Yu Qizhe stretched out his fair wrist, took out the ten large characters that Yu Jiao had practiced from her hand, and looked at them carefully one by one. His peach blossom eyes were focused and serious, and his long hair was scattered behind him.

Perhaps because the distance was too close, soft black hair fell from his shoulders and scratched Yu Jiao's cheek, causing an itch. Yu Jiao blinked her dark eyes, but resisted the urge to brush the hair off her cheek.

At such a close distance, she could even see the soft hairs on Yu Qizhe's face in the reflection of the light. His skin was delicate and fair, with almost invisible pores. His handsome profile was soft and moving in the dim candlelight, like a beautiful ancient painting.

"Why are you staring at my brother?" Yu Fuling's voice suddenly rang out.

Yu Jiao was startled and she shyly withdrew her gaze and stepped back a little. Her fair ears blushed and a hint of unnaturalness appeared on her usually quiet and calm face. Yu Jiao bit her lip and stammered in defense, "I... I was reading what I wrote. I wasn't staring at him..."

After saying this, Yu Jiao bit the tip of her tongue lightly. It was obvious that her words were an attempt to cover up something.

"You are lying! You are obviously staring at my brother in a daze!" Yu Fuling revealed sharply and bluntly.

However, Yu Qizhe, whose eyes were fixed on the rice paper, said "hmm" lazily.

This soft "hmm" seemed to hit Yu Jiao's heartbeat. Her breathing trembled slightly. She didn't know whether Yu Qizhe was responding to Yu Fuling or to her. Yu Jiao turned her dark eyes to the window, exhaled lightly, and said, "It's time to cook dinner."

Get up and leave.

Yu Qizhe opened his mouth and called her, "Although the handwriting is ugly, every stroke is very neat. You need to work harder."

Yu Jiao nodded and quickly left the room, her figure looking as if she was fleeing in panic. After leaving the east room, she covered her face with her hands in annoyance and muttered to herself, Yu Jiao, Yu Jiao, you have lived a lifetime after all, how can you be obsessed with an underage boy!

Yu Qizhe followed Yu Jiao's figure with the corner of his eye as she left. Seeing Yu Jiao's annoyed and embarrassed look outside the window, his peach blossom eyes sparkled with a hint of interest and a faint curve appeared at the corners of his lips.

Yu Fuling grabbed the rice paper that Yu Jiao had written on the table and took a look at it. She looked disdainful and said with some heartache, "She copied your handwriting and she can write so ugly. What a waste of rice paper!"

Yu Qizhe said nothing, raising his hand to tidy up the table that Yu Jiao had messed up. Yu Fuling continued to nag, "You usually don't want to use white rice paper. Meng Yujiao doesn't deserve such good paper for calligraphy. Little brother, you can't be so nice to her. That little girl is heartless. It's useless to be nice to her!"

A sheet of white rice paper costs two cents. In the past, Yu Ruhai was very generous in spending money on Yu Qizhe's pens, ink, paper and inkstone. But since Yu Qizhe's health declined, whether intentionally or unintentionally, the family has been short of money for him in this regard.

The jute paper and white rice paper that Yu Qizhe uses nowadays were all bought with the copper coins he earned from copying books and writing letters for others in his spare time.

Jute paper is very easy to be soaked in ink, so scholars would never use it to practice calligraphy. Ordinary people would buy it and cut it up to make toilet paper. Yu Qizhe's calligraphy was excellent, and his ink was applied just right. Even on jute paper, he could write beautiful characters without any smudging.

"Sister, as long as she stays in the Yu family, she will be a member of our second branch. Please don't say anything more." Yu Qizhe paused for a moment and said slowly.