My Taoist nun girlfriend is from the Republic of China era, 1942.

Chapter 113 Bosom friend?

The next morning, the living room was quiet.

The sofa was empty, with the blanket neatly folded and placed in a corner of the armrest.

The dining table was cleaned up, the two empty Niulanshan bottles disappeared without a trace, and even the trash can was covered with a new bag.

Lu Yuan went to the kitchen to heat up the milk. Chen Xiaomiao yawned and staggered out of the room, her black-rimmed glasses slightly tilted. She asked while yawning.

"Sister Song Jia has left?"

"Yes, they must have been gone for a while."

The two sat down at the table. Chen Xiaomiao nibbled on her steamed bun, still thinking about what happened last night.

"Lu Yuan, why was Sister Song Jia so angry yesterday? She can always come back next year. There's no need to get so upset."

In her view, there are plenty of jobs to do in the world, and as long as you are diligent, you won't starve to death.

Why is Song Jia so fixated on this one thing?

Lu Yuan took a sip of milk and slowly explained, "For her, time may not be running out."

"Not much time?"

"If I don't pass the exam this time, I'll probably have to go on blind dates arranged by my family."

"So you mean... Sister Song Jia is getting married?"

"It hasn't gotten to that point yet."

Lu Yuan leaned back in his chair: "She might just be meeting someone as her parents requested. But once this starts, it's hard to say what will happen next."

You heard her mention it last time; that guy is quite a catch.

"Hearing you say that, Sister Song Jia seems quite pitiful."

"Don't worry, Song Jia is clear-headed. She'll find a way."

Chen Xiaomiao nodded and didn't pursue the matter further.

After finishing breakfast, Chen Xiaomiao cleaned up the house inside and out, then curled up on the sofa with her phone and started scrolling.

As she was scrolling, a live stream made her stop.

On the screen, a girl dressed in Hanfu is sitting at an antique-style desk.

A sheet of Xuan paper lay before her, her wrist suspended in the air, a brush swirling at her fingertips, the strokes flowing like dragons and snakes, like clouds and water.

As the camera zooms in, a line of regular script appears on the paper.

The writing was mediocre, but the comments that flooded the screen were full of praise.

After watching short videos for half a year, Chen Xiaomiao naturally knew that the woman was live streaming, and as long as she had a lot of viewers, she could earn a lot of money every month.

Ever since her ghostwriting "financial life" was cut off, she has been feeling uneasy.

Seeing that this woman can earn money just by writing, I can't help but have a slight urge to do the same.

However, after a moment's thought, he dismissed the idea.

Firstly, Lu Yuan had given Sun Yao a heads-up when they filmed the short video together last time.

Secondly, although the woman's live stream title was "Calligraphy Appraisal," she was showing off her shoulders and thighs, so Chen Xiaomiao knew exactly what the viewers were looking for...

After turning off her phone, Chen Xiaomiao felt restless and her hands started itching to do the same.

The sense of loss that she felt after being "abandoned" by Boss Dong, mixed with the envy she felt watching others make money by writing, lingered in her heart like cat claws scratching at her.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, he simply took out his brush, ink, paper, and inkstone and laid them out one by one.

The Xuan paper is snow-white, and the ink stick is jet black.

She raised her wrist, and the brush tip, laden with thick ink, gently touched the snow-white paper.

It is Su Dongpo's "Ode to the Red Cliff".

"In the autumn of the year Renxu, on the sixteenth day of the seventh month, Su Shi and his guests went boating on the shore beneath the Red Cliff..."

The brushstrokes flowed like dragons and snakes, the ink dripping freely.

After finishing her essay, she threw down her pen, let out a long breath, and poured out all the pent-up emotions in her chest through her writing, feeling completely relieved.

Looking at the flowing handwriting on the paper, she nodded in satisfaction, feeling that her writing skills seemed to have improved again.

But this feeling of exhilaration didn't last long before it was completely washed away by a sense of emptiness welling up inside.

What's the use of writing it well?

Who can she share this joy with?

She carried her "masterpiece" and tiptoed to the study door.

