Mafia Don And His 7 Sisters by Bryson Salazar

Chapter 496 The fake Master of Clouds

In the state of Georgia.

In a certain village in a small southern town.

After the worship, Alice’s eyes were still a little red and swollen.

More than 20 years had passed, and it was not easy to find her hometown.

Fortunately, the old village head of this remote mountain village had a kind heart. He had been helping to clean the

ancestral hall all these years, otherwise, this place would have turned into a wasteland long ago.

It was the old village head who helped her set the memorial tablet.

After the worship, Alice went to thank the old village head for a while. Then the two of them set foot on the way

back to the State of New York.

When they passed by a small town, they suddenly heard a noise. After asking, they knew that it was Master of

Clouds who had appeared in this small town and painted for everyone on the spot.

Master of Clouds was a well-known figure in the painting and calligraphy world.

His appearance naturally caused a commotion.

Alice clenched her fists and snorted, “What a great Master of Clouds. I’d like to see who he is!”

She had just finished worshiping her parents and was extremely depressed. She didn’t expect that she would run

into a fake Master of Clouds. She had to catch him to vent her anger.

Alice knew that John was the Master of Clouds, so the so-called Master of Clouds was undoubtedly a fake.

John caught the hot-tempered girl and said with a smile, “Let’s go and have a look first!”

He wore a black peaked cap to cover the shiny bald head, and a pair of sunglasses and mask on his face, which

perfectly concealed his identity.

This was a public figure’s trouble.

It would be troublesome if he was recognized as the King of Horizon.

John really missed the days when he swaggered along the busy streets in the past, but no one knew that he was the

King of Horizon. He could act like a hoodlum as he wanted.

He couldn’t do it now.

How could a dignified the King of Horizon act like a hooligan?

No way!

The two of them followed the crowd to a painting stall. In the middle of the stall sat a slovenly man.

He was about forty or fifty years old.

His hair was in a mess.

His beard was covered with stubble, and his hair was connected to his temples.

If there was a broken bowl in front of him, it would not be strange to say that he was a beggar on the street

But in front of him was not a broken bowl, but a painting stall.

This was amazing.

His slovenly appearance was not sloppy, it was personality, bohemian, and a proper artistic atmosphere.

On the contrary, it was more convincing that he was the Master of Clouds.

Behind the slovenly man stood a row of men and women respectfully.

One of the men walked out and said, “Everyone, don’t be surprised. Our Master of Clouds has always been so

unique”

He explained the hairstyle of the slovenly man.

The onlookers cheered and praised.

Artists were artists, and their realms were high. They didn’t stick to their appearances for a long time.

They pursued a higher level of thought.

They should be admired!

Hearing the praise of the people around him, the man with short spiky hair showed a satisfied smile and continued,

“This time, when our Master of Clouds came to the state of Georgia to pick up the painting, he was suddenly in high

spirits and his creation was full of criticism, so he decided to give you a lot of benefits and painted two paintings on

the spot.”

As soon as the man with short spiky hair finished speaking, the crowd immediately cheered.

The man was quite satisfied. He bent down and respectfully asked the slovenly man, “Master, shall we start

now?”

The slovenly man didn’t say anything but nodded slightly

So, the man with short spiky hair said to the men and women behind him, “The master said he wanted to

paint now. Unfold the paper.”

“Yes, sir!”

Several people worked together to tear apart a pale picture scroll that was 5 feet high and nearly 10 feet long,

keeping the surface of the scroll flat.

The man with short hair handed the brush to the sloppy man and said, “Master, please!”

“No need.”

However, the slovenly man pushed the brush away and gulped down a mouthful of spirits. Then he suddenly

stood up and directly infused his palm into the ink soup

He turned around and looked at the huge pale scroll.

He held his breath and concentrated.

It was so magnificent.

Then

“Whoa!”

The slovenly man suddenly let out a loud roar, which lifted everyone’s spirit in the surroundings in an instant, and

he himself seemed to have been injected with a stimulant suddenly.

He went crazy in an instant.

He used his hand to touch the ink and quickly jumped on the pale scroll.

After a while.

The slovenly man stopped and shouted, “Over!”

The madness disappeared in an instant.

The slovenly man sat back in the middle of the painting stall, looking indifferent. He didn’t even look up at the

surrounding crowd.

However

The onlookers were all stunned.

It was not because the sloppy man was good at painting, but because they couldn’t understand his ‘masterpiece’ at

all!

In other words, even if a child went there and got wet, the shape he drew was better than his

It was called the scrawly handwriting!

‘Is he really the Master of Clouds?”

Everyone couldn’t help but doubt.

At this time, the man with short spiky hair said again. He smiled unfathomably and said, “Everyone, I know you are

all confused now, but it doesn’t matter. I will explain to you.”

“In fact, our Master of Clouds has been trying new styles of painting. This painting in front of us is a new style of

painting that he has recently comprehended.”

“We all know that the work of the Master of Clouds pays more attention to the intent realm than the shape. This

work is the extension of the master’s consciousness stream, directly removing the ‘shape’, leaving only

the ‘intent’ in it. It is a higher level of painting.”

The man explained.

The onlookers around looked at each other.

Of course, they all knew that the Master of Clouds had chosen the style of consciousness, but this consciousness

was too much, right?

‘You can ask him yourself. Can he understand what he is drawing?”

‘Even if I carry a pig over, it can still draw like this.”

‘Don’t you see us as idiots? The onlookers thought to themselves.