Chapter Thirty-Four: Displaying Calligraphy

  "Let me tell you, Grandpa's handwriting is really good..." Seeing a few people taking out their brushes and ink, Mengmeng suddenly pulled Lin Hui over and said.

  Upon hearing this, Lin Hui also became interested. After all, there are fewer and fewer people practicing calligraphy nowadays, and even fewer who can write well.

  At this time, Mengmeng's grandmother walked over with a smile, "The three of them are just like that, from time to time they want to get together and write words, don't bother them."

  Soon, several people had everything ready and were saying that Zhang Chusheng brought over three wine cups.

  "It's been a while since I've had this much to drink." He said, filling up the three cups. "Old Sun, you'd better go first, otherwise later on there won't be any room for you to show off." Zhang Chusheng joked after taking a sip.

  Upon hearing this, Sun Minghao seemed completely unbothered and laughed, saying "Your mouth is still as merciless as ever, I don't know how you managed to get into business."

  Sun Minghao didn't stand on ceremony either. After taking a sip of wine, he stood up directly. "This is really good wine! Bring more next time."

  Zhang Chusheng's face turned dark upon hearing this, "Do you think this wine is something that just fell from the sky? I've been storing it for five years before I was willing to take it out. Don't try to get a good deal and then act smart."

  Seeing Zhang Chusheng's anxious appearance, both Wang Jiawen and Sun Minghao burst out laughing.

  Sun Minghao walked to the side of the table, picked up a brush, thought for a moment, and his hand began to move. At this time, Wang Jiawen and Zhang Chusheng, who were sitting next to him, held their wine cups and smiled at Sun Minghao with great relish.

  Writing, drinking, this is the common hobby of three people. It's also because of this hobby that three people who didn't have much social interaction became close friends despite their age difference. Whenever they had free time, the three would gather together to drink and write.

  Writing, appreciating calligraphy, drinking and savoring wine are the most delightful things for them.

  After a few minutes, Sun Minghao put down his pen and his work was done. The elegant and refined dozens of characters were clear-cut and flowing naturally. In the dozens of characters, a kind of magnanimity was subtly revealed.

  Sun Minghao wrote in regular script, with bold and powerful strokes, looking exceptionally elegant. As soon as he started writing the first character, Lin Hui knew that his opponent was absolutely not just playing around casually, without decades of practice, it would be impossible to write such characters.

  At least, apart from his dad, he had never seen anyone else write so well.

  "I say Lao Sun, you always write like this, aren't you tired?" Just as he put down his pen, Zhang Chusheng shouted out. "However, what's written is just so-so, barely passable."

  Three people have known each other for decades, Sun Minghao naturally understood Zhang Chusheng's habits and smiled, "Being able to be said by you, Old Zhang, that something is passable, is also a kind of honor."

  As they spoke, Sun Minghao sat down to savor the wine, while Zhang Chusheng picked up his brush. The moment he picked up the pen, Zhang Chusheng seemed to have transformed into a different person, with an extremely focused expression on his face.

  A moment later, Zhang Chusheng took action. However, compared to Sun Minghao, Zhang Chusheng was much faster, and in less than a minute, he had already picked up his pen.

  Grass script!

  Zhang Chusheng's writing is in the style of cursive script, with each character revealing a kind of unbridled and bold wildness. The strokes are unrestrained, flowing like clouds and water, extremely natural, giving off an unintentional yet carefree feeling.

  Lin Hui is not good at writing cursive script, but he can read it. This is absolutely another calligraphy master. His father usually likes cursive script the most, and it's even more cursive than Zhang Chusheng's, some of which he doesn't even recognize.

  Looking at Wang Jiawen's face, Lin Hui couldn't help but feel a little excited. Sun Minghao and Zhang Chusheng were already considered top-notch, so what kind of calligraphy was Wang Jiawen good at? After all, from the performance of the three people, it could be vaguely seen that Wang Jiawen's attainments in calligraphy would not be inferior to the other two.

  "Old Zhang, your words are so wild and unrestrained..." Wang Jia Wen said with a smile.

  "No choice, I like it this way. Want to write how I want, not like Old Sun, been an official for too long, words also become so inflexible, now retired still the same."

  Three people laughed and chatted while drinking. Soon after, Wang Jia Wen stood up, it was his turn.

