A long table is spread out, and the circular venue arrangement surrounds the four-sided display cabinet in the center of the exhibition hall.

In this display case, it is also the place where four of the most famous works of the entire Tokyo Shodo Museum are on display: the sleet book of "Chunhua Pavilion Post", the work of Nakamura Buji Doufang, the fine fan of Ono Michifeng, and a painting of Yan Zhenqing's original work "Self-Written Confession".

Zhong Yue stood in front of the booth, and the system had already salivated several times. Ordinary works, even if they are modern master-level masterpieces, the system does not prompt the collection, the original Li Keran's masterpiece, there is no intention to eat, in reality, Zhong Yue only remembers that the old stone tablet of the Han San, there was a similar trigger situation. This kind of appetite to swallow the masterpiece of the world made Zhong Yue so angry that he almost wanted to cry.

One or two hundred thousand he is willing to do, this is a treasure book of one or two hundred million or even hundreds of millions at every turn, this is too much! Unless Zhong Yue really gave up his life and stood here to directly include this Yan Zhenqing's authentic calligraphy.

He suddenly remembered that when Da Qian, when he was writing songs in the Mid-Autumn Festival, he also got acquainted with a little fat man, who seemed to be called Yan Zhenqing......!

"Zhong Yue, the question is out. ”

Zhong Yue is grinding, this ink, he made it last night, the taste of the ink is very special, the surface is simple and unpretentious, the grinding is silent, quiet like tea brewed on the side.

Alice Tam trotted over with the title and handed the envelope to Zhong Yue.

"It's the creative rules. ”

Zhong Yue poured a cup of tea for Alice Tam and said, "Why are you in such a hurry?"

"Take a look. ”

Chung Yue opened the envelope and opened the paper inside: Destiny (운명) (運命)

What is it?

Zhong Yue said: "Fate. ”

"What should I do when I introduce my work later?"

Zhong Yue looked at Alice Tam's eyes and said, "That's what you decide, I'm responsible for completing the work, and you can tell you what you feel." ”

"No worries?"

"Yes, without any worries. ”

Alice Tam nodded gratefully, "Thank you for believing in me." ”

"Let's go take a break, I need to think about it. ”

"Good. ”

Zhong Yue put aside the creative rules, he has reached his realm, and then like the previous competition, in the content of the work to screen or make a choice in the font, in fact, it is inferior, the best calligraphy is the pen as you like.

Looking at the past, although the long tables in the salon are all placed with chairs, linen-colored upholstery, and the backs of the chairs are handmade of high-grade wood after varnish and polishing, such a unique chair can not be calculated in terms of cost, it can be priceless.

Zhong Yue sat down, picked up the teacup on the side, and drank it slowly.

Looking at the past from afar, it happened to be the famous Yan Zhenqing's "Self-Written Confession".

The yellowed paper still exists in the world, but the people have become dry bones.

Fate, the subject is too heavy.

This year, Yan Lugong was seventy-two years old.

This year, his calligraphy has reached the realm of perfection.

In this year, he wrote "Yan's Family Temple Tablet" and "Self-Written Confession" and other amazing works, which were cherished by future generations.

However, how could Yan Lugong have predicted the trajectory of these fates when he was alive?

The tea was fragrant, and Zhong Yue still didn't mean to write. This emotion is not worth his understanding of pen and ink to write something. First, Yan Lugong can't see it, and there is no need to mourn; second, if it's written on paper, there has to be weight, otherwise it's a bad work of moaning without illness.

The small teapot on the side contains Japanese sencha, which is actually brewed green tea, with a little astringency, refreshing tea aroma, and a long sweet aftertaste. Zhong Yue poured another cup, this pot of tea was specially asked for by Mitsuhiko Aoyama.

The people around swept over this tea master who looked like an old man basking in the sun, shook his head and sighed, what kind of crooked melons and cracked dates were sent by Huaxia this time, even if there were few people, still pretending to be so forced?

Calligraphy salon, some calligraphers of the International Calligraphy Association, who served as judges this time, also participated in it, and they have reprimanded the calligraphy of splashing ink and running right on thousands of islands, which has always been known for its depth. This time, his work is a single word "運", but the word "fortune" is cleverly hidden in this word.

This is also a feature of Chinese calligraphy culture.

The whole work is full of pen and ink, and there is an unyielding strength in the thinness, a kind of spirit that does not compromise with fate and wants to mix fate into a ball of waste paper.

Whether in terms of the form of calligraphy itself, it is also in terms of conception, as soon as this work came out, it suddenly made several Chinese calligraphers around a little embarrassed.

They are still using the eternal form, writing "three points are destined, and seven points depend on hard work".

"Fate often brings you happiness and misfortune at the same time. ”

"I won my life, and I was fortunate to lose it. ”

And so on, if there is a contribution to calligraphy, there is no problem, but the problem is that calligraphy itself lacks some taste. That is to add a bit of vulgarity to the vulgar, Qiandao ran right and smiled, and did not have too much communication with a few Chinese calligraphers around him.

Zhong Yue was still drinking tea, this small underglaze color pot, he had picked it up several times, and the tea went from hot to cold.

"What is this Huaxia kid doing?"

"Is this brewing emotion?"

"I think this is obviously cowardice, and I don't dare to write anymore. Their Huaxia calligraphy troupe has just ended up in one, do you think he dares to compare in the face of so many senior students in our Korea?"

"Hahaha......"

Jiang Boheng put down the pen, he was five meters away from Zhong Yue, and the more calm he saw Zhong Yue, the less calm he was. Zhong Yue didn't mean to put pen to paper, he was the one who was most worried.

"Why are you going?"

"I'm going to persuade him, but if it doesn't work, let him give up. ”

Chen Tingzhi glanced at Jiang Boheng.

Syllable.

Jiang Boheng put his hand on the back of Chen Tingzhi's hand, "This kid shaft, if he is not sure, he will not use the pen." I'm worried that he's having a mental breakdown, which he has done for himself. ”

"Let's take a look, when it's almost over, I'll go over with you to persuade you. ”

"Hey, okay. ”

In fact, in Zhong Yue's heart, that hurdle had already been crossed. Now he is like sitting in front of a flat lake, looking at his heart, exploring the moments that are worth his pen to recall, or need to leave something to write.

The tea was gone.

Hui Gan.

People who have drunk green tea have experienced the feeling of slightly astringent teeth between the lips and teeth, which is different from the uncomfortable taste of green persimmons.

"Huaxia boy, will you go back?"

Zhong Yue glanced at Jin Yinglie and muttered, "What am I doing here?"

"Mo?" Jin Yingyeol looked at Zhong Yue with a puzzled face.

Zhong Yue came back to his senses, thinking about asking the Buddha that night, blurted out, and muttered to himself: "I changed my life for others." ”

He looked at the rice paper on the table and suddenly stood up.

Many people looked at him.

"I'm here to change someone's life......" he muttered to himself, the pen in his hand lightly tapping on the ink disc, like a waltzing elf, the tip of the ink only touching the surface of the ink, but not the slightest bit of mud......