"Aze! You are here! Run! Chengze! Stop daydreaming!"
Fang Zhiyi was jogging, with more than a dozen people chasing after him.
"You just ate without paying, and then beat up the person who tried to stop you. Now they're here to get revenge!"
Fang Zhiyi ran over.
Lin Chengze was dumbfounded. He never thought that Fang Zhiyi could run away so well and bring those people here again!
While he was stunned, the driver, Ah Fu, whipped him with his whip: "I was wondering why you were so disheveled, and you are such a person! Do you want me to report you to the police if you don't get out of here?"
The woman in the carriage fell silent. As the daughter of a minister, she had received a good education since childhood, so she naturally knew that the person outside was not a good person.
As those people got closer, Lin Chengze didn't care about anything else and ran away.
As he ran, he mentally resented Fang Zhiyi. Shengjing is so big, and you actually ran here? Not only did you run, but you also yelled out everything you just did? He also had a vague feeling that he had missed something.
After finally getting safe, Lin Chengze was exhausted, but soon he discovered that Fang Zhiyi was missing.
But then I thought, it’s better that Fang Zhiyi, that idiot, didn’t follow me. He almost got me killed today!
By this time, Fang Zhiyi had already wandered into a deep alley. He remembered that the original owner's intelligence network was spread throughout Shengjing, and almost everything, big or small, escaped his eyes and ears.
There lived an old scholar here. Although his family was poor, he was no ordinary man. He was friends with a retired censor.
Fang Zhiyi turned left and soon saw a small courtyard. The door of the courtyard was open. He looked inside and saw an old man with messy hair writing. Fang Zhiyi didn't hesitate to walk in and squatted beside to watch.
The old scholar didn't even look at him. He finished the whole article in one breath and then heaved a sigh of relief. He turned to look at Fang Zhiyi with a calm expression: "I don't have any money here, so I can't afford to hire servants."
Fang Zhiyi shook his head: "I just stumbled in here by mistake after getting lost. I saw the old man writing and wanted to learn from him."
This made the old scholar take a fresh look at the young man in front of him. He was dressed in rags and looked like he couldn't read. He frowned and asked, "Can you understand this?"
Fang Zhiyi nodded: "Not only can I understand it, but the old man's calligraphy...is just form without soul." He stood up, shook his head and walked out.
The old scholar was furious: "Stop! You said my handwriting is just a formality?"
Fang Zhiyi turned around and said, "Isn't it?" He knew very well that this old man would not be persuaded by anything and would only admire those who were more capable than him.
"Come on, come on, write if you can!" The old scholar spread out a new piece of paper and handed the pen to Fang Zhiyi.
Fang Zhiyi was not polite. Writing? When he was a powerful official and emperor, he would write when he had nothing to do! After all, he didn't have a mobile phone to play with.
With a few strokes of the brush, the writing was done in a flamboyant and graceful manner.
"Look, this is called running script. Let me show you regular script, and this one, artistic font."
The old scholar's mouth gradually opened wider.
That day Fang Zhiyi was warmly entertained by the old scholar, who even wanted to worship him as his teacher and learn that "artistic calligraphy".
Three days later, the old scholar recommended Fang Zhiyi to his old friend, Censor Sha, and Fang Zhiyi finally had a way to make a living by copying books for the retired censor.
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