Chapter Twenty Seven

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"Are you going or not? Don't stand in the way here, can you?"

Accompanied by the dissatisfied accusations from the passers-by, Gao Yuan was taken aback for a moment, and then recovered from the short animation in front of him. He hurriedly apologized, and stepped aside to let the crowd behind him pass, while he waited. In the same place, for a while, he was inexplicably unwilling to leave.

He looked at the short animation that was playing repeatedly on the LCD screen on the wall.

"When I was six years old, after seeing an illustration of a boa constrictor devouring a beast, I also drew my first picture with colored pencils - a boa constrictor digesting an elephant in its stomach, and proudly showed it to adults Let's see, and ask if my pictures frighten them."

On the screen, the center of the dark brown giant snake bulges upwards. It really doesn't look like a snake digesting an elephant, but rather an irregular hat.

So the grown-ups said, "What's so terrible about a hat?"

"In order for grown-ups to understand, I had no choice but to draw the elephant inside the boa constrictor. I think they should understand that what I drew is a boa constrictor digesting an elephant, not a hat?"

But the adults said: "Don't draw these pictures of boa constrictors with their bellies open or avoiding them. If you want energy, you should spend your time on meaningful things like geography, history, and mathematics."

The villain on the screen shook his head and sighed: "Afterwards, I stopped painting, and I no longer regarded the beautiful ambition of being a painter as a dream. The failure of the first painting made me very discouraged. Adults don't understand anything. I have to keep explaining to them all the time, it's tiring."

Perhaps the plot in the short animation is so touching that Gao Yuan can’t help but think of himself when he was a teenager—the same love of painting, sometimes it’s really itchy, and he would risk being caught, boldly writing in Chinese textbooks Painting and drawing, adding a beard to the celebrity in the book, and changing the look are commonplace.

When he was younger, he would also draw all kinds of weird things, like black roses, grass that looked like bugs...

Most of the time, he couldn't get compliments from the adults, but he corrected him sternly: roses should be red, why are there black roses? How could there be such a strange-looking grass in the forest? What you drew is obviously a fluffy bug.

Later, when I grew up and became addicted to painting again, my parents were no longer as indulgent as they were when they were young:

"How old are you? Why are you still not doing your job and indulging in these cartoons all day long? Children will like these things. When will you mature?"

"You want to paint for fun occasionally, I have no problem, but you have to put your mind on the right path, can painting be eaten?"

"Others can make painting a profession, that is because they have talent, but can you do it? You couldn't even draw a rose when you were a child, and you still want to make a living by painting in the future? How is this possible?"

Hearing so many words like this, even Gao Yuan himself could not help but doubt himself.

He thought maybe his parents were right, his talent was not enough for him to make a living from painting, so he gave up painting, which he had loved for a long time, and turned to study finance, a major that satisfied his parents. After graduation, he succeeded I joined a securities company and lived a regular and stable life.

Only very rarely would he occasionally think of the dream about painting when he was young, think of the blooming black roses, and the grass like fluffy bugs.

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