Chapter 16 Water Dragon Chant (VI) Lying.
Wen Kong lowered his eyes and saw the ink blob on her brush. His voice was as cold as frost, "This character will be punished by being repeated ten times."
Ye Mu was stunned. "They're already imposing a penalty? That's completely unreasonable."
She gritted her teeth angrily, "Then I have to find out clearly, is this the bowl you usually use? What if I accidentally break the alms you're collecting..."
“No.” He cut off his words.
"So you prepared this all along?" Ye Mu tapped his chin lightly with his pen, looking up at Wen Kong. "When Granny Lin went to the temple to invite you, did you know it was to teach me?"
"I don't know."
"Then do you know what my name is?"
"I don't know."
"I don't know," Ye Mu pouted, scribbling a circle around the black ink blob with his pen. "It makes a sound when you tap it, and it doesn't even dare to utter half a word."
"Too much talking is bad for your mental health."
"Silence is the best policy." Ye Mu quickly replied, "My surname is Ye, and my given name is Mu."
As she spoke, she lightly turned her wrist and wrote her name on the paper. Wen Kong lowered his eyes and watched quietly. The tip of the pen moved across the paper, and in the turns and pauses, there was a faint trace of his brushwork.
Wen Kong's heart stirred slightly. If she could grasp the basics by secretly studying the few scrolls of scriptures he had sent her two months ago without any guidance, her intelligence was truly extraordinary. He himself had been practicing calligraphy since he was four years old, practicing every day without fail, and it would still take him a year and a half to reach the level of her current skill.
"What do you think, Master? Isn't this 'Mu' character quite good?" Ye Mu noticed the subtle change in his expression, and a slight smile appeared on his lips, revealing a hint of pride.
Ye Mu remembered that once in her previous life, she was copying the "Samyutta Nikaya" on a stone table in the courtyard. Her pen strokes were just the words "If there is nothing at dusk, there is nothing to fear in the morning." As soon as she stopped writing, a lonely shadow quietly descended.
It was Wen Kong returning from his morning class. As he passed by her, his gaze swept over the paper, and for the first time ever, he stopped in his tracks.
“Mu,” he rarely commented then, “the form is already taking shape, not bad.”
Wen Kong was always sparing with his words and rarely praised others. Even the disciples in the temple who made great progress in their studies rarely received a word of affirmation from him. That was the first time Ye Mu had heard him praise him directly, so he remembered it exceptionally clearly.
She had complete confidence in her choice of the character "暮" (dusk).
"The force dissipates."
Ye Mu suddenly snapped back to reality, almost thinking he had misheard, "Where did they disperse?"
She subconsciously lifted the sheet of raw Xuan paper and examined it closely against the light. The strokes and structure were clearly identical to the characters he had approved in her memory.
How did it fall apart? It was perfectly fine.
Hmph, young Wen Kong is truly heartless and utterly unlovable.
Ye Mu thought to herself, a thought rising in her mind: she seemed to have never seen him write the character "Mu" alone.
Only once in her previous life, when she was seeking guidance in his meditation room, she happened to glimpse a discarded scripture lying on the corner of the desk. At the edge, a character with dripping ink suddenly caught her eye. Its structure was wild and its strokes were connected. At first glance, it was clearly her character "暮" (dusk), but it was written so hastily and carelessly that it almost lost its form.
She pointed to the character and asked in surprise, "Why did Master write my character '暮' (dusk)?"
Wen Kong simply reached out and snatched the paper away, casually rolling it into the discarded drafts, his voice extremely cold, "You've mistaken it. That's 'grave,' the 'grave' in cemetery."
Ye Mu was already terrified of him at that time, and when she saw his aura suddenly darken, she felt a chill in her heart and dared not ask any more questions.
Now, facing Wen Kong as a boy, her mind started racing. She really wanted to see how the character "暮" he wrote was different from the wild character in her memory.
Ye Mu handed over the pen in his hand, "Since you think my writing is bad, please demonstrate one for me."
