Chapter 15: Virtue and Virtue
"Write for me? Do you think you're a calligrapher? Do you know how much I paid for this calligraphy?"
Looking at the old man's disdainful look, you can tell how deeply he misunderstood Si Wan's shameless words.
"Heh." Si Wan laughed out loud, slowly picked up the teacup and took a sip, then put it down and said, "Then do you know how much my calligraphy is worth?"
"You..." The old man was so angry that his teeth were itching. He said disparagingly, "It's ridiculous to try to shake a tree with an ant. You don't know your own limitations."
"If you don't climb a high mountain, you don't know how high the sky is; if you don't stand by a deep stream, you don't know how thick the earth is." Si Wan laughed at the ignorance of people in this world. She stood up from the table and her eyes turned to the destroyed words.
"People of today should never underestimate the water in a pond; even in its shallows there may be a sleeping dragon. Old man, today I will return to you the four characters 'Virtue and Morality'. If they are not as good as this, I leave it to you to decide what to do with them. ...How do you think?"
"Jinnian, Si Wan is notorious in the industry for being unlearned and unskillful. She's showing off like this, and while embarrassing herself is the least of her worries, I'm afraid if Mr. Jiang comes, he'll probably chop her hands off. Why don't we help her?"
Dai Ke and Yu Jinnian appeared at the door without knowing when. But Si Wan had her back to them, so she missed Dai Ke's gloating expression.
Yu Jinnian's eyes were so deep that no one could see them. The man slowly pursed his thin lips into a haughty line. The dim light in the corridor fell on his tall nose, forming an obscure silhouette. Combined with the sharp angles of his face, he looked perfect like a god in the ninth heaven.
But the man kept his eyes tightly closed, appearing restrained and indifferent in this quiet environment.
Dai Ke secretly curled her lips. She was very satisfied that Yu Jinnian didn't intend to meddle in her affairs. She just waited for the show to begin.
When Jiang Hansheng arrived, he caused a lot of noise, and the blocked door naturally made way for him, until he ran into Yu Jinnian.
The gangster stopped in his tracks, a look of surprise on his face: "...Meeting Dong?"
It was really unexpected. I had invited this person to dinner many times but failed to get what I wanted. But today I saw Yu Jinnian watching the fun with my own eyes.
It's really like putting a statue of a god in a rat hole. It's so confusing.
Yu Jinnian just nodded lightly as a greeting, with a dull expression that clearly showed he didn't want to greet Jiang Hansheng.
Jiang Hansheng didn't have the habit of trying to please others, so he just nodded and walked into the house.
With his backers here, the old man felt even more confident. He straightened his back arrogantly, and his next words were a bit threatening: "...My son has a bad temper, so you'd better take care of yourself, girl."
Si Wan turned around to look at the person who came. Under the light, the man had a thin and light temperament, with deep and three-dimensional features. His eyes seemed to contain a dangerous beast, and his whole body exuded an untouchable dangerous aura.
In the evening, when the sun was still warm, Jiang Hansheng received a phone call and went to the "Lao Niang Zuimei" private makeup studio.
Jiang Hansheng is a flower of high mountain in the underworld in Kyoto. Many good girls want to take the risk to pick this flower, but it is just a thought.
It was rumored that this gentleman was a romantic man. Many women had taken the risk of climbing onto his car, only to be thrown onto the road by him. It was also said that fierce dogs were often seen "eating people" on Jiutong Road in the middle of the night.
What he said was so convincing that over time no one dared to provoke him again.
It is also this man who does not know how to be gentle with women that is described as a romantic man in the eyes of others, who searches for his fiancée who has disappeared for many years like a loyal dog.
That evening, Jiang Hansheng saw a woman in a red dress in Jiang Wei's studio.
Her skin is as white as snow, and you can feel its jade-like warmth with just a light touch.
Her eyebrows are like distant mountains covered with smoke, and her eyes are as clear as autumn water, with sharpness and wisdom in her eyes.
She has a high nose bridge, cherry-colored lips, red without any makeup, and the slightly upturned corners of her mouth always seem to contain a defiant smile.
Her long hair was like a waterfall, dark and shiny, and gently tied up.
Their eyes met, and she looked away without being able to hide her disgust, that rebellious nature seemed to have been cultivated for thousands of years.
He actually looks somewhat like his fiancée who has never been seen or found.
On this day, Jiang Hansheng had the idea of playing with a woman outside of his hometown for the first time.
However, he was afraid of trouble, and his sister Jiang Wei's two words dispelled his desire.