  Running script! Wang Jia-wen's brush had barely left the paper when Lin Hui knew that Wang Jia-wen was writing in running script.

  Soon after, two lines of characters appeared in front of several people. Seeing these words, Lin Hui couldn't help but feel a little amazed. Although the three people's handwriting was different, Wang Jia Wen's writing was slightly better.

  "Grandpa writes so well!" Mengmeng clapped her hands and said when she saw Wang Jia Wen finish writing.

  "Mengmeng, who writes better, your grandfather Zhang or Grandfather Sun?" Zhang Chusheng said to Mengmeng. He would never go compare with Wang Jiawen, but he had never conceded to Sun Minghao.

  She tilted her head and looked at the words on the table, then said in a somewhat childish voice, "I don't recognize what Grandpa Zhang wrote, but what Grandpa Sun wrote is nice."

  "Haha...!"

  Upon hearing this, Zhang Chusheng's face turned black with anger. How could he have forgotten that he wrote in cursive script? It was impossible for Mengmeng to recognize it. Meanwhile, Wang Jiawen and Sun Minghao burst out laughing.

  Before long, more than a dozen minutes had passed. At this time, Wang Jiawen suddenly said to Lin Hui: "Little Lin, have you also practiced soft brush calligraphy?" He had already noticed Lin Hui's eyes earlier, and generally young people didn't care much about soft brush calligraphy, after all, it wasn't used much in real life. However, just now Lin Hui was standing aside watching, looking very serious.

  Lin Hui nodded and said, "I used to practice for a while."

  Upon hearing Lin Hui say that, Wang Jiawen's face involuntarily revealed a hint of a smile, "You can also give it a try, after all, you're idle anyway."

  Zhang Chusheng and Sun Minghao also looked at Lin Hui with curiosity. Nowadays, young people who can write brush calligraphy are not many.

  Lin Hui was taken aback and didn't expect Wang Jiawen to say that.

  "Let you write, then write. Don't be shy, men shouldn't be so reserved. Even if it's not written well, we won't eat you." Seeing Lin Hui's appearance, several people thought Lin Hui was too hesitant to take action, and Zhang Chusheng called out directly.

  Lin Hui smiled wryly, if he didn't take action now, he would really have nothing to say for himself.

  "Alright, I'll make a fool of myself then. Don't scold me if it's not good." Lin Hui joked, after such a long time he had become familiar with the three old men, all of whom were easy to get along with.

  "Hurry up, what's with all the nonsense." Zhang Chusheng said with a glare.

  At this time, Mengmeng's grandma just walked over and laughed scolded, "Old Zhang, can't you say a few less words?" She had a very good impression of Lin Hui.

  Seeing Lin Hui wanting to write, Wu Mengqi and Mengmeng also curiously came over. Wu Mengqi was also a little surprised in her heart, can Lin Hui still write calligraphy?

  As they spoke, Lin Hui had already picked up the pen in his hand. To say that he hadn't written with a brush for a long time, but he didn't feel too much awkwardness, after all, he had been in contact with this thing for over ten years.

  Compared with the pens I used before, this pen in my hand is much better.

  After a moment's thought, Lin Hui put pen to paper. But just as he did, he felt a slightly different sensation.

  A master's skill is evident from the first stroke. Lin Hui hadn't even finished writing the first character, but the three people sitting beside him all looked up with sparkling eyes. Having been in contact with calligraphy for most of their lives, they naturally had a unique eye for it.

  When Lin Hui finished writing the first word, the eyes of the three people obviously lit up a bit, as if they had discovered some treasure, and even forgot to drink their wine.

  Lin Hui was also in a state of astonishment, having practiced soft-brush calligraphy for over a decade and achieving some level of mastery, but he knew he couldn't compare to Wang Jia or several others.

  At this moment, he suddenly discovered that his calligraphy level had improved a lot without realizing it.

  That control over the subtle hand force, that is, the control of the hand method, has improved a lot. Generally speaking, it takes a long time to accumulate experience to master this delicate hand method with ease. Lin Hui used to be absolutely unable to achieve such precision, but now he feels like he has already touched that level of mastery.

  Every stroke conveys a sense of powerful momentum, vast and majestic!

  Soon, Lin Hui realized that he had entered the realm of Qi cultivation, and with uninterrupted practice of hidden weapons, his control over his internal energy had improved significantly. Although he didn't understand the specific reason, it was absolutely related to those things.