Song Baoxuan came to Old Man Zheng's study for the first time.

The decoration in the study has a very serious feeling, which makes people inexplicably serious.

There are a lot of books in the study, and there are several calligraphy hanging on the wall, which looks quite old, and the writing is also very good, I don't know which celebrity's work.

Old Man Zheng looked at Song Baoxuan staring at his collection, these calligraphy were obtained by him with great difficulty, but Song Baoxuan liked him and could endure the pain.

"Bao girl, do you like these calligraphy?"

Song Baoxuan nodded, these calligraphy paintings are really good.

"Well, that's well written."

"If you like it, pick one, I'll give it to you, old man."

Although Song Baoxuan didn't know who wrote these calligraphy, she didn't need to guess to know that it was very valuable, so she quickly shook her head.

"No, no, no. Grandpa Zheng, I'll take a look, you're ruining it for me. ”

"It's a, you can just take it back."

"It may not take long for me to break when I take it back, and I won't keep these things much, so it's better for you to keep it yourself, Grandpa Zheng."

When Old Man Zheng heard Song Baoxuan say this, he didn't insist on sending it after thinking about it.

These calligraphy are treasures, and if they are damaged, he will die of distress.

"Okay, then let's write, just write whatever you want."

Zheng Laozi took out his brush and spread it on rice paper, Song Baoxuan looked at the inkstone next to him and the clear water, and silently began to grind the ink.

Old Man Zheng looked at Song Baoxuan's method of grinding ink without hurry, neither light nor heavy, everything was just right, he nodded.

Grinding ink is also particular, if the grinding ink is not good, then the next writing will definitely be affected.

Song Baoxuan gradually added water in the process of grinding ink, and the water could not be added too much at first.

Song Baoxuan was very serious in grinding ink, and Old Man Zheng felt that she had the temperament of a calligraphy family at this time.

"Grandpa Zheng's ink is polished."

"Well, you can always impress me, baby girl."

Song Baoxuan smiled slightly and didn't say anything.

Old Man Zheng really wanted to see what Song Baoxuan's calligraphy looked like, so he said to her.

"Bao girl, let's write it first!"

"Grandpa Zheng, you should come first, I don't write very well."

"Huh! With the posture you just sharpened, I don't think your calligraphy will be bad. Don't be modest, show me this old man. ”

Song Baoxuan didn't shirk anymore, she picked up the brush and dipped it in ink.

Write four words on rice paper, God rewards hard work.

Old Man Zheng couldn't help but praise when he looked at the words written by Song Baoxuan and the posture she wrote just now.

"Good, good, wonderful! It's a good thing to reward hard work. ”

Song Baoxuan put down the brush and said.

"Grandpa Zheng, I don't write very well, it makes you laugh."

"No, no, no, you write so well, if I hadn't seen you write these four words with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed that you wrote them."

Old Man Zheng stared at the words written by Song Baoxuan with enthusiasm, and these four words have the demeanor of calligraphy.

Old Man Zheng has practiced calligraphy for so many years and is not as good as Song Baoxuan's writing, and he can't help but feel a little ashamed.

I have lived most of my life, and I can't compare to a little girl.

"It's really stronger than the next! We old bones can't compare to you young people, Bao girl, you wrote these four words to me, how about it? ”

Song Baoxuan was a little embarrassed when she heard Old Man Zheng's words, she felt that she didn't play very well just now, and she hadn't written for too long.

"Uh... I don't write very well. ”

Song Baoxuan looked at the calligraphy hanging on the wall, her own is a lot worse!

"Bao girl, do you want to give me this old man?"

"No, Grandpa Zheng, you misunderstood, I'm just embarrassed to give it to you, after all, I didn't play well."

"You write so well, I, an old man, still have to learn from you, would you like to give me these four words?"

"If Grandpa Zheng doesn't dislike it, then I'm naturally willing."

"Haha! What am I not willing to do? I'm going to frame it and hang it in my study. ”

"Don't... Don't do it! ”

"Hang, must be hung, it's a pity that such a good word doesn't hang."

Song Baoxuan has written enough, and Old Man Zheng doesn't plan to write it.

He wanted to save some face for himself, and the words he wrote were too different from those written by Song Baoxuan.