He unexpectedly becomes a father at the start of his life, and the mother of his child is a national

Chen Hao shook his head, vigorously shaking his head to shake off the irritating thought.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, calmed himself down, and when he opened them again, his gaze was focused again.

Now is not the time to think about these things. He needs to finish painting "A Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix" as soon as possible and not let these external distractions affect his creative work.

The brush tip fell back onto the rice paper, continuing to depict the patterns on the phoenix's tail feathers. Each stroke was still meticulous and earnest, as if the phone call and the thoughts from just now had never occurred to him.

[Ding! Continue creating "Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix". Ignoring external distractions, drawing skill experience points +420]

Before we knew it, it was noon.

Chen Hao put down his pen, stretched, and felt a bit sore in his shoulders and neck. Maintaining one posture for a long time while drawing had made his whole body stiff.

He rubbed his shoulders, walked to the studio door, looked at the sky outside, and realized that it was lunchtime.

He had no appetite for cooking or going out, so he took out the leftover steamed buns and pickled vegetables from the refrigerator, poured himself a glass of warm water, and sat down at the small table in the kitchen for a simple lunch.

The steamed buns were a bit cold, and the pickled vegetables were quite ordinary, but he ate them very attentively without the slightest complaint.

For him, lunch was just a way to fill his stomach. As long as he could continue painting and protect Sisi and Lin Caiwei, these little things were insignificant.

After lunch, he rested for ten minutes to relieve his fatigue before returning to his studio, picking up his brush, and continuing to create.

He remained focused, only occasionally pausing to rub his aching wrists or take a sip of water before immediately returning to his creative work.

After drawing for more than an hour, he felt a little tired, his head was heavy, and the lines he drew gradually became stiff.

He knew that continuing like this would only affect the quality of his work, so he put down his brush and tidied up his drawing table.

I washed the outlining brush clean, placed it on the brush holder, and then left the studio and lay down on the sofa in the living room.

He closed his eyes, wanting to rest for a while and relieve his fatigue, but he couldn't help thinking about the people who were looking for him, about Sisi and Lin Caiwei, his thoughts were chaotic and disordered.

Just then, the phone rang again, its buzzing vibration breaking the silence of the living room.

Chen Hao opened his eyes, picked up his phone, and glanced at the screen. This time it wasn't an unfamiliar number; it was Lin Sinian.

A slight thought crossed his mind, and he pressed the answer button.

"Grandpa." His voice was soft, with a slight hoarseness from just waking up.

"Chen Hao," Lin Sinian's voice came from the other end of the phone, tinged with helplessness and weariness.

"Did I disturb your rest? I think you're probably drawing or resting at this time."

"No, Grandpa, I just rested for a while. Please tell me." Chen Hao sat up, leaned back on the sofa, and his tone became serious.

He knew that Lin Sinian wouldn't call him easily unless there was something wrong, especially at this time; something must have happened.

Lin Sinian sighed, his tone filled with even more helplessness: "It's still that Yu Mobai."

He came to my house very early this morning, just as dawn was breaking. He sat in the living room and wouldn't leave, calling me "Old Lin" over and over again.

He was respectful, but he kept pestering me, insisting that I tell him who Haolin was and where I could find him.

I told him I couldn't tell him, that it was his privacy and I had to respect his wishes, but he wouldn't listen.

He spent the whole morning trying to persuade me, saying he just wanted to meet once, no photos, no contact information, just a chat with Haolin to ask about his creative philosophy, nothing more.

Chen Hao didn't speak, but just gripped his phone, his fingertips tightening slightly.

He had long expected that Yu Mobai would not give up easily, but he did not expect that Yu Mobai would be so persistent that he would actually go to Lin Sinian's house to pester him.

Lin Sinian is getting old, and Yu Mobai's constant pestering of him will definitely put him in a difficult position.

Lin Sinian continued, "He pestered me all morning. I really couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't persuade him to leave, and I couldn't chase him away either. After all, he is the president of the Chinese Painting Association, and I still have to save face."

I just want to ask you, would you like to see him? Just once, have a few words with him, get rid of him and make him stop bothering me.

