Invincible Young Master in the City
Chapter 219 - 219 215 Persuading Calligraphy

219: Chapter 215 “Persuading” Calligraphy 219: Chapter 215 “Persuading” Calligraphy Because Zhao Guodong was concentrating on his calligraphy, it was impossible for Ye Fan to knock and disturb him.

“Let’s go inside.” Zhao Lina whispered softly, gently tugging at Ye Fan’s sleeve.

Ye Fan nodded and followed Zhao Lina inside with light steps.

When he reached the large desk, Ye Fan peeked at Zhao Guodong’s calligraphy and felt that it was quite good, having been practiced for at least twenty years.

The characters were restrained and square, making for a comfortable and pleasing handwriting.

However, upon closer inspection, he discovered a flaw.

That was an unevenness in the size of the strokes, showing signs of a self-taught artist who had started mid-way.

Seeing Ye Fan mesmerized by her father’s calligraphy, Zhao Lina thought he was overwhelmed by Zhao Guodong’s skills, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit proud as she tugged on Ye Fan’s sleeve again.

Ye Fan came back to his senses and turned to look at Zhao Lina.

Only to see Zhao Lina wearing a proud smile, she whispered softly, “How about my dad’s calligraphy?

Pretty good, right?”

“Yes, indeed quite good.” Ye Fan nodded and responded softly.

Zhao Lina giggled with delight, thinking to herself, my dad has been practicing calligraphy for decades, isn’t it a bit underwhelming to just call it ‘good’?

After a while, Zhao Guodong finally finished laughing, his square face beaming with a smile, looking satisfied at his own masterpiece.

Ye Fan looked again at the characters on the paper, which read, “If it benefits the country, one should dedicate life and death to it, how can we let fortune or disaster sway our loyalty?”

“Wow, it looks wonderful!” Zhao Lina exclaimed joyfully, “Dad, you should frame it and hang it in the living room.”

Zhao Guodong chuckled and turned to scold Zhao Lina lightly, “Know some modesty.”

However, from his smiling expression, it was clear he liked the idea.

“Ye Fan, you’re here,” Zhao Guodong turned to Ye Fan and said.

Ye Fan smiled, “Yes.

I saw you were busy with your calligraphy, so I didn’t dare to greet you.”

Zhao Guodong nodded slightly and asked Ye Fan, “Do you practice calligraphy too?”

“A little,” Ye Fan said with a light smile, “but I haven’t written for…”

“For six years, right?” Zhao Guodong interjected with a teasing smile.

Last time, Ye Fan had also said he hadn’t played Go for six years, and ended up being embarrassingly defeated.

If it hadn’t been for fleeing the scene with a flip of the Go board, it would have been difficult to save face.

But this time was different.

Calligraphy, though reliant on talent and inspiration, required consistent practice over the years.

A calligraphy master’s peak works are often written in their thirties or forties, after decades of refinement, enabling them to produce truly breathtaking pieces.

At twenty-two and having spent a few years in the military, it was impossible for Ye Fan to have produced quality calligraphy.

Thus, Zhao Guodong was quite confident this time that he could impress his future son-in-law.

Zhao Lina, standing by the side, couldn’t help but smirk.

Ye Fan smiled and said, “Heh, it really has been six years since I last practiced.”

Zhao Lina finally couldn’t help but giggle aloud.

Zhao Guodong couldn’t help but laugh and said, “Since you’ve studied calligraphy, why don’t you write something too?”

“Perhaps not?

After so many years, I might not even remember the correct way to hold a brush.

So, I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of you,” Ye Fan said, smiling and shaking his head.

Hearing this, Zhao Guodong’s smile broadened, thinking secretly that it would be best if Ye Fan couldn’t even write at all.

He warmly continued, “Haha, there are no strangers here, no need to worry about embarrassing yourself.

Come on, write a couple of characters for your uncle to see, perhaps I can point out what you lack.”

With that, he thrust a brush into Ye Fan’s hand.

“Uncle, I’ll wait until I get home and practice for a few months to get the feel of it again before I embarrass myself in front of you,” Ye Fan said, shaking his head in refusal.

Seeing that Ye Fan stubbornly refused to display his calligraphy, Zhao Guodong secretly signaled to Zhao Lina with a glance.

Zhao Lina felt a bit embarrassed for her father, comparing his strong points to someone else’s weaknesses—what was the point?

However, she also hoped her father could suppress Ye Fan a bit to keep him from being so arrogant.

Thus, she deliberately said in a slightly reproachful tone, “Ye Fan, if my dad asks you to write, just write.

My dad has never been this enthusiastic with anyone else.”

Hearing Zhao Lina pressuring him as well, Ye Fan reluctantly took the brush and said, “Alright.

If it’s too poorly done, please don’t blame me, uncle.”

“Haha, that’s more like it.

Young man, you must be brave and push forward; you might make some mistakes, and you might not do things perfectly, but if you aren’t brave and push forward, you’ll never have the chance to try,” Zhao Guodong laughed.

“Youth is about falling down and getting back up; it’s through stumbling that one truly becomes refined.”

“Yes, uncle, you are right,” Ye Fan respectfully acknowledged, accepting the lesson as a junior should.

Zhao Guodong turned to Zhao Lina and commanded, “Lina, quickly change to fresh xuan paper for Ye Fan.”

“Hee hee, got it,” Zhao Lina giggled, looking forward to seeing Ye Fan make a fool of himself.

Therefore, she quickly moved to replace the calligraphy her father had just written.

Zhao Guodong casually mentioned, “The writing desk is spacious enough; there’s no need to arrange it too carefully, just move it aside.”

Zhao Lina, understanding her father’s meaning, giggled and carefully moved Zhao Guodong’s calligraphy to the left side of the writing desk, then laid a clean sheet of xuan paper on the right side.

While Zhao Lina changed the paper, Ye Fan held the brush in his hand, pretending to write in midair to familiarize himself with the feel.

Zhao Guodong didn’t purposely disturb Ye Fan but couldn’t help thinking proudly, “Kid, you’re admitting defeat now, right?

You think I, Zhao Guodong, don’t have a few tricks up my sleeve?

Otherwise, how could I ever take up the mantle of being your mentor?

If I don’t put you in your place, my daughter might suffer from your bullying.”

Ye Fan felt truly uncertain about displaying his calligraphy, not because he didn’t understand it, but because he had not practiced it for a very long time.

As a primary heir groomed by a top-tier family, possessing a few presentable artistic talents was essential; otherwise, once he truly entered military and political circles, lacking any artistic flair would make him less appealing than others.

Indeed, nowadays, which significant figure in the military and political arenas didn’t have one or two artistic skills to showcase to the public?

Take the Great Ancestor, for instance, who wrote in a distinguished Mao-style calligraphy and composed majestic, heroic imperial poems, earning him countless ultimate admirers.

Calligraphy was indeed one of the significant talents that Ye Fan’s family demanded he learn.

Starting from the age of six, when Ye Fan began recognizing characters and words, his family had hired famous calligraphers to teach him calligraphy.

As he grew older, at twelve years old, they specifically hired one of the nation’s most renowned master calligraphers as his personal instructor.

Therefore, Ye Fan’s foundational skills in calligraphy were exceptionally solid.

However, after joining the military, six years had passed without him touching a brush—Ye Fan himself wasn’t sure how much of the calligraphy he had spent so much time learning as a child remained.

After all, calligraphy is something that requires regular practice.

Without practice, skills inevitably become rusty.