!"

His shout startled everyone.

"What's wrong? Why are you so startled?" Zhao Guifang asked irritably.

Fang Daqiang's smugness vanished instantly, replaced by a solemn expression. He pointed to the rolled-up couplet, then to the empty wall, and said urgently:

"We have the couplets, but... but where's the magic code?"

My god!

The moment those two words left her lips, the smile on Zhao Guifang's face vanished instantly.

In Northeast China, pasting couplets during the Lunar New Year is for good luck, but inviting the gods is a very serious matter.

God of Wealth, Jade Emperor, Door Gods...

These colored papers printed with images of deities are to be respectfully brought into the home to bless the coming year with favorable weather and peace for the household.

Forgetting to buy couplets is just a matter of being laughed at for being careless.

But if you forget to invite the gods, then the problem will be serious!

This is a great disrespect to the gods!

"Oh dear!" Zhao Guifang stamped her feet in anxiety. "What are we going to do? We can't possibly paint another one of these deities, can we?"

The viewers in the live stream, especially those from the north, immediately felt the tense atmosphere.

[Oh no, I forgot to buy Shenma! This is a disaster!]

In our area, if you don't invite the gods into your home on New Year's Eve, you'll be scolded to death by your elders!

You can write your own couplets, but you can't exactly draw the gods yourself, can you? A poorly drawn one would be a grave disrespect!

Inside the room, Teacher Wang also realized the seriousness of the problem.

He pushed up his reading glasses and looked at Fang Yu, speaking with some uncertainty.

"Um... Fang Yu."

"I remember when you were little... your drawing skills weren't that great either, were they?"

He tried hard to recall, and the artwork Fang Yu had created in elementary school art class came to mind.

A circle represents the head, several matchsticks represent the limbs, and a square with curved lines rising from it represents the house and the smoke from the chimney.

It's not that they have no talent, but rather that their art style is unique.

As soon as Teacher Wang said this, Fang's parents' eyes all fell on Fang Yu.

The meaning in his eyes was quite clear.

Son, we accept that you write well.

But this painting... you'd better stop bragging, this is no joke.

However, Fang Yu showed no sign of panic; instead, he wore a mysterious smile that suggested he had everything under control.

"Teacher Wang, you should look at someone with new eyes after three days of separation," Fang Yu said slowly. "Writing and painting have the same origin."

"If you can write characters, then painting is naturally no problem either."

He spoke these words casually, yet they exuded a powerful confidence.

Fang Daqiang and Zhao Guifang exchanged a glance, both feeling a bit uneasy.

Will this really work?

Liu Yifei had now become Fang Yu's "die-hard fan".

Having gone through a series of events, including being pulled by a wild boar on a sled, hitting the ring toss with perfect accuracy, and making cotton candy by hand, she now has a blind trust in Fang Shiyu.

Forget about drawing gods; if Fang Yu said he could conjure a rocket by hand and send it soaring into the sky, Liu Yifei would probably ask him without hesitation, "Do you need me to tighten the screws for you?"

Before Fang Yu could speak, she had already stood up and quickly collected the red paper with the couplets written on it on the table, and then laid out a clean sheet of white Xuan paper.

Then, she picked up the two boxes of Chinese painting paints that Fang Yu had just bought, skillfully opened them, squeezed more than a dozen colors into the palette, and placed a glass of water next to her.

The movements were fluid and perfectly coordinated.

"Fang Da, the artist."

Liu Yifei handed a clean calligraphy brush to Fang Yu, blinked, and looked just like a well-behaved little page.

"The pens and paints have all been prepared for you."

Fang Yu took the pen, and his entire demeanor changed once again.

If he was like a Confucian general, commanding the world and pointing out the direction of the land, when he was writing just now, then...

So at this moment, when he holds a paintbrush and faces a blank sheet of paper, all the noise and unruliness in him disappear, replaced by a kind of almost devout tranquility.

His gaze was focused, as if the whole world consisted only of the paper and pen before him, and the painting that was about to take shape in his mind.

Everyone in the room held their breath. Even Zhao Guifang, who was usually the loudest, instinctively covered her mouth, afraid that her breathing might disturb him.

Without the slightest hesitation, Fang Yu began to write.

His brushwork is extremely skillful; he sometimes uses the tip of the brush to lightly touch out delicate lines.

Sometimes, the side of the brush is used to spread color over a large area.

The colors diffused on the rice paper, creating distinct layers and natural transitions without the slightest hesitation.

Teacher Wang stood by the table, her eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

Although he specializes in calligraphy, he also has considerable knowledge of traditional Chinese painting.

As soon as Fang Yu made his move, he knew that this was no longer at the level of "being able to draw".

This is...this is the level of a master!

Especially the skill in mixing colors; when several colors meet on the paper, they do not appear dirty or messy, but rather complement each other, creating a luxurious and dignified texture.

"This...this is the meticulous brushwork of traditional Chinese painting?" Teacher Wang murmured to himself, his voice filled with disbelief. "And it even incorporates techniques from boneless painting...this...how is this possible?"

Fang Yu ignored him, completely absorbed in his own creation.

As his brushstrokes moved, the image of a character gradually became clear on the paper.

He wore a crown and a red official robe embroidered with golden dragons. His face was fair and clean, and five long strands of beard flowed down his chest.

His facial expressions are depicted with particular vividness.

His eyes were slightly lowered, and a faint smile played at the corners of his mouth, giving him a kind and gentle appearance, yet also exuding an air of quiet authority.

The most amazing thing was the gold ingot he was holding in his hand.

Fang Yu used only a few yellow pigments and, through the manipulation of light and shadow and luster, managed to create a golden, heavy texture.

The gold ingots seemed not to be drawn on paper, but rather to truly overflow from the painting.

When Fang Yu finished the last stroke, adding a highlight to the eyes of this immortal.

Something amazing happened.

The eyes of the person in the painting seem to have been instantly infused with a soul, and suddenly come to "come alive".

He seemed to be looking kindly at everyone in the room through the paper.

An indescribable "spirit" emanated from the painting and enveloped the entire room.