Lu Yuan was wearing headphones and talking intently to Lü Lei on his computer screen.

Chen Xiaomiao stood at the door for a while, thought for a moment, and then decided not to make a sound to disturb her.

In fact, she also understood that Lu Yuan didn't understand calligraphy at all.

Anyway, as long as it's something she writes, Lu Yuan will give her a thumbs up and praise her, saying "Amazing!"
That feeling was completely different from when her master pointed out that a word "lacked strength" or "lacked character" back then.

She put down the "Ode to the Red Cliff" again, pursed her lips, and picked up her phone from the side.

The strong urge to share welled up inside me like bamboo shoots after a spring rain, and I couldn't suppress it.

As long as I don't show my face, I should be fine...

Chen Xiaomiao pondered for a moment, then opened her phone and carefully took a picture of the "Ode to the Red Cliff" she had just written.

Following the software's prompts, I randomly selected a seemingly powerful ancient-style song, edited it into a short video of about ten seconds, and uploaded it.

Title: Just practicing a little, what do you guys think?

After uploading the video, she felt a mix of excitement and apprehension, a little hopeful but also afraid of being laughed at. She would take out her phone every few minutes to check it.

After noon.

Chen Xiaomiao opened her phone again, staring at the lonely "20" likes on the video and the comment section that remained at 0. She felt a mix of emotions.

Was my writing not good enough?

Back in the day at the temple, everyone praised her for her talent and said she was a natural calligrapher.

Chen Xiaomiao was not convinced, so she spread out another sheet of Xuan paper, concentrated her mind, and wrote another "Return to Home" in a grand and magnificent style.

This time she took even better care of the photos, and even adjusted the lighting to make the ink on the paper look more textured.

As evening fell, the data remained dismal. Lying in bed before sleep, Chen Xiaomiao reluctantly turned on her phone one last time.

Two videos, fewer than three digits of views, a few dozen likes, and the comment section remains completely clean, without even a single passing punctuation mark.

Is my handwriting really that bad?

So bad that you can't even get a simple "it's ugly" in return?
She felt a lump in her throat and was about to sullenly turn off her phone when a small red dot suddenly popped up at the top of the screen, indicating that someone had commented on her video.

Chen Xiaomiao's heart skipped a beat, and she quickly clicked on it.

A person with the ID "Reincarnation of the Sage of Calligraphy" left a comment under her "Ode to the Red Cliff".

The comment is: "The brushstrokes are vigorous and powerful, the structure spacious and elegant, deeply capturing the spirit of Zhu Zhishan's wild cursive script while retaining the refined elegance of Wen Zhengming's running script. Such handwriting is rare these days!"

Zhu Zhishan... Wen Zhengming... these were all masters of the Wu School of calligraphy in the Ming Dynasty!
This guy is an expert!

The emptiness and sense of loss that Chen Xiaomiao felt vanished instantly.

Holding her phone, her fingers trembling, she replied: 【Thank you!】

After turning off her phone, Chen Xiaomiao turned to look at Lu Yuan, who was already lying down next to her, and whispered to him about sending the video.

Lu Yuan hummed in response, nodded, and said calmly, "I know."

Chen Xiaomiao was stunned: "How did you know?"

Lu Yuan turned over and hugged her, chuckling softly, "Two of your dozen or so fans are me."

"So, do you agree to me posting this?"

"Of course I support it!"

Since the hype is basically zero, let the girl have fun on her own; it's still a bit of entertainment.

If one day you really get lucky and create a viral hit that's too popular to handle, then you'll have to figure out how to deal with it yourself.

As long as she doesn't cause a big commotion and doesn't attract the attention of people with ulterior motives, Chen Xiaomiao will be fine.

Having received Lu Yuan's "approval," Chen Xiaomiao's last bit of concern vanished.

She snuggled into the man's arms, found a comfortable position, and fell into a deep sleep, completely satisfied.

For the next few days, Chen Xiaomiao was like a man possessed, writing one or two pieces of calligraphy every day, filming them, and posting them online.

The video's performance remained dismal, with fewer than a hundred likes.

