The girls chattered noisily. Qi Leyun withdrew half her attention from the corridor pillar where Third Young Master Xie was and instructed the maid: “Go watch. See what kind of nonsense Chu Zhao can write.”
……
……
Even more people gathered around. It wasn’t as quiet as before, and with some maids squeezing through—they couldn’t really understand what they were seeing and kept asking others: “How is the writing?”
The others looked at the girl sitting properly and writing, nodding: “The small regular script is passable. She has studied it carefully.”
Just passable? The maids breathed sighs of relief. Standing on tiptoe, they watched as Chu Zhao finished one sheet and set it aside. The characters on it were neat and elegant. Indeed, nothing special—about the same as what their own young ladies wrote.
“Oh.” Someone nearby suddenly said, “She’s switched to a different calligraphy style.”
The others also noticed and couldn’t help pressing forward. Those in front were displeased at being pushed: “Don’t push!” “You stepped on my foot.”
The scene became slightly chaotic.
Chu Ke couldn’t help but look up. With this look, he realized so many people had come. Looking again at Chu Zhao across from him, she had already finished one sheet and was concentratedly writing the second one—
Calligraphy wasn’t about who wrote faster!
Chu Ke cursed inwardly, gripping his brush and speeding up. More discussion sounded in his ears, and what he heