Chapter 11 Your Father's Grave Exploded
The passerby said jealously: "If you don't agree, I will bring my grandson to become your disciple!"
Others would try their best to meet these two masters of calligraphy.
It is really unbelievable that this young girl had no reaction to Master Meng Rushong's personal invitation.
It makes people envious and jealous!
Seeing that Jiang Ci was indifferent, Old Song narrowed his eyes and asked suspiciously: "The words on the cardboard were not written by you?"
"I wrote it, but today I am only telling fortunes." Jiang Ci said calmly, "Who among you wants to have a fortune told?"
"Girl, maybe you don't know much about the Calligraphy Association. Let me give you one of my business cards and you can come to me anytime." Mr. Meng took out his business card.
Jiang Ci didn't answer it, but just glanced at him through his sunglasses.
After not seeing each other for many years, the little kid with snot hanging from his nose has become so old now.
Time really spares no one~
"Meng, it seems that people are not interested in your calligraphy association. Forget it. We still have to go to the cultural center. Let's go."
Mr. Song patted Mr. Meng.
Mr. Meng looked at the words on the cardboard reluctantly and asked her:
"I have one last question for you. Who taught you this beautiful calligraphy?"
His works are all unsurpassed treasures handed down from generation to generation, and are now collected in the largest museums and art galleries in China.
Few people in the world can imitate her brushwork and ink style.
Even if someone could imitate her, they wouldn't be even one percent as good as her.
The handwriting of this girl has quite a bit of her calligraphy charm.
Mr. Meng couldn't help but think of the man with countless disciples.
Maybe this girl got the inheritance from one of her disciples and was able to copy that exquisite three-dimensional portrait.
He hadn't seen anyone or anything related to her for many years.
He was eager to know some news about that person, even if it was only partial.
Jiang Ci ignored him and turned to look at Old Song. "It's fate that we met today. How about I give you a fortune?"
Mr. Meng stared at his old friend with a dark look.
As if blaming him for cutting in.
Old Song said unhappily, "I never believe in these superstitious things."
"Girl, let me take the blame. I'm lucky, so you can count it however you want!" Old Meng pushed Old Song away and approached Jiang Ci enthusiastically.
Jiang Ci held his forehead and said, "You suffered many disasters in your childhood, but you met a noble person when you were young, gained fame and fortune in your youth, and were happy in your old age. What's there to worry about?"
"Oh my, your calculations are so accurate! Can you calculate whether I will meet that noble person in my later years?" Old Meng's face was full of anticipation.
Mr. Song disagreed: "Your deeds can be found on the Internet, just listen to this girl cheating you out of your pension!"
Jiang Ci: "Far away in the horizon, yet close at hand, we will meet if we are destined to do so."
"Far away yet so close? Could it be that she has finally come out of seclusion and is also in the Jiangbei area?"
Mr. Meng was very excited.
There were actually some tears in the eyes of this old man who was over seventy years old.
"Old Song, I thought I would never see her again, but I didn't expect that I, Meng Rushong, would see her one day before I die!"
Jiang Ci also looked at Old Song and said calmly, "Your father is destined to have a disaster. If you don't handle it well, your family will be in turmoil and your son will die before you."
When Mr. Song heard this, he became angry and shouted with a livid face:
"Can you do some research before you commit fraud? My father has been dead for decades!"
"Old Meng, don't pay attention to her, she is a liar!"
Mr. Song forcibly pulled Meng Rushong away.
As soon as the two arrived at the entrance of the cultural center, Mr. Song received a call from his son.
"Dad, it's bad, grandpa's grave was just struck by lightning!"
Song Lao's brain buzzed, and he only grasped two key words:
Grandpa’s grave exploded.
Combined with what the liar just said, he was immediately furious.
He believed that she had hired someone to blow up her own father's grave and then framed him!
Old Song turned back angrily to settle the score with Jiang Ci.
Jiang Ci didn't leave either, she was still sitting there, but she had thrown the cardboard into the trash can.
"Oh my! What a waste! How can such good calligraphy be left here?"
Meng Rushong hurriedly picked up the cardboard, dusted it off, blew on it, and finally held it in his arms tenderly.
Old Song pointed at Jiang Ci angrily and said, "You were the one who arranged for someone to blow up my father's grave, right? What on earth do you want to do by doing this?"
Jiang Ci asked him in a light tone: "Oh, is it a disaster?"
She calculated that coming here today would yield some results, and when she saw the two old men, she knew that the problem was with the man named Song.
She could tell at a glance from Mr. Song's face that he would lose his father in his later years and there was a problem with the feng shui of his ancestral tomb. Most likely, something would happen to his father's grave.
Sure enough, it came true so quickly.
"What a bullshit calamity! It's just a conspiracy planned by you!"
Meng Rusong pulled him and said, "Old Song, calm down. She's a girl, don't swear!"
"She blew up my father's grave. How can I stay calm?"
Old Song was furious and said, "It turns out that the ancestral grave of your family was not blown up. It's easy for you to talk without any pain in your waist!"
Meng Rusong whispered: "I have been an orphan since I was a child, I don't know if it exploded..."
"Come on, follow me to the police station and turn yourself in!" Old Song stepped forward to grab her.
Jiang Ci said calmly, "How did the tomb explode?"
Mr. Song recalled what his son said on the phone. It seemed like he was struck by lightning?
"Thunder..."
Jiang Ci was even more indifferent: "So you think I can make God smash your father's grave?"
Well, she can really summon thunder.
But what happened to his father was not her doing, it was just an accident.
Mr. Song looked unhappy, and always felt that this female liar was too weird.
How could she know in advance that her father was in danger, and then her father's grave just happened to explode?
He really didn't believe it when she said it had nothing to do with her, but he couldn't find any evidence.
Meng Rusong held the cardboard and asked Jiang Ci: "Then what about the unrest in the family and the old sending off the young? Will it really come true?"
Jiang Ci: "If the feng shui of the ancestral tomb is bad, the descendants will also suffer bad luck, not to mention that it is your own father's tomb that was struck by lightning. The fortunes of the descendants will be ruined and the family will decline. In more serious cases, there will be no descendants in this generation."
Mr. Song looked extremely ugly.
He never believed in any nonsense like metaphysics.
But it's definitely not a good thing that my father's grave was struck by lightning.
"Meng, I'm going back first. I have to choose a location to relocate my father's grave in the next two days, so I don't have time to come to the cultural center."
Old Song didn't trust Jiang Ci at all and turned away.
Meng Rusong: "Little girl, don't be angry, my old friend has this kind of temper. Give me a contact number. If he can't handle it, I'll call you again, okay?"
Jiang Ci shook his head.
"No way." Meng Rushong's face was full of disappointment.
Why!
What a great seedling.
He really couldn't bear to let go.
Jiang Ci said confidently: "I don't have a cell phone."
Meng Rusong was immediately at a loss for words: "Are there still young people without cell phones these days?"
He paused, looking her up and down.
She was wearing a plain white dress and was thin, as if she was malnourished.
He wore large sunglasses that covered half of his face, but his cheeks, which were covered with stitches, could not be hidden under the sunglasses.
The scar looked extremely hideous.
Like a vivid centipede, it was twisted and coiled on her cheek, which looked unwell.
This miserable temperament is quite similar to what he looked like when he was young and was penniless.
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