But no matter what she posts, the "reincarnation of the Sage of Calligraphy" always appears immediately, offering professional and insightful comments from various angles such as brushwork, composition, and ink style. Occasionally, he will even point out the flaws in one or two characters, speaking with great clarity and eloquence.

Over time, Chen Xiaomiao came to regard him as a mentor and friend she had never met.

That day, Chen Xiaomiao posted a new video as usual, which was her copy of Zhao Mengfu's "Ode to the Goddess of the Luo River".

But a whole day passed, and even into the evening, that familiar ID still hadn't appeared.

Chen Xiaomiao felt empty inside. She refreshed the comment section several times, but there were only a few scattered "666" comments left by zombie fans automatically pushed by the system.

She was feeling a little down when a red dot suddenly popped up in her private message.

Upon opening the message, I saw it was from the "reincarnation of the Sage of Calligraphy": "[Girl, I'm so sorry, I just saw your masterpiece. I've been incredibly busy lately.]"

Chen Xiaomiao quickly replied: 【It's nothing, it's nothing.】

The reincarnation of the Sage of Calligraphy: [To be honest, I'm the vice president of the Haicheng Calligraphers Association, and my surname is Wang. The association is currently organizing an exhibition and competition for young calligraphy enthusiasts nationwide, and as one of the judges, I'm extremely busy.]

Upon seeing this, Chen Xiaomiao was filled with awe.

Goodness, he's an official!
【Hello, Chairman Wang!】

She quickly changed how she addressed him.

Haha, don't be shy. I've seen the works you posted; your skill is very solid, far surpassing many so-called 'young calligraphers' these days. So, I was wondering if you'd be interested in participating in this competition?

"A competition?" Chen Xiaomiao's heart skipped a beat, but then she felt a little apprehensive and politely declined.

Thank you for your kind offer, Chairman Wang, but I don't really like going out.

Don't worry about that.

Chairman Wang seemed to have anticipated Chen Xiaomiao's response.

To make it easier for participants from all over the country, the preliminary round of this competition will be judged online. You don't need to be present in person; just send your work in. There are also prizes for winning entries.

bonus!

Chen Xiaomiao's eyes lit up.

[Can I win an award too?]

Haha, girl, you're too modest!

The other person sent a laughing emoji.

With your skill level, winning a prize is practically guaranteed, let alone an award!

Your "Ode to the Red Cliff" is expansive in its style and powerful in its brushstrokes. That single stroke is particularly evocative, possessing the force of a "long spear and halberd." This piece alone is enough to make it stand out among all the other entries!

Being praised so highly by a "vice president" made Chen Xiaomiao's cheeks flush slightly, and her vanity was greatly satisfied.
She hesitated for a moment, but ultimately couldn't resist the temptation of the "bonus" and "honor" and agreed.

"Shall I give it a try?"

Okay! I'll send you the registration website right away.

Immediately afterwards, the other party sent a link.

Chen Xiaomiao clicked on it and found a fairly professional-looking website page with the words "Haicheng Youth Calligraphy Exhibition" in gold lettering, along with photos of various previous exhibitions.

She clicked on the registration portal as instructed, only to find that in addition to filling in her name, phone number, and mailing address, she also had to upload photos of the front and back of her ID card, as well as her bank card number and bank information.

Chen Xiaomiao started to have doubts, so she switched back to the private message interface and asked that Chairman Wang.

[President Wang, why do we need to fill out these forms?]

The other party responded almost instantly.

"Oh, this is the standard procedure. Uploading your ID card is to verify the participant's age and identity, ensuring fairness. As for bank information, it's just so they can send you the prize money later!"

The explanation sounds reasonable.

After spending the last few days together, in Chen Xiaomiao's mind, the "reincarnation of the Sage of Calligraphy" has become an image of an elder who understands calligraphy, has a high social standing, and possesses refined taste.

She simply couldn't imagine what such a person could lie to her about.

Lowering her guard, Chen Xiaomiao reopened the registration website, retrieved her ID card from the drawer, and clicked "confirm" on the "upload ID photo" option...

(End of this chapter)