Wen Kong did not refuse, holding the brush with his wrist suspended, the strokes were rugged, the brushwork was like being carved by a knife and axe, broad yet powerful.
After finishing writing, he gently lifted his wrist and placed the pen steadily back on the jade pen mountain, saying, "I will judge for myself."
Ye Mu stared intently at the character "暮" (Mu) before him. Although the character's strokes were sharp and vigorous, and its appearance was slightly different from the messy and unrestrained handwriting on the discarded draft in his memory, the pauses and structure at the end of the strokes were almost identical, clearly indicating that it was the same character.
That was her twilight.
But why did Wen Kong from her past life lie to her?
"How is it?" Wen Kong saw that Ye Mu was distracted again and tapped the table lightly. "Your mind is scattered and your brushwork is completely lacking. If you have no interest in this, I will take my leave."
Having said that, he flicked his wide sleeves slightly, and this time he was truly leaving.
"Young Master, please wait!" Ye Mu was slightly startled and quickly reached out to grab a corner of his sleeve. When he looked up, his expression was as sincere as could be. "It was my fault. I was momentarily captivated by the spirit and style in your calligraphy. Your calligraphy reflects your personality, and your style is exceptional. I admire you wholeheartedly. How could I not want to learn from you?"
She spoke sweetly, but inwardly she thought: This young Wen Kong is far more difficult to deal with than the composed and dignified holy monk he will become. It seems that no matter who it is, young people have big tempers, even this young monk is no exception.
Wen Kong lowered his eyelashes, his gaze falling on the chubby little fingers that were tugging at his sleeve. He remained silent for a moment, but ultimately did not leave. "Since you know you are lacking, then follow this model and practice fifty times a day. The turns and twists of your brushstrokes must be exactly as shown."
Fifty times? Ye Mu's wrist went limp, and his lips stung. He had really asked for trouble, but he could only nod and accept it with a wry smile.
Just then, footsteps approached outside the door. "Fourth Sister, is your calligraphy teacher here?"
With a gentle voice and graceful demeanor, Liu entered the room, her eyes sparkling with warmth.
Seeing his mother's expression, Ye Mu knew that the purchase case must have gone well, so he quickly stood up with a smile and introduced her, "That's right, Mother, this is Master Wen Kong from Baoxiang Temple."
Then he turned to Wen Kong and said, "Master, this is my mother."
When Liu saw that the monk was a thin young man, she was slightly taken aback. She had thought he would be a monk in his twenties or thirties, but he was so young. She blurted out, "How old are you, young monk?"
Wen Kong bowed respectfully and said, "Madam, this humble monk is thirteen years old."
Liu smiled and said, "A young talent like him is indeed rare."
That's what she said, but she was still uncomfortable inside. After all, he was just a kid. Why did his mother-in-law bring him here? Was it just her way of being polite to Fourth Sister? Besides, he was still in school at such a young age. How could he be a teacher?
She slowly walked to the desk, lowered her eyes to examine Ye Mu's handwriting closely, and saw that there was indeed some style in the strokes, much neater than that of ordinary children, but it was sharp and lacked subtlety.
Then she saw the character "暮" (dusk) on the side, its strokes strong and powerful, undoubtedly the work of Wen Kong. Liu lightly touched a blank space with her fingertip and asked in a gentle voice, "Young master, your brushwork is so vigorous, may I ask which master you studied under?"
Wen Kong lowered his eyes slightly, "This humble monk is of lowly quality and dares not disgrace my master. I have merely copied it on my own and have not yet grasped the true essence."
Liu was even more suspicious, but she still smiled and said, "Young master is too modest. To have such skill in copying on your own shows your extraordinary talent. However, my daughter is a beginner and her brushwork is not yet settled. She should avoid unorthodox methods. May I ask what model you usually use?"
"Inscription on the Xuanta Pagoda"
Liu was slightly taken aback, and hesitated before asking, "Could it be a letter left behind by Zen Master Sili?"
Wen Kong nodded silently.
