My stepmother forced me to donate bone marrow, so I retaliated by slapping my scumbag father in the

Shen Ze glanced at the calligraphy copybook on the table, his tone gentle.

"Calligraphy is not just about a single stroke."

"Before putting pen to paper, you must have the overall structure of the calligraphy in your mind. Where is light, where is heavy, where is restrained, and where is extended, they should all correspond to each other."

He picked up a brush and wrote a few strokes on the Xuan paper next to him.

"For example, this turn cannot be forced by the wrist alone. When the brush tip reaches this point, the force has already begun to change. First, gather the brush, then turn it, and finally spread it out again, so that the rhythm will not be broken."

Zhao Gang stared intently at the tip of the pen, even his breathing became soft.

A few strokes, seemingly simple, contain extremely complex variations.

Especially in the instant the brush tip turns, the ink marks are not stiff at all, and the transition between them is extremely natural.

Zhao Gang has practiced calligraphy for over thirty years and is also the vice president of the Daxia Calligraphers Association, having seen countless works by renowned calligraphers.

But this was the first time he had seen Shen Ze's brushstroke technique so clearly.

"I see!"

Zhao Gang suddenly realized: "When I used to deal with this, I always wanted to finish it in one go, no wonder I tended to be impatient at the turning points."

Shen Ze nodded: "If you only pursue coherence, you will lose the sense of depth."

"There's still the final strike."

"The momentum has been released, but the end cannot continue to exert force, otherwise the whole piece of calligraphy will lose its balance."

After he finished speaking, he added the last stroke to the paper.

The stroke first rises and then falls, the ink changing from heavy to light, and finally settling steadily at the end.

Zhao Gang felt a chill run down his spine.

The problem that Shen Ze pointed out was precisely the most obvious flaw in his calligraphy!

What shocked him even more was that Shen Ze did not directly criticize his work, but instead demonstrated the difference in a few strokes.

This insight and skill far surpasses his!

"Been taught a lesson."

Zhao Gang said earnestly, "Mr. Shen, your words today will at least save me from taking a few more detours."

"Uncle Zhao, you're too kind. We're just exchanging ideas."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Gang's face flushed even more.

He had just wanted to teach Shen Ze the basics, but now he was the one receiving guidance from him.

Given the vast difference in their skill levels, how can this be considered a true exchange of ideas?

It was clearly because Shen Ze was considering his feelings that he spoke so politely!

Yu Yehua stood to the side, grinning from ear to ear.

"Old Zhao, what did I just say?"

"Am I a son-in-law who can withstand your test?"

Zhao Gang gave him a helpless look: "You knew Mr. Shen had this level of skill all along?"

"I just found out too."

Yu Yehua replied confidently, "But what's so strange about Xiaoze being so skilled in medicine and cooking, and having reached the level of a master in calligraphy?"

Zhao Gang was speechless for a moment.

Isn't that strange?

An international calligraphy master in his twenties—you won't find another one like him in the entire Great Xia!

He looked back at the calligraphy copybook on the table, becoming more and more reluctant to look away.

"Mr. Shen, may I take this calligraphy with me?"

Zhao Gang volunteered, "I want to take it back and study it carefully."

"sure."

Shen Ze didn't care about a piece of calligraphy he had casually written.

Yu Yehua immediately clutched the calligraphy copybook protectively in his hands: "Wait a minute!"

"Old Zhao, this was written by Xiao Ze at my house. Why should you take it away?"

"Didn't I already give you that calligraphy piece?"

Zhao Gang pointed to his own work: "Let's exchange."

"Can your painting compare to Ozawa's?"

"Who just said my calligraphy is priceless?"

"That was just now."

Yu Yehua said seriously, "Now that I've seen Xiaoze's calligraphy, yours can only be put aside for now."

Zhao Gang was speechless.

Yu Binglan couldn't help but laugh and said, "Dad, Shen Ze can write more for you in the future. Let Uncle Zhao take this one back to study."

"Binglan is still the most sensible one."

Zhao Gang immediately picked up the calligraphy copybook from the side: "Old Yu, your son-in-law has already agreed, don't be so stingy."

Yu Yehua looked reluctant to part with her.

But considering that Zhao Gang had indeed been obsessed with calligraphy for many years, he finally let go.

"You can take it, but you must keep it safe."

"rest assured."

Zhao Gang carefully placed the calligraphy copybook aside, afraid that the ink might not be completely dry.

That evening, Zhao Gang bid farewell to the Yu family.

Before leaving, he carefully rolled up the calligraphy copybook and wrapped it in paper, taking great care throughout the process.

The next morning, he took a plane back to Longdu.

As soon as he got off the plane, Zhao Gang did not go back to Longdu University. Instead, he took out his phone and contacted Zhao Guoli's secretary.

His uncle, Zhao Guoli, is one of the few people in Longdu who truly stand at the highest level.

Given Zhao Guoli's position, the number of things he needs to handle on a daily basis is unimaginable.

Countless wealthy people and family leaders in Longdu wanted to find an opportunity to meet him.

But very few people are actually qualified to have contact with him.

Even Sun Qingliang, the head of the Sun family with assets approaching one trillion, did not have the authority to directly contact Zhao Guoli.

Although Zhao Gang is a relative, he still needs to make an appointment with the secretary in advance if he wants to see his uncle.

As soon as the call connected, he immediately said, "Secretary Chen, I'd like to see Uncle."

"Director Zhao, Mr. Zhao has a very full schedule today."

The secretary checked the schedule: "There are 20 minutes free at 5:30 this afternoon, you can come over."

"Okay, I'll be there on time."

At 5:20 p.m., Zhao Gang arrived at Zhao Guoli's office.

After his identity was verified, he was led by his secretary into a simply furnished office.

Zhao Guoli was in his early sixties, wearing a dark Zhongshan suit, and his hair was already somewhat gray.

There were several documents piled on the table. He looked down at the last page, signed his name, and then looked up at Zhao Gang.

"Why are you in such a hurry to see me? What happened?"

"Uncle, I met a young man yesterday."

Zhao Guoli picked up his teacup: "For someone to make you come all this way, they must be someone special."

"His name is Shen Ze, and he's only in his early twenties."

"Shen Ze?"

Zhao Guoli felt the name sounded familiar, but didn't ask further: "What's so special about him?"

"His calligraphy skills far surpass mine."

Zhao Guoli stopped drinking his tea: "In your twenties, your calligraphy skills far surpass yours? When did you learn to exaggerate?"

Zhao Gang didn't argue, but directly took out the calligraphy copybook he had brought: "Uncle, please take a look first."

Zhao Guoli is a top calligrapher in China.

He has practiced calligraphy for decades, and his works have been exhibited in many important exhibitions at home and abroad.

However, due to his special status, he rarely left his calligraphy in public, and he did not participate in any commercial auctions.

Hearing Zhao Gang so highly praise a young man in his twenties, he couldn't help but feel a little skeptical.

Calligraphy requires years of accumulated experience.

Even with the best talent, how much skill can one have at the age of twenty?

Zhao Guoli took the calligraphy copybook and slowly unfolded it.

His casual expression vanished the moment he saw the first word.

His gaze followed the strokes of the brush little by little, and the teacup in his hand was placed back on the table.

The strokes begin steadily and flow naturally.

Each character has its own structure, yet the whole work is a unified whole.

The variations in the pressure of the brushstrokes are extremely obvious, yet there is not a trace of deliberate showing off.

The further you look, the stronger the momentum of the characters becomes.

But in the last few strokes, that power was completely withdrawn.

Be able to let go, and be able to rein it in.

These six words are simple to say, but very few people can truly put them into practice!