"Hello, Zhu Yourong."

Someone's voice suddenly broke the silence.

"Well, what is it?"

In front of the window, the woman turned her head.

"Well, actually I think... you shouldn't leave so early." Zhao Rong sighed and shook his head. "Wait until the Confucian Temple issues the jade ring along with the title of gentleman, and then you get it and leave, isn't that good?"

Zhu Yourong was stunned. She had been a good student since she was young, and she never thought of such a cunning idea at that time.

She thought about it and said, "This, this is not good."

Zhao Rong waved his hand and continued to impart the experience of "If you don't take advantage of an opportunity, you're a bastard."

"What's there to be embarrassed about? You look quite big... ahem, you look very young, a little girl, too shy. If it were me, I would be a good student for a few more days, and after I get the jade ring and the title of a gentleman known throughout the world, I can do whatever I want..."

He spoke a little too fast and let something slip in the first few sentences, but when faced with a glare from a certain woman in scholarly attire, he changed his tone as if nothing had happened, and then began to teach this once well-behaved girl in every sense of the word "naughty".

Zhu Yourong frowned and thought for a moment, then shook his head gently, "Ziyu, I... don't want to owe them too much."

"Why."

Zhao Rong sighed softly, put down his brush, reached out and snatched the reading notes that he had written all night last night from Zhu Yourong's hand.

Curled into a column, it knocked on her little forehead.

"How stupid... Stupid, let me tell you, this matter may really be because you revealed your cards too early, the timing is not right, Zhu Yourong, think about it..."

He paused for a moment, then said seriously:

"When you receive the jade ring, your reputation as a gentleman will be widely known and spread throughout the mountains. Then, you will quit your job, abandon everything in Confucianism, and go traveling and writing. What do you think the reaction of those old men in the Confucian Temple will be? Well, of course, they will feel as uncomfortable as if they had eaten a fly, but they can only accept it with a pinch of their noses. Are they going to rush over and catch you with a glare?"

Zhao Rong raised his hand again and tapped the head of the spendthrift woman in front of him who left without saying goodbye, and shook his head speechlessly.

"First, you didn't commit treason or betray the Confucian school. You just took a narrow path. Second, you didn't steal, rob, or cheat. It's just that... you suddenly became willful and didn't want to do it anymore. There's nothing they can do about you. At most, they can scold you in private, saying that you are an unteachable little girl."

"Besides, maybe it's because it's an established fact that you are a gentleman, and a rare female gentleman. You are a role model that is promoted to show that our Confucianism teaches everyone, and women can also learn Confucianism. Therefore, in order to avoid some kind of inconsistency..."

Zhu Yourong had been listening quietly. At this moment, she glanced at Zhao Rong.

Under his gaze, I nodded slightly.

Zhao Rong twitched his lips and said speechlessly:

"Maybe they will just acquiesce, or even speak for you, saying that they are just like the most holy teacher, and will go even if there are thousands of people. Then, they will be the most typical example, and you can do whatever you want... But now it's different."

He glanced around the quiet study and said sincerely, "Zhu Yourong, you are so stupid."

Zhao Rong couldn't hold back his hands. If his Qingjun and Xiaoxiao dared to do this, he would not only hit them on the head with the papers...

Zhu Yourong did not try to dodge Zhao Rong's outstretched hand, and received two hits on her clean forehead.

At this moment, she glanced slightly with her bright eyes, raised her head slightly, and looked at Zhao Rong carefully.

There was no sign of annoyance on her quiet and elegant face despite his somewhat long-winded words.

Zhu Yourong listened quietly, looked at him quietly, and when he fell silent, she spoke quietly.

"Well, it seems a pity indeed."

But despite saying this, she looked calm.

When Zhao Rong saw this scene, he was immediately furious.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was suddenly interrupted by the woman in Confucian clothes in front of him.

“…If only I could have met Tzuyu earlier.”

Zhu Yourong's voice seemed to rise in tone, and she stared at Zhao Rong without blinking, with an expression that seemed to be a bit... flattering?

Zhao Rong glanced at her a few times and swallowed the words on his lips.

Zhu Yourong stared at him with a serious look in her eyes, and said, "Actually, I don't want to be under those gazes at all. It's pretty good now, isn't it? And I also met Tzuyu."

"Moreover, even though it's something I don't like, I have to endure doing it for some benefits."