"This is the third son of the Si family."
"It's the Si family you can imagine."
Jiang Wei thought that two words of reminder were enough, and took the earrings from Jiang Hansheng.
What she didn't know was that her brother's life would be lost at the hands of this woman in the near future.
*
"Why don't you prepare the pen, ink, paper and inkstone for me?" Jiang Hansheng had a doting smile on his face.
"Jiang Hansheng." The old man was dissatisfied and called his son's full name: "...Why are you also making trouble?"
Jiang Zhong was a little bit incredulous. He raised Jiang Hansheng and had never seen him act so rashly.
If there is... the past is too hard to recall, it is better not to mention it.
"Don't worry, Dad. Maybe he has something special."
Si Wan narrowed her eyes, sensing this person's ill intentions. Meanwhile, the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone had already been brought and spread out.
His face remained expressionless, the corners of his lips slightly raised. Si Wan looked at Jiang Hansheng. The possessiveness in the man's eyes was hard for her to ignore, but it wasn't enough to disturb her mood in the slightest.
He paused for a moment, and his eyebrows twitched as he thought about it. When he had an idea, he couldn't help but smile.
In an instant, Si Wan picked up the brush with her left hand and dipped the tip of the brush into ink.
The wrist is suspended and the pen is sharp, weighing a thousand pounds, and the ink falls, startling a crane into the sky.
The character "厚" starts with a stroke like a crane's foot stepping on snow, and the frosty hairs breaking through the paper reveal the deep and rich sound of pine and stone.
The thread of the word "德" is moved by the moonlight, and the shadow of the green bamboo swirling in the wind suddenly appears between the two strokes.
When writing the oblique hook of the word "载", the wolf hair suddenly turned into thunder and split the clouds, and the ink in the belly of the brush exploded into countless stars on the rice paper.
At the end of the word "物", the dry brush is like a spring silkworm spinning silk, and the thin thread-like string actually hides the power of the eight-sided tip.
All the spectators in the room could smell the fragrance of ink condensing into mountain mist. When the Shoushan stone seal fell to the ground with a clang, it seemed as if the entire Mount Tai was growing out of the scroll.
"Virtue carries all things." Si Wan finished writing and gently put down the brush. She could already hear Jiang Zhong's disbelieving voice.
"...How is this possible?"
Jiang Zhong wiped his eyes with trembling hands, pushed Si Wan aside, and stood in Si Wan's place. As soon as he spoke, his voice trembled uncontrollably:
“The brushwork is rich and varied, and the sense of momentum and continuity are truly unparalleled.
Use the straight tip, side tip, hidden tip and exposed tip to make the strokes present different shapes and textures.
The brush strokes are used swiftly and forcefully, as smoothly as painting, with more lifting and less pressing in the middle of the strokes, making them light, graceful, and full of rhythm and rhythm.
The stroke starts heavy, becomes lighter in the middle, and when encountering a turning point, lift the pen and turn it sideways down. The changes in the downward stroke are wonderful. The emphasis of the stroke is sometimes at the beginning, sometimes at the end, and sometimes in the middle of the stroke.
Each character has a tilt and a strange posture, full of dynamic beauty.
The space inside the character is compact, and through the extension and contraction of the strokes, a structural feature of being tight inside and loose outside is formed, which is both dangerous and strange yet stable.
The characters are either leaning to the left or the right, pursuing a sense of danger, but also seeking stability in danger, and the visual experience is novel and unique.
The overall charm and details are perfect. The size, density, and length of the characters are matched with each other to form a patchwork layout, breaking the conventional neat arrangement and adding more variety and rhythm.
The calligraphy style is full of ups and downs, sharp contrasts and unique personality.
The ink tones are varied, with alternating thick and thin, dry and wet, adding more layers and tension.
The dry brush and the moist brush complement each other, creating both the vigorous and powerful dry brush and the full and round moist brush, with the strength of the dry autumn wind and the charm of the moist spring rain.
Jiang Zhong's comments were quite professional. With tears in his eyes, the old man asked Si Wan, "...May I ask who your teacher is, young lady?"
“…” Si Wan was stunned. She couldn’t answer this question.
Who is your master?
Does Mi Fu count?
If you think about it, it doesn't count. She just learned calligraphy from her father since she was young, and her ancestors all learned the style of Mi Fu.
Who is Mi Fu? In the eyes of later generations, he is a saint of calligraphy.
But in the eyes of Si Wan's ancestors, he was just a fake leader.
So, she said, “…I’m self-taught.”
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