The matter of the game, Zhong Yue has almost forgotten about it. Participating in the competition before is about participating. After being troubled by the headlines on the front page, Zhong Yue was completely not interested in this game.

Tens of thousands of yuan are smashed down, and the speculation is so hot, if you can't get the first place, is it possible?

However, in this competition, the prize money is only a few hundred yuan, which is not as generous as the casual work when the cultural center opened before, and it is not worth spending this money. But it's not his own pocket anyway, whatever.

The summer vacation gradually dissipated, the evening breeze blew in the mountains, and the sound of rustling came from the peach forest.

It's when the summer potatoes are ripe.

The family not far from Zhong's house, Zhang Guangyan, Uncle Yan's son is about to get married, bought a lot of wedding cards, and asked Zhong Yue to come over in the afternoon to help write the wedding card, and brought a small sack of freshly turned sweet potatoes.

Zhong Yue piled up firewood in the clearing, and after burning it out, he simmered four or five sweet potatoes in it. When I was a child, I used to eat it like this, and then I went to school in the prefecture, and I never had time to taste such a delicacy again. The sweet potatoes roasted from the diesel barrel outside the school are all soaked in sugar water, and they taste watery, and they don't have the original sweet potato at all.

Sweet potatoes rely on the temperature of the charcoal fire, and it takes three or four hours to fully ripen them, and Zhong Yue took advantage of this time to enter the system.

Observe the nine potentials of gods and men.

The small block calligraphy is complete, and Zhong Yue has experienced all kinds of ink rhymes on one side, and has different perceptions.

He's getting closer to the truth......

Xiaokai Dacheng, not that there is no room for improvement. Where is the end of the way of calligraphy?

Is it the end point if it reaches the level of the sage?

I'm afraid that for thousands of years, no one can tell Zhong Yue this answer.

Some people spend their lives writing in a bald basket, but in their later years, the style of calligraphy changes greatly, and there is a higher pattern, which is the joy of calligraphy.

A person's style of writing changes with age, experience, and mood.

In the last stroke, Zhong Yue still couldn't see why, if he had to say something, he could only say that it was very good.

Wonderful.

It was so wonderful that Zhong Yue couldn't copy it, couldn't emulate it, let alone explain it.

It's like a definition of life.

No matter how much there is a text to explain and discuss, even if it is a long and exhaustive discussion, it will seem pale and cannot summarize the interesting thing of life.

Some things, it exists, and it doesn't exist for people to explain.

After not gaining too much, Zhong Yue could only end up disappointed and prepared to visit Wang Xun again.

After entering the place where the Wang clan gathered, there were many more clansmen in the courtyard in the background. However, just like on the streets of Guyangzhou before, these people couldn't see Zhong Yue.

Zhong Yue walked through and came to the front of the Wang family's ancestral hall. Wang Xun held his belt with both hands, and stood straight in front of the ancestral hall.

"I've seen Wang Shangshu. ”

"No need to be polite. ”

"I don't know about studying, how are you thinking about it?"

Wang Xun said: "I asked my uncle. ”

"What did Wang Youjun say?"

Wang Xun said calmly: "Uncle said, although you are the descendant of Taiwei Zhong, the rules of the Wang clan cannot be broken. And not all of my uncle's brushwork was obtained from Mrs. Wei, so how can the Langya Wang clan be a general one for hundreds of years?"

“……”

Okay, good, I know you're a cow!

Zhong Yue's face was a little ugly, this was even more disappointing than not having the penmanship, how could this kind of thing happen? This system is not scientifically set up!

"However, my uncle said that meeting is fate, you can take Zhong Xiaoyou to a place, and how much you can realize depends on Xiaoyou's ability. ”

Zhong Yue raised his eyebrows, "Thank you Wang Shangshu." ”

Zhong Yue thought, could it be the library of the Langya Wang's family? Maybe it was some penmanship inheritance in the Wei and Jin dynasties. Dating back to more than a thousand years ago, a lot of information has been lost, so Zhong Yue is also very excited, what is the place that can make Wang Xizhi make an exception and teach him.