She shook her head. "I don't want it."

Zhao Rong raised his eyebrows. If that was the case, then he would understand the feelings of the woman in front of him.

Because I feel involved, and because of the fear of being dominated by calligraphy class...

"If that's the case, then I understand you very well."

Zhao Rong nodded vigorously.

Zhu Yourong blinked at him

The two of them looked at each other.

Not in the words.

Soon, Zhao Rong and Zhu Yourong returned to the table and started their "calligraphy class" again.

"Zhu Yourong, come closer, I will talk to you, please pay attention to my writing style later."

Zhao Rong was ready and said to Zhu Yourong.

The latter nodded slightly and stepped forward.

The conversation between the two of them just now seemed to have brought them closer, so Zhu Yourong was no longer too restrained.

Zhao Rong didn't hide anything and just got close to her, concentrating on writing and paper.

Just a breath away, you can smell each other's breath.

Zhao Rong explained the words that Zhu Yourong had just asked about, breaking them down carefully and explaining them in detail.

The latter nodded from time to time, and if there was any doubt in his eyes, he would point it out.

Finally, the previous questions have been explained.

There was silence between the two of them. Zhao Rong said without raising his eyelids:

"Zhu Yourong, I know you are very interested in the other font I write, but since you have been writing regular script before, I will teach you how to write regular script first."

"Um."

"Look at this word."

Zhao Rong suddenly started to draw smoothly on the paper. For the last stroke, he moved his wrist to the right and drew it in a free and easy stroke like clouds rolling and unrolling.

There are five strokes in total, making up one word on the flower curtain paper.

Zhu Yourong tilted his head and looked curiously.

"This is...Yong?"

Zhao Rong put down the brush and wiped his hands with a silk towel. Hearing this, he did not say anything, but tilted his head and looked at her.

Zhu Yourong looked at the words on the paper, her brows slightly furrowed, and she became quiet.

Zhao Rong remained silent.

Sudden.

“Huh.”

She stared at the word "Yong", exclaimed in surprise, and looked up at Zhao Rong.

The latter nodded slightly.

Zhu Yourong smiled brilliantly.

She stretched out her bare hand and placed her index finger over the word "Yong" which had not yet dried. She stroked it carefully and lightly.

The corners of her eyes curved, filled with joy and interest.

Murmuring softly, "Horizontal and vertical strokes, dots, left and right strokes... the secret of regular script strokes and the structure of characters are all in this small character '永'..."

Zhu Yourong suddenly looked up, "Ziyu, this is a great writing technique!"

Zhao Rong had a calm expression, looking down at the paper. He did not respond to her words, but just brushed them off. He raised his chin and pointed at the paper, saying:

"I learned it in that dream. The eight principles of regular script are all in this character. You can write it when you have nothing to do. As long as you work hard to write it well, it should be able to solve the systemic problem I mentioned before. Practice well."

No matter how good the brushstrokes are, they are just methods. The most important thing in calligraphy is diligent practice, which is the foundation of everything.

"Um!"

Zhu Yourong nodded vigorously, her starry eyes gazing at Zhao Rong, admiration flowing in her eyes.

Zhao Rong didn't care. Instead, he looked at the words and thought for a while. Then he leaned over the desk and asked her to come closer to take a closer look. He demonstrated to Zhu Yourong how to write the word "Yong".

It was an autumn morning when the days seemed to pass slowly, in the secluded Yilanxuan.

Lan Xuan's study was quiet. In front of the desk, a man and a woman were sitting very close to each other, with half of their bodies folded together. The early sun coming in from the west window slanted over them, adding a touch of warmth to the deserted room.

The two of them, all looking at the brush in the man's hand, were watching the trajectory of the writing.

Zhao Rong bent over, holding the pen with his wrist, keeping himself steady. Seeing that Zhu Yourong remained silent, he demonstrated the 'Eight Methods of Writing the Character Yong' over and over again.

Outside the window, another full autumn breeze blew into the house, caressing the oval face of the serious-looking woman in Confucian clothes.

A few strands of black hair were also blown up.

Zhu Yourong was facing Zhao Rong with her side face. She raised her jade hand and tucked her naughty black hair behind her ear.

At some point.

Zhu Yourong's eyes suddenly glanced to the right, and in the corner of her eye, she saw that the man next to her seemed to be still concentrating on writing and did not notice her.

