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After eating, Lao Jin started.

"Are those lines of poetry really written by you?"

Zhong Ming gnawed on the chicken leg: "Yes, I really wrote it."

"Okay, even if you wrote it, you have to know that the difficulty of writing "Manuscript for the Nephew" is completely different from writing those few poems! Young people are just too ignorant." Lao Jin picked up his chopsticks and said, "I am young. When I was young, I thought I could write such famous articles as "Manuscripts for the Memorial to My Nephew", "Preface to the Collection of Orchid Pavilion" and "Self-narrative Posts", but I found out as soon as I started writing. Compared with some calligraphers, it is far behind!"

Old Jin paused, and then said: "You have a good background, but this mentality is not good. Pride and complacency is a big taboo in learning calligraphy. What we calligraphers pay attention to, we must be modest! Otherwise, it is very likely to limit your future development of."

Lao Jin babbled on for a long time, Zhong Ming could tell that the old man's words were sincere, and he was indeed persuading the younger generation.

But the key point is that Zhong Ming's calligraphy skills are acquired by eating fruit, and it does not conform to the general rules that Lao Jin said...

But looking at Lao Jin's attitude, he was too warm-hearted, and Zhong Ming felt very sorry for making him spend so much futile effort.

Seeing that the meal was almost finished, Zhong Ming said: "If not, I'll write the "Manuscript for the Memorial to My Nephew" here. You can see my level and give me some pointers, okay?"

"Write here?" Lao Jin was taken aback, this is the teaching staff cafeteria!

Zhong Ming nodded: "Yes, I carry both the drawing board and the pressure-sensitive pen with me."

Lao Jin looked as if he hated iron and steel: "How can you use a pressure-sensitive pen to write such a famous article? Hey, forget it, anyway, you just write casually, that's fine, then you can write here , just to let you know that not everyone can write a famous article like "The Manuscript for the Nephew."

Soon, the meal was over.

Zhou Sen took all the dinner plates away, Zhong Ming took out a paper towel and wiped the table, and took the hand-painted tablet and pressure-sensitive pen out of the bag.

Lao Jin had an expression of "I just quietly watched you pretend to be aggressive".

This is the faculty cafeteria, and the table is a dining table. In Lao Jin's opinion, this height is definitely not suitable. What Zhong Ming used was a pressure-sensitive pen and a hand-painted tablet, which were naturally shortened by various objective conditions.

For example, if Lao Jin wrote "Manuscript for Memorial to Nephew", he must have all the pen, ink, paper and inkstone ready, and he had to find the most comfortable and suitable desk before writing.

In the end, Zhong Ming was fine, he could deal with any conditions.

Zhong Ming unfolded the hand-painted tablet and placed it on the table.

Then I picked up the pressure-sensitive pen, opened a blank document, and wrote two random strokes first, warming up my hands.

He remembered the authenticity of the "Manuscript for the Nephew" in the pile of calligraphic fruits very clearly. Not to mention the shape of each character, even the way of smearing, I remember it clearly!

Because famous calligraphy works such as "Manuscript for the Nephew" and "Preface to the Collection of Lanting" are originally part of calligraphy ability, and they are naturally included in the fruits of calligraphy.

However, Zhong Ming didn't dare to start writing immediately. "Manuscript of Memorial to Nephew" is no different than others. The emotion of this writing is consistent, and it must be written in one breath, without pause in the middle.

It is true that the hand-painted board can be withdrawn, and can be deleted and modified at will, but that is too deliberate, and it is not easy to reproduce the connotation of "Manuscript for the Nephew".

Lao Jin watched Zhong Ming brew his emotions, watched him write a few words on the hand-painted board at random, and then deleted them all.

"Sure, this kid still has some basic skills. It seems that he really wrote those poems." Lao Jin said silently in his heart.

Finally, Zhong Ming put pen to paper!

"In the first year of Weiqianyuan, Renchen on the third day of Gengwushuo in the ninth month of the Eighth Year of the Eighth Century..."

Zhong Ming wrote very fast, still sketching and scribbling in the middle, but without too much hesitation, one word after another, brushing a little bit!

Lao Jin stared wide-eyed!

Zhou Sen was also watching, frowning.

what!

Zhou Sen only saw the words written by Zhong Ming. Many of the words were deformed, and they were often sketched and deleted. The second line was written incorrectly. The place is painted in black circles!

This made Zhou Sen, a patient with mild obsessive-compulsive disorder, feel uncomfortable all over. Didn't it mean writing a ready-made manuscript? How could he still write typos? ?

Are all you calligraphers so casual?

Of course, Zhou Sen didn't know calligraphy at all, and couldn't even understand the specific characters written by Zhong Ming, so he could only look at the traces of smearing and deletion.

But he glanced at Lao Jin, and found that Lao Jin wanted to stretch his neck to the hand-painted board, and his eyes were wide open, as if he had seen a ghost.

Zhou Sen secretly wondered, is this well written, or is it not good?

Looking at Lao Jin's expression, this is not so well written!

Just as Zhou Sen wanted to ask, Lao Jin found out and gave him a hard look, which meant: Don't make a sound! Didn't you see it was written!

Zhou Sen choked back the words that reached his throat in an instant.

Soon, Zhong Ming finished writing.

"Alas, Shang Xiang!"

Of course, there's no punctuation, but the mood is clearly on display.

By the last two lines, the handwriting was already extremely messy and scribbled. If Zhou Sen could barely recognize a word or two in the previous content, then by the last two lines, Zhou Sen was completely reading from heaven and couldn’t recognize a single word. come out.

Lao Jin was silent for two seconds without speaking.

He knew he was done, but he was still staring nervously.

He was verifying the details in his memory one by one!

In this world, there are many calligraphers who specialize in the textual research of the "Manuscript for the Nephew", where there is smearing, where there is deletion, and even the shape of a certain character, these have their own opinions!

Writing the "Manuscript for the Memorial to My Nephew" does not mean that I can write it neatly and neatly in block letters, that is what elementary school students do.

The calligraphers in this world are pursuing the perfect reproduction of the original appearance of the "Manuscript for the Nephew", which is why so many people research it and restore it through various clues!

Now, Lao Jin is staring at this "Manuscript of Memorial to Nephew", feeling a little dazed in his consciousness.

In my impression, the descriptions of the "Manuscript for the Nephew" in those ancient books have all been verified in this "Manuscript for the Worship of the Nephew"!

"Chen Yi of the Yuan Dynasty once said that the word 'destruction' is like a pillar barrier pressing down on the bottom of Mount Tai, the last word 'zai' is like the rolling sun of light clouds, and the word '饭' is like a startled dragon entering the sting... So this is the meaning?"

Lao Jin looked at Zhong Ming: "Can I take a closer look?"

Zhong Ming laughed, and pushed the hand-painted board in front of Lao Jin.

Lao Jin's hands trembled slightly, and he clicked to save several times, for fear that he would accidentally lose this "Manuscript for Memorial to Nephew".

While watching, he gestured with his fingers and muttered words.

"So that's how it is... so this word was written like this!"

"Even the alteration here looks natural!"

"Perfect, perfect..."

Lao Jin muttered something, which confused Zhou Sen.

What do you mean, this is almost painted into a hornet's nest, how can it be perfect...

Sure enough, ordinary people don't understand the world of calligraphers...

Lao Jin suddenly slapped the table: "I want to buy the electronic version of this "Manuscript for the Memorial to My Nephew"! How much is it!"