Heading east from the Wang Clan's ancestral hall, it was already a little far away from the place where the clan gathered, and Zhong Yue had more doubts in his heart. What the hell is this? Langya Wang's family, hundreds of years, can be good at calligraphy and painting talents, Wang Xizhi, Wang Xianzhi, Wang Xuanzhi, Wang Ningzhi, Wang Huanzhi, Wang Suzhi, Wang Huizhi, Wang Xun, etc., the children and nephews are all calligraphers, the fourth grandson Wang Shengqian, the seventh Sun Zhiyong is also a calligraphy master, among which there are many unknown calligraphers, such a calligraphy family, what is the secret?

The more Zhong Yue thought about it, the more excited he became, and he followed Wang Xun to a wooden bridge.

"It's time to get there. ”

Zhong Yue came back to his senses, "It......'s here?"

Chao looked around, there was nothing, this is where the Wang family kept secret?

Teasing me, huh?

"Wang Shangshu, I don't know what kind of brushwork can be found here?"

Wang Xun pointed to the group of geese under the bridge and said, "The mystery of Wang's brushwork is hidden in this thing." ”

"Goose?"

"Exactly. Wang Xun turned around and returned, "Zhong Xiaoyou, good luck." ”

Goose?

Take me to see the geese?

Zhong Yue has a feeling of wanting to die, isn't this playing with me!

He didn't understand what Wang Xizhi meant or Wang Xun meant, but could he see a chicken feather when he looked at the goose?

Zhong Yue stood on the wooden bridge, like a mentally retarded person, looking at a flock of geese, calling one after another.

In two hours, Zhong Yue was automatically sent out of the system.

What do you see?

Goose.

What did you learn?

Goose...... Forehead......

Zhong Yue was a little crazy, what did it mean. He's here to learn penmanship, look at a goose......

A look at the proficiency level, sure enough, it is stuck at zero percent progress. Zhong Yue had a feeling that he had been pitted. What kind of business is this?

Look at the goose, I look at your melon skin!

Coming out of the penmanship system, Zhong Yue sat on the sofa and leaned back a little tiredly.

It was still very exhausting in the system, and thinking of the sweet potatoes simmering in the charcoal fire, Zhong Yue went out to find the sweet potatoes.

There was still residual warmth in the charcoal fire outside the house, Zhong Yue squatted aside, and the bamboo branches were flipping.

The phone rang, and Zhong Yue picked up the phone while looking for sweet potatoes.

"Hey. ”

"Zhong Yue, it's me. ”

"Huang Lao, is there something wrong?"

The appearance of sweet potatoes is already carbon black, and there is no tin foil at home, otherwise if you wrap a layer of tin foil, it should not be so charred.

"The judging of the contest is over. You won the second prize. ”

A roasted sweet potato was pinched from the bamboo branch and landed on the plate next to it, "Oh. First?"

Huang Xu, "Yan Qinli Monument". ”

"Huh. ”

"Don't worry too much about it, there are many factors in the live calligraphy competition. ”

"Hmm. ”

Zhong Yue shook his head and chuckled, this kind of competition is still shady?

"I understand that you are not convinced, but there is no first article, and the selection of works, different book styles and works, it is difficult to judge the superiority. ”

"I know, thank you for notifying me. ”

Zhong Yue hung up the phone and brought the sweet potato back to the house, and the knife hung up the carbon layer on the outside of the sweet potato.

It's a white potato, not a sweet potato. Although white potatoes are not as sweet as sweet potatoes, Zhong Yue is good at this bite, and there are very few sweet potatoes of this variety on the market.

Zhong Yue took a bite, fragrant, sweet but not greasy, it was the taste of the ingredients themselves, so hot that he only dared to bite lightly with his front teeth.

Specially accompanied by a can of cold beer, a few white potatoes into the stomach, Zhong Yue lying on the bamboo couch, the mountain breeze blowing in from the window.

"What rubbish......"