Liu's expression immediately turned solemn, her heart filled with astonishment. She had only heard from her father that this calligraphy was of ancient and profound style, yet even rubbings of it were rarely seen in the world. The fact that this young monk was able to obtain it and copy it showed that its origins were by no means ordinary.
She took out a purse from her sleeve, bowed respectfully, and said, “It is my fault for being so blind and disrespectful. Although you are young, Master, you have already grasped the essence of the ancient teachings. This is a great blessing for me. I will trouble you to teach me carefully in the future. This is just a small token of my appreciation, please do not refuse it.”
"Madam, you are too kind." Wen Kong stepped aside slightly. "Your family has already paid for the incense offerings, and the temple has accepted them. This is our duty, and we dare not accept any further favors. My lessons for today are complete, and I will take my leave."
After speaking, without saying another word, he clasped his hands together, gathered his clothes, and drifted away.
"Mother, who is that Zen Master Sili?" Ye Mu watched the gray-blue monk's robe disappear outside the moon gate before turning his gaze away and asking curiously.
"I also heard about it from your grandfather. Master Sili was a highly virtuous ascetic monk from the previous dynasty. It is said that he never stayed in famous temples, but traveled around the world. He used sand as paper and withered branches as brushes, and developed a unique style of calligraphy derived from Northern Wei calligraphy, which became his own. His characters are like a lone pine tree standing on a cliff, with an iron-like strength, and are known as Iron Sand Zen Calligraphy."
She turned to her daughter and said, “The Zen master lived a simple life and rarely left any traces. He was even less willing to give his calligraphy to others. His book, ‘Xuan Ta Ming Xu’, is said to have been carved to commemorate his deceased mentor. The original stele has long been buried in weeds, and there are fewer than five rubbings in the world. They are all kept in the secret collections of noble families and are rarely seen.”
Upon hearing this, Ye Mu suddenly understood. No wonder his mother had been so surprised earlier. But how could Wen Kong, a helpless young novice monk, have obtained such a rare book? A noble family... If he came from a noble family, why would he become a monk? And why would he be bullied like this by his fellow disciples?
"Fourth Sister, this young master is no ordinary person. You must study calligraphy diligently and not waste this opportunity. You must also be mindful of your manners."
Ye Mu listened to her mother's teachings and obediently nodded in agreement. She was still thinking about the follow-up of the purchase, but she was afraid that asking too many questions would reveal her secrets, so she kept quiet about it. She would find out eventually anyway.
Sure enough, the next morning, Ye Mu heard his grandmother and mother talking.
“Zhang is muddle-headed and embezzled the master’s money. Your sister-in-law has already sent her to the estate outside the city to reflect on her mistakes.” The old lady’s voice was calm, revealing neither joy nor anger. “It’s also because you are observant that you discovered the discrepancies in the accounts.”
Liu hurriedly stood up, her posture respectful. "I dare not take credit. It was only because Fourth Sister was so honest that she asked about the money for the carriages and horses that I became suspicious and investigated further."
"Fourth Sister is a good person."
After saying this, the old lady picked up her teacup, gently stirred the foam on the surface, and said nothing more.
Ye Mu lowered her eyes, understanding dawning on her. With her grandmother's keen insight, how could she possibly miss these undercurrents in the manor? She clearly knew that many things were involved. If they were to delve deeper, it would likely touch upon the complex web of interests within the manor and damage the reputation of the Marquis's residence.
By dealing with Madam Zhang in this way, she has both deterred those behind the scenes and upheld the rules and regulations. This minor punishment serves as a warning to others and maintains a semblance of stability, demonstrating the wisdom of the old lady.
She glanced up and saw her mother sitting to the side, her fingertips curled tightly under her sleeves, clearly resentful but not daring to say anything.
Ye Mu pondered for a moment, then stepped forward, raised her small face, and said softly, "Grandmother just praised Fourth Sister?"
Seeing her charming and innocent appearance, the old lady couldn't hide her smile. "I was praising you."
"Could Fourth Sister ask Grandmother for a reward?" Ye Mu blinked innocently.
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