If you're not willing, I'll find another way. At worst, I'll just have a falling out with him. I don't care about saving face; I just don't want to put you in a difficult position.

Chen Hao remained silent for a few seconds, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts.

He knew that Lin Sinian was doing it for his own good, not wanting to put him in a difficult position, nor wanting himself to be entangled with Yu Mobai.

He knew Yu Mobai's character to some extent; although persistent, he was upright and honest, and probably wouldn't do anything excessive.

But he still couldn't see him. If he did, his identity might be exposed, and even a single meeting could leave a flaw in his record.

He thought for a moment, then gently shook his head and said firmly, "Grandpa, I don't want to reveal my identity right now."

It's not that I don't trust Chairman Yu, nor that I'm disrespecting you; it's just that I have my own considerations, and there are some things I can't say for the time being.

"When the time is right, when I can ensure Sisi and Caiwei's safety, I will explain to you and reconsider meeting Chairman Yu. Could you please help me stall for a while longer?"

Lin Sinian didn't press the matter. He understood Chen Hao's personality. Since Chen Hao said he had his own considerations, he must have his reasons. Pressing the matter would only put Chen Hao in a difficult position.

He sighed softly and said, "Okay, I understand."

"Then I'll continue to shield you. Don't worry, Yu Mobai isn't going to turn against an old man like me. I'll try to stall him a bit more. If that doesn't work, I'll just hide and make sure he can't find me."

"Thank you, Grandpa." Chen Hao's voice carried a hint of guilt. "I'm sorry to have troubled you with my affairs."

"No need to thank me, we're family." Lin Sinian's tone softened, tinged with a hint of doting.

"You are Sisi's father, your affairs are my affairs. If I don't help you, who will? Besides, I also admire your talent and don't want these things to affect your creative work."

He paused, then his tone became serious again, as if he had suddenly remembered something:

"By the way, Chen Hao, there's something I've been wanting to ask you for a long time. I've had the chance today, so I'll ask you now."

"Please speak."

"I hung the three paintings you gave me before, 'Autumn Wind in Ten Thousand Valleys,' 'Pine and Crane for Longevity,' and 'Sea of ​​Clouds and Pine Waves,' on the wall of my living room. I look at them every day, and the more I look at them, the more different they seem, and the more amazed I become."

Lin Sinian's voice carried a hint of admiration, but also a hint of doubt.

"These three paintings were painted in close succession, only a month or two apart, but your painting skills have improved dramatically, like a rocket has been launched, with each level reaching new heights."

Especially that painting, "Sea of ​​Clouds and Pine Waves," although it was a small piece you painted on the spot, the freedom of your brushwork and the fluidity of your lines...

Furthermore, the depth of its artistic conception is significantly superior to the previous two paintings, and even surpasses the work of some veteran painters who have been painting for decades.

He paused, his tone filled with even greater doubt:

"Chen Hao, tell me honestly, do you have some secret to drawing? Otherwise, how could you improve so quickly?"

Which of the painters I know didn't spend decades painting before gradually developing their own style and improving their skills?

But no one has made such great progress as you in just a few months.

Chen Hao smiled, a faint smile curving his lips, a hint of helplessness in his eyes.

The secret?

Yes, of course.

The system was the secret to his progress.

Each time you draw and complete a task, you gain experience points, which improve your drawing skills. From having a weak foundation at the beginning to having excellent skills now, it's all thanks to the system.

But he couldn't reveal this secret, not to Lin Sinian, not to Lin Caiwei, and not even to Sisi.

This secret is too bizarre and unbelievable. If I tell it, probably no one will believe me, and it will only bring me more trouble.

"There's no secret," he said softly, his tone calm. "It's just about drawing a lot and practicing a lot."

I paint whenever I have free time, whether it's morning, noon, or night. Whenever I have time, I sit at my easel and paint.

After finishing the drawing, I carefully studied it to see where it was not drawn well, where the lines were not smooth enough, and where the artistic conception was not quite right. I tried my best to improve it next time I drew.

The more you draw and practice, the more you'll improve.