【答案解析】

Wang Mian Learns to Paint

From this time onwards, Wang Mian looked after old Qin"s buffalo; and every evening he went home to stay with his mother. Whenever the Qin family gave him salted fish or smoked meat, he would wrap it up in a lotus leaf and take it to his mother. He also saved the coppers he was given each day to buy a snack with, and every month or so would seize an opportunity to go to the village school to buy some old books from the book-vendor making his rounds. Every day, when he had tethered the buffalo, he would sit down beneath the willow and read.
So three or four years quickly passed. Wang Mian studied and began to see things clearly. One sultry day in early summer, tired after leading the buffalo to graze, he sat down on the grass. Suddenly dense clouds gathered, and there was a heavy shower of rain. Then the black storm clouds fringed with fleecy white drifted apart, and the sun shone through, bathing the whole lake in crimson light. The hills by the lake were blue, violet and emerald. The trees, freshly washed by the rain, were a lovelier green than ever. Crystal drops were dripping from a dozen lotus buds, while beads of water rolled about the leaves.
As Wang Mian watched, he thought, "The ancients said, "in a beautiful scene a man feels he is part of a picture." How true! What a pity there is no painter here to paint these sprays of lotus. That would be good." Then he reflected, "There"s nothing a man can"t learn. Why shouldn"t I paint them myself?"
When Wang Mian saw that it was growing late, he led the buffalo back. After that, Wang Mian no longer spent his savings on books, but asked someone to buy paints for him in town, and learnt to paint lotus flowers. At first he did not do too well, but after three months he succeeded in capturing the very essence and shades of colour of the lotus. Though he painted on paper, his flowers seemed to be growing in the water, or as if freshly plucked from the lake and placed on a scroll. When the villagers saw how well he painted, some even bought his pictures. And when Wang Mian had money, he bought good things for his mother.
One person told another, until the whole of Zhuji County knew that he was a famous flower painter, and people vied with each other in their eagerness to buy. By the time he was eighteen he had stopped working for old Qin, and spent every day doing some painting or reading old poems and essays. By degrees he no longer had to worry about his livelihood, and his mother was happy.
Wang Mian had genius. While still in his teens, he mastered the whole field of astronomy, geography, the classics and history. He was, however, eccentric. He did not look for an official post, and did not even have any friends. All day he studied behind closed doors.