"I don't believe there are such people in this world. You... write it for me now, or I'll beat you to death."
Qi Bai didn't want any of the ten strokes; he wanted Chen Feng to prove on the spot that he wasn't bragging.
Chen Feng was forced to take the plunge; he had to fulfill the boast he had made. Before writing, he even glanced at Li Qingning.
The latter felt uneasy under his gaze. "This guy, does he really want to marry me?"
She felt very strange.
"Give me the paper!"
"Give me a pen!"
Since they were going to do it, they had to make sure they bought the necessary supplies. Chen Feng started working as a servant for a group of old men, and the old men stopped getting angry.
Li Siye was the most diligent, with a chrysanthemum-like smile on his face.
Then, to everyone's near-petrification, various fonts—Song, Yan, Kai, Cao, Li, Xing, Hei, Fangsong—each with its own unique style, leaped off the paper, each one a priceless treasure.
Li Siye held more than a dozen calligraphy scrolls in his hands and almost burst into tears; he was too excited.
"I have seen countless geniuses, but this is the first time I have ever seen such a scoundrel."
Old Li looked at Chen Feng as if he were a monster, his eyes filled with disbelief.
"Boy, what kind of monster are you, that you possess divine powers? These... these characters are likely to stir up a huge storm in the Chinese calligraphy world. What face will those so-called calligraphy masters have left?"
Old Qi stared in utter shock at the varied styles of the calligraphy, which was both elegant and beautiful. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed that it was written by one person, let alone a 25-year-old.
"Can you guys stop focusing on the font? This is a poem, this is a five-character quatrain, this is a seven-character poem, this is a ci poem, oh my god."
"I...I'm not going to live today. It's like we're being rubbed into the ground."
The old men roughly pushed Li Siye aside and began studying the poems on the table.
"Old Yang, why aren't you calling Old Bai yet? He'll probably be ecstatic if he sees this poem."
Old Yang was taken aback, then recovered from his excitement. Yes, his good friend Bai Yizhong was the president of the Chinese Poetry Association. How could he have forgotten about this?
So he immediately took out his phone.
"Hello!"
"Old Yang, aren't you busy preparing for your art competition? Why do you have time to call me?"
The Poetry Association and Bai Yizhong are currently writing a poem; there's only the beginning on the desktop, so it seems progress isn't going very smoothly.
"Old Bai, I won't say any more to you. You need to come to my art association right away, the sooner the better. You'll regret it if you're even a minute late."
"Hey Lao Yang, we're all going to be buried already, can you stop making such a fuss? What do you mean I'd regret it?"
Bai Yizhong said casually.
Hearing the old man's casual tone on the phone, Old Yang was furious.
"You son of a bitch, I have some timeless phrases here, do you want some?"
Bai Yizhong listened to the phone call, paused for a long time, and then burst into laughter.
"Hey Lao Yang, you're an artist, what do you know about timeless terms? You're hilarious. Alright, hang up now, I'm busy."
"Fine, you're not coming, huh? You'll regret it later."
"Hey Lao Yang, what's gotten into you today...?"
"When will the moon be clear and bright? I raise my cup to ask the blue sky. I wonder what year it is tonight in the celestial palace?"
The voice that suddenly came from the phone was Old Yang's, but the content made Bai Yizhong feel as if he had been electrocuted, and he almost dropped the phone.
"This...this...Old Yang, where did you get this poem from?"
Is there anything else?
"Ah, is there anything else?"
There's no need to ponder it carefully; these four lines alone are enough to last for eternity. Who was the great master who wrote such a poem? Bai Yizhong was extremely eager.
"Old Yang, I was wrong, please tell me quickly."
"I called you over here and you didn't come. You son of a bitch, I have more than a dozen of these here."
"What? What did you say?"
Bai Juyi immediately overturned the table in front of him. There were more than a dozen poems like that! This...
Snap!
He hung up the phone immediately and quickly called the driver.
"Hurry to the Art Association, hurry, even if you have to speed me, get there as fast as you can."
Bai Juyi seemed to be going crazy; he desperately wanted to know the following words.
When will the bright moon appear? I raise my cup to ask the heavens.
What wonderful words! This is the best he has ever studied poetry in his entire life, without exception.
The members of the Poetry Association were surprised to see their president in such a hurry, and they wondered what had happened to make him so flustered.
The art association members each held a calligraphy copybook and began exchanging ideas. Li Siye felt a pang of heartache watching them. He was going to frame these characters and display them at the calligraphy association for ten thousand years. Now they were being casually admired by these old geezers. It was truly unpleasant.
"President, look at this five-character poem, it's absolutely amazing!"
Qi Baishi looked over.
Spring slumber is so sweet, I don't notice the dawn; everywhere I hear birds singing. Last night came the sound of wind and rain; I wonder how many flowers have fallen.
"Hmm, that's great! Look, my poem is also very evocative."
The bright moonlight shines before my bed, I wonder if it's frost on the ground. I raise my head to gaze at the bright moon, then lower my head and think of my hometown.
"My goodness, this seven-character poem is absolutely amazing!"
Everyone looked over.
"The moon of Qin and the pass of Han, the long march of ten thousand miles, the men have not returned."
If only the Flying General of Longcheng were here, the barbarian horses would never dare to cross the Yin Mountains.
"It's magnificent and imposing."
"Look, there's another poem here."
Last night, the rain was sparse and the wind was strong; even a deep sleep could not dispel the lingering effects of the
I asked the person rolling up the curtain, but they said the crabapple blossoms were still there.
Do you know, do you know? It should be "Green leaves and red flowers in full bloom".
"Did you write all of these? Were they written on the spot, or were they already written beforehand?"
Upon hearing Elder Zhang's question, everyone turned to look at Chen Feng, as this was also a question on their minds.
"Of course, I had it planned beforehand. Gentlemen, I'm not a god."
After another round of exclamations, Qi Baishi finally looked at Li Siye.
"Old dog Li, do you still stand by what you just said?"
"Words? What words?"
Li Siye was still in a state of extreme excitement, his eyes filled with beautiful calligraphy and paintings.
But when everyone looked at him with a half-smile, he paused for a moment, and then he understood.
Good heavens, he really does what he says. Li Siye took out his phone and immediately called his unfilial son.
A water town in southern China, a mountain village.
The village is picturesque, and each household has exquisite paintings on its walls, all painted by an old man. He is a true folk master.
At this moment, Li Jingchang is giving a fluent and eloquent speech to an old man from the countryside in front of a dilapidated thatched hut.
"Sir, please come with me, I'm begging you."
“Young man, I’ve already told you I’m not going. If I leave, there’ll be no one to feed the pig at home.”
The old man smoked his pipe, showing no interest in Li Jingchang's temptations.
“Grandpa, it’s just a pig. If you come with me, I guarantee you can sell one of your paintings for a hundred or a thousand pigs.”
"What's the use? I raised this pig from a cub, I'm attached to it. I'm not leaving, you should leave now, I need to cook."
The old man shook his pipe on the sole of his shoe and started chasing people away.
This young man is so annoying. He keeps telling me to go to the city to paint and make big money, but he's lost all his front teeth. How can he possibly make any money?
That's not the main problem. They've been eating and drinking here every day, and the only piece of cured meat they have has been completely devoured. This makes the old man very distressed, as it was originally meant for Widow Liu from the neighboring village.
Just as Li Jingchang was about to continue comforting the old man, the phone rang.
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