"It's not a watermelon, what else could it be but a winter melon?" Liu Yifeng said with a smile. "But I'll have to trouble you to carry the vegetables inside for me, I'll move the watermelons!"
Although he was shocked by such a large watermelon, the housekeeper was a woman of the world and quickly regained her composure, helping Liu Yifeng carry things.
The person sitting on the living room sofa grew impatient, as Liu Yifeng hadn't brought his son yet. Just as he reached the entrance, he saw his housekeeper struggling to carry a snakeskin bag of things, and Liu Yifeng carrying a watermelon as long as his upper body.
"Young Liu, what is this?" he asked, pointing at the watermelon.
Liu Yifeng gently placed the watermelon on the ground and said, "Old Zhao, these are all watermelons and vegetables I grew. I specifically brought them for you to try. There are more on the car, I'll go get them."
Upon hearing that such a large watermelon was grown by Liu Yifeng, Zhao Dewang found it hard to believe. Growing watermelons wasn't difficult, but growing such a large one was certainly no easy feat. However, his gaze soon fell on the adorable Tongtong. The child looked fair and clean, especially well-behaved, with eyes revealing a maturity and sharpness beyond his years.
Tongtong looked at the old man with white hair and guessed this must be Grandpa Zhao that Dad mentioned. He politely greeted him, "Hello, Grandpa Zhao. My name is Liu Tongtong, and I am my dad's biological son!"
Zhao Dewang was amused by Tongtong's self-introduction and couldn't help but laugh, "Hello, Tongtong. How did you know I'm Grandpa Zhao?"
"Because Dad just called you Mr. Zhao, and Dad brought me here to thank Grandpa Zhao. Since you are the only old gentleman here, I guessed you are the person Dad wants to thank!" Tongtong explained clearly.
"Tongtong is so clever!" Looking at how young Tongtong was, yet able to communicate normally with adults, his intellect was clearly extraordinary. Most importantly, in the child's eyes, he saw only purity and innocence. Zhao Dewang genuinely liked the child.
At this moment, Liu Yifeng and the housekeeper had placed the items from the trunk in the living room. Seeing Liu Yifeng sweating profusely, Zhao Dewang immediately told him to sit on the sofa and turned on the air conditioning.
"Young Liu, you didn't have to bring so much. It's not easy for you to grow vegetables and fruits. Please take them back later. Your intention is enough!" Zhao Dewang said.
"There's no reason to take back something that has been given. Besides, my little contribution is nothing compared to your daughter waiving my son's tuition fees," Liu Yifeng said, holding Tongtong's hand, his expression full of gratitude.
Speaking of tuition fees, Zhao Dewang immediately steered the conversation toward Tongtong, "I heard from my daughter that your son is highly intelligent. Not only is he good at arithmetic, but his painting skills are also top-notch. Today, I have the rare opportunity to see your son. May I have the honor of witnessing him paint?"
Liu Yifeng did not speak but looked at Tongtong. If Tongtong was willing, he had no objections. But if Tongtong was unwilling, he wouldn't force him. Tongtong didn't want to make Dad difficult and immediately nodded in agreement, "Grandpa Zhao, what do you want me to paint?"
Zhao Dewang wanted to see Tongtong paint something different this time. His eyes scanned the room and finally settled on the painting of a bamboo forest hanging on the living room wall. This was a genuine Zheng Banqiao he had collected at a high price from elsewhere. He had tried to imitate it himself, but it always lacked something. Either the painting lacked soul, or it was too deliberate, clearly an imitation for the sake of imitation. Of course, ordinary people couldn't see these subtle differences; only experienced old painters could. Today, he wanted to see what kind of different feeling a child under four years old would have when painting this. However, he wasn't entirely sure if Tongtong could paint it, as this was a famous painter's work, and ordinary people couldn't imitate it, let alone Tongtong being so young. He had already planned that if Tongtong said he couldn't, he would let Tongtong paint freely.
Who knew that Tongtong merely glanced at the painting and immediately said he could, without any sign of difficulty, as if the painting were a piece of cake for him. So, he couldn't help but remind him, "Tongtong, this painting was done by the ancient master Zheng Banqiao. The difficulty level is not ordinary. Are you sure you can paint it well?"
Tongtong looked at Zhao Dewang with his innocent big eyes, "Grandpa Zhao, you are so strange. You asked me to paint this, and now you want me to back down. Are you going to let me paint or not?"
Zhao Dewang: "..." He was rendered speechless by a toddler.
"Old Zhao, please don't be angry. My son doesn't mean anything else. He just says what he thinks. Since he said he can paint, please let him try!" Liu Yifeng still believed in his son. It wasn't just Zheng Banqiao's paintings, but even Tang Bohu's, his son could paint them.
Zhao Dewang naturally wouldn't bicker with a child. Seeing his nonchalant attitude, he really wanted to see how Tongtong would paint. So, he led them to his study, where his calligraphy and landscape paintings were hung. Although his paintings were also very good, he was the former president of the Calligraphy Association, which was enough to show that his calligraphy was superior to his painting.
"Tongtong, you can paint on this desk. Grandpa Zhao has all the painting brushes in his study. Whatever you want to paint with, just use it!" he said with a smile.
Tongtong spread a blank piece of paper on the desk, recalling the series of the painting. After connecting all the series, he picked up an ink brush and began to paint on the paper with grandiosity. Zheng Banqiao's bamboo painting only used an ink brush, without any other colors, but its brilliance was no less than those with colors. Zhao Dewang stood behind Tongtong and could tell from the child's grip on the brush that he was no ordinary child. He did not disturb Tongtong, merely watching him paint.
Initially, Tongtong's strokes were somewhat messy, not looking like bamboo at all. It was only when he added a few finishing touches that a vivid bamboo painting appeared before his eyes. He was so shocked that he couldn't speak. Not to mention that the painting was identical to Zheng Banqiao's, it was simply a perfect replica. The painting in the living room had hung in his home for over ten years, and he remembered every detail of it clearly. Tongtong's painting corresponded to every detail in his painting. If the ink hadn't dried yet, it would be impossible to distinguish the real from the fake. But how could Tongtong, after only looking at the painting a few times, reproduce it so perfectly in such a short period?
"Mr. Zhao, are you satisfied with my son's painting?" Liu Yifeng asked. He was long accustomed to his son's heaven-defying abilities. If Tongtong couldn't paint it, that would be the strange thing.
Zhao Dewang snapped back to reality, his face showing a mixture of excitement and joy. "Satisfied? More than satisfied, I'm extremely satisfied! Young Liu, your son is a treasure! At such a young age, he possesses such incredible talent. If properly nurtured, he will surely become a leading figure in the next generation of painters."
Hearing Old Zhao's high praise, Liu Yifeng was very happy. After all, the one praising his son was an influential figure in both the calligraphy and painting circles. This was far more valuable than the praise from ordinary people.
"Tongtong, can you tell me who taught you to paint?" Tongtong's artistic attainments at such a young age were so high that there must have been a master guiding him from behind.
Tongtong tilted his head and said seriously, "An old grandpa taught me too. But he went to wander the world, and Tongtong hasn't seen him for a long time."
Old grandpa? Zhao Dewang thought carefully. Which older painters were there? He knew more than a dozen himself, all of whom had achieved outstanding accomplishments in the field of painting. But he hadn't heard of any of them teaching such a young apprentice, and they were all in their respective cities, not wandering the world. So, who could this person be?
Could it be? Suddenly, he thought of someone, and Zhao Dewang's emotions began to stir uncontrollably.