"You're back."
Aunt Ji looked up and said, "Oh, you bought so much? Can you make it all?"
Instead of asking if he could finish the food, she asked if he could make it. This season, Auntie is really feeling sorry for Xiao Lu.
“There’s also my uncle, who looks like a superb cook,” Lu Yibei said.
After Lu Yibei took on the task of preparing the New Year's Eve dinner, Old Man Ji was also eager to try, seemingly wanting to compete with his daughter's boyfriend.
Unfortunately, his wife said:
"Alright, then let your Uncle Ji do it with you, that way it'll look like a family."
The passionate scene of "a cooking competition where the winner takes all, and brothers come and cook" was transformed into a family reunion of "Let's make dumplings together."
What can Uncle Ji do then?
The words have already been spoken. If you go back on your word... you have no idea how much damage a big slut can do to a middle-aged man.
Old Man Ji glanced at Lu Yibei, remaining silent.
Lu Yibei smiled at him, then followed Ji Qingqian to the kitchen.
It's getting late, but luckily it's just the family having dinner together tonight, so we don't have to be on time. It doesn't matter if we eat early or late.
However, Lu Yibei still put down all the ingredients and started washing the vegetables.
The kitchen is connected to the living room.
"What is Uncle Ji doing?" Lu Yibei asked.
Old Man Ji was picking up his pen, just about to reply.
He then thought it was a bit difficult to say—mainly because he had been speaking coldly to this brat yesterday, and if he suddenly became friendly today, it would make him feel like he was happy because of the brat's kind words yesterday.
That's a bit embarrassing.
—Although, in reality, what he said was indeed quite right.
But a man should be calm and composed, and should not show his emotions.
Seeing that he was holding back his words, Aunt Ji glared at him and then took over the conversation, answering Lu Yibei:
"When it comes to writing Spring Festival couplets, your Uncle Ji insists on writing them himself—that's just how your Uncle Ji is, he's only learned a little bit of calligraphy and he wants to show it off."
"What do you mean by 'just like that'...?"
Old Man Ji expressed his dissatisfaction in a low voice: "You make it sound like I'm going to embarrass myself."
While picking vegetables, Lu Yibei chatted with Aunt Ji:
"Then you should show off the skills you've learned. Otherwise, what's the point of learning them?"
Old Man Ji was very satisfied when he heard this.
He looked at his wife smugly and said, "Look how right the college student is."
Aunt Ji glared at him, but didn't say anything.
Lu Yibei put cabbage, tomatoes, and other vegetables under the tap water to wash them. The sound of the running water became the background music. He then said:
"When I'm at home, my grandparents always make me write these things..."
"Oh."
Old Man Ji finally spoke: "Little Lu, you can write?"
Aunt Ji: "What are you saying? You said yourself that he's a college student, how can he not know how to write?"
Old Man Ji hadn't figured out how to respond to his wife's sarcastic remarks.
Lu Yibei replied, "Uncle Ji is asking about calligraphy, right? I know a little bit."
"Yes, yes, I'm talking about calligraphy, but laymen don't understand it."
Old Man Ji said, "Then Xiao Lu, you come and try writing something too."
The middle-aged man thought he had finally gained the upper hand with his wife.
He didn't notice the faint smile on his wife's lips.
Lu Yibei glanced at Ji Qingqian.
Ji Qingqian took the half-washed vegetables from his hand, lowered her eyes and said, "Go ahead."
"become."
Lu Yibei dried his hands, took the calligraphy brush handed to him by Old Man Ji, and looked at it briefly: "Uncle, this brush of yours is quite good."
"This is a pen from Zhaxi," Old Man Ji said with some pride.
"You're such a show-off," Aunt Ji said with a laugh, lightly punching her husband's arm.
“Jiahe is very close to Zhaxi, and my dad likes the pens from there.” Lu Yibei smiled: “Nationally renowned—so I can just write whatever I want?”
Old Man Ji was somewhat surprised: "Your father also knows calligraphy?"
When asked about Lu Yibei's question, Ji's mother replied, "Just write anything—if you don't know what to write, Auntie can help you look it up online..."
Before she could finish speaking, Lu Yibei had already put pen to paper.
Since I can write whatever I want, I'll just write something.
Lu Yibei's brushstrokes are fluent, and his writing is completed in one go.
A line of text quickly appeared.
"The apricot blossoms are still red for miles."
Old Man Ji fell silent.
He looked at the line of words; the strokes were sharp, and every stroke revealed a great deal of skill.
Clearly, he is not a beginner.
He paused for a moment before slowly speaking:
"...No, Xiao Lu, you actually studied this?"
“I haven’t studied it systematically. My dad taught me. You can talk to him more in the future, Uncle.”
Old Man Ji originally did have this idea, but now it seems...
Well, it's probably best not to communicate.
He's not even as good as Xiao Lu, let alone the older one.
Old Man Ji then looked at Lu Yibei's handwriting.
—No, Xiao Lu… Huh? Is this reasonable??
Aunt Ji then asked:
What is the second line of the couplet?
"Spring grass turns green again this year." Lu Yibei smiled: "The horizontal scroll reads 'Spring is in full bloom and the scenery is bright'—it's a New Year's couplet."
Aunt Ji couldn't see much difference, but she thought the calligraphy was beautiful and the couplet was good, so she praised, "Little Lu has literary talent."
"Oh, please don't say that. It's all copied—I've forgotten where I saw it from," Lu Yibei quickly said.
Aunt Ji, however, refuted this with sound reasoning and evidence:
"A large part of literary talent comes from accumulation!"
Lu Yibei handed over the pen:
"Uncle, will you write the second line?"
Just as Old Man Ji was about to take the pen, he carefully examined the seven characters written by Lu Yibei.
Yes, yes, yes... No, no, no.
You can't write any more of this.
That's so embarrassing.
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