The woman was distracted for a moment, and she couldn't help but glance sideways again, secretly looking at him without turning her head, and this time she didn't look away immediately.

In the field of vision.

In the sunlight, the thin face of the man beside me was filled with concentration, his thin lips were tightly pursed, and his bright eyes reflected the elegant words on the table. His slender right hand holding the pen, his knuckles were white from being pinched, and it was clear that he was writing deeply...

Because of the close distance, Zhu Yourong, who had sensitive five senses, had already smelled the masculine scent on him.

She wrinkled her nose and sniffed quietly, smelling the mixed fragrance of old books, wooden pens and graphite. Zhu Yourong was familiar with these. In addition, there was also a bit of the pleasant smell of the early morning.

She didn't know what it was exactly, but she just felt that it was the smell of early morning.

Just like the man with the surname Zhao and the name Ziyu, the gentle eyes he often showed were just like the sunlight shining on them at four o'clock in the morning.

It smells like him.

It seemed that Zhao Rong didn't notice.

The woman in scholar's robe became bolder and tilted her head to look at the guy next to her, who looked a little more mature when she hit him on the head like a younger brother teaching her how to write.

Looking at Zhao Rong's profile, Zhu Yourong suddenly felt that when he was concentrating on writing, he was very close, but when he was talking and looking at her, he seemed distant.

Just the next second, his words that were "very close" suddenly came from "very far away".

"Hey Zhu Yourong, you're pressing on me."

Zhu Yourong: "..."

At this moment, because the two of them unknowingly got too close to each other, or were distracted or focused, they didn't pay attention before, and as a result... someone's left forearm that was pressing on the paper bore a heavy pressure that it shouldn't have borne, like a mountain pressing down on its head, two times.

The next moment.

As if there is a tacit understanding.

The woman in Confucian robes coughed lightly, stood up, straightened her back, and turned her face away.

The young scholar moved his left hand, rolled up his right sleeve again, and continued writing.

So we separated.

The atmosphere was a bit awkward.

Zhao Rong stopped moving his hands, pondered for a moment, then raised his head and opened his mouth.

Dongdong——

At this moment, there was a knock on the door.

The awkward atmosphere suddenly disappeared. Zhao Rong and Zhu Yourong just looked at each other, but in an instant, suddenly, there was a creaking sound, and the door of Lanxuan's study was pushed open from the outside, and a figure was outside the door.

Less than two breaths after the knocking stopped, the man pushed the door open without waiting for a response.

The two people in the study were startled and turned to look.

I saw a prim and proper woman standing outside the door and bowing.

"Good morning, teacher. Good morning, brother Zhao..."

Yu Huaijin looked at the two people in the room with a serious expression.

Behind her, a little head suddenly popped up. It was wearing a crooked page boy's hat and had black eyes. It looked like a little fox as it stared into the room, its eyes suspiciously fixed on Zhao Rong and her teacher.

Yu Huaijin walked into the door with an expressionless face.

…

About a quarter of an hour later, Zhao Rong left Yilanxuan with a whiff of orchid fragrance on his clothes.

Just after Yu Huaijin's sudden arrival, the atmosphere in the study returned to normal.

Also became serious.

Zhao Rong demonstrated the word "永" to Zhu Yourong a few more times.

His eyes hinted at something.

Then, with Yu Huaijin and Jingzi watching, Zhu Yourong made a cup of delicious hot orchid tea for Zhao Rong.

He drank it all in one gulp, completing the purpose of his trip. Then he glanced at Yu Huaijin who was standing beside him and had been staring at him, secretly glancing at his quiet posture as if he was guarding against a thief. He shrugged slightly and took his leave.

Outside Yilanxuan, on a quiet and elegant corridor, Zhao Rong was walking with a scroll in his hand. At some point, as if he thought of something, he suddenly laughed and shook his head.

Zhao Rong went to Linlu Mountain and walked up along the winding corridor. In front of the nine-story dangerous building on the top of the mountain, he handed the book "Nankang Unofficial History" along with a stack of paper manuscripts of his reading experience to a manager outside the library.

While the manager was flipping through the thick manuscript with a surprised look on his face, Zhao Rong went outside the building and took out a book that had not yet been brought in.

Then.

He rolled up his sleeves, carried the new book and the newly acquired token to enter the building, and returned to Dongli Cottage.