Most people who practice calligraphy love cleanliness and pay attention to organization and tidiness. The four treasures of the study are highly valued and cherished by literati.
Song Ye's rude technique was immediately sentenced to death by the literati present.
In fact, it makes sense when you think about it. Calligraphy is a skill that can only be accumulated over many years. Song Ye only studied it for two months under Meng Ziheng. I'm afraid he can't even polish ink well. It seems that this competition is just the boy's temporary whim and cannot be done seriously.
Thinking like this, the expectations of everyone present for this competition have been reduced a lot, and they are also a little careless and not so focused.
But when Song Yelang waved his pen and made the first stroke, someone on the field suddenly exclaimed, "Look."
Awakened by this sound, everyone looked over in unison. Their eyes fell on the young man's slender wrist, and when they saw the black and white words slowly spread out under her hand, they couldn't help but gasp.
"This is..." Even Meng Ziheng beside him couldn't help but exclaimed, his eyes were burning, and he didn't dare to miss every pause and outline of Langhao's brush.
The young man was wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt, his back was straight, and his slender wrists were faintly strong. He held the wolf brush in his hand and opened and closed it so arrogantly that people ignored his not-so-formal attire. , as if seeing the beauty of a drunken fairy in a drunken state, splashing ink.
As the boy's wrists turned, the handwriting gradually emerged. The characters were wild and varied, and the dots were continuous. They were like a dragon swimming freely in the water, or like a crane flying high in the forest. It seemed random. There is no structure, but a momentum bursts out from the paper, which makes the listener feel shocked and trembled.
Yes, this is Kuangcao.
Until the undulating strokes of the pen boldly drew the last stroke, the young man flicked his fingertips and threw the wolf hair directly on the inkstone. The ink dots flew and splashed on the rice paper, contrasting with the wild handwriting all over the painting. More wanton and unrestrained.
No one dares to say that Song Ye doesn't cherish Mo Yan and behaves vulgarly. In their opinion, this is the highest artistic conception of Kuang Cao.
"What a calligraphy, what a unique piece of cursive handwriting!" Without anyone's comment, everyone present couldn't help but exclaimed in surprise. They gathered around in twos and threes and worshiped the wild cursive handwriting on the table.
Although the fonts for calligraphy study have their own merits, but after thousands of years of changes, now fewer and fewer people practice cursive fonts on calligraphy brush characters, and those who can achieve such outstanding results are even rarer.
Therefore, Song Ye's calligraphy was completely based on the rare thing and the precious thing, and it instantly wiped out the kid next door to nothing.
At this time, even Mr. Meng couldn't help but walked over, looked left and right, and after savoring it carefully, he nodded with satisfaction and affirmation, "Not bad, not bad. It's really amazing that young people nowadays can have such writing power." It’s rare, and the writing is unique. It’s no exaggeration to say that it’s true for everyone. Ziheng, if your classmate is interested, you can invite him to my home. There are many wildly cursive copybooks in the study, which should be of interest to him. helped.”
Although the old man has a deep mind and does some unscrupulous methods for the sake of the family legacy, he is also a person who cherishes talents and loves talents. In fact, he does not reject talented young people.
With Mr. Meng's personal confirmation, even if the Bai family wanted to argue, they couldn't find a reason.
On the other hand, Bai Wenbo, a kid who had been humiliated, was very unconvinced. After carefully looking at the wild grass on the table next door, he said in a strong voice: "Impossible! There is absolutely no way that this wild grass of yours was written in two months. It’s got to come out.”
Although he admitted that he lost, he couldn't accept the idea of losing to a two-month starter. Although he was talented, he had to work hard at calligraphy since he was a child, and he suffered as much as others, so he was very sure that Song Ye's calligraphy skills definitely took more than two months.
Children are serious, how can others not see it? After thinking about it carefully, they all looked at Song Ye, trying to find a definite answer.
"Lying to you, what's the point of me?" Song Ye stood beside the desk, glanced at him lightly, and then added, "It can only be said that famous teachers make great disciples."
"You... liar!" Bai Wenbo's face turned red with anger, and finally he roared angrily. He couldn't bear the grievance anymore, threw away his hands and ran out.
Song Ye curled up his lips. This kind of stinky kid who deserves a beating should be discouraged to prevent him from growing crooked in the future.
Of course, Aunt Song didn't feel any guilt for bullying the child.
Bai Hua took a deep look at Song Ye, the look in his eyes was somewhat unpredictable.
Song Ye kept saying that he was Meng Ziheng's disciple, which was just to give Meng Ziheng a high hat, so that he could not directly cause trouble with the Meng family. Today, he made special inquiries and made plans to disrupt the situation, but in the end he was slapped in the face.
The unexpected change was this little-known young man.
Song Ye naturally felt Bai Hua's gaze, but she was not hurting at the moment. She was too lazy to pay attention to him. She helped the Meng family suppress him at the banquet for the time being. We have to wait and see what happens next.
"It is true that a hero emerges from his youth. It was all our fault just now. Little friend, we would like to apologize to you." In the crowd, these literati were also ashamed of how they had just judged others by themselves, and they all stood up and spoke generously. Apologize. It is said that calligraphy is like the person it is, and a person with such a mastery of calligraphy must not be an ordinary person.
Fu Tong'er watched from the side as the scene turned one-sided. The place that should have belonged to him became the boy's home court. All those kind words fell on Song Ye. Instead, she, the protagonist who deserved the most attention, was squeezed into a corner. Indifferent.
At this moment, her sense of crisis was stronger than ever.
She also truly felt that no matter whether Song Ye was a boy or a girl, this person was her number one rival.
Song Ye and Meng Ziheng took advantage of everyone to appreciate Kuangcao and retreated on their own.
Wang Qianqian jumped up and down and ran over, clasping her hands together, her eyes starry, as if worshiping, "Song Ye, every time I think you can do anything, you can always set the limit for me, oh, you are simply my idol. "
This time, even Fang Ye was a little surprised. He pushed up the glasses on the bridge of his nose and said, "If you know how to golf, I hope you can come to my house for a walk on the weekend." In view of the fact that Song Ye has displayed every ability these times. Approaching perfect performance, Fang Ye really wants to find talents for his own industry in a timely manner.
Le Mingyu snorted, somewhat dismissive of these people's bad behavior, turned his head, and just looked at the door, his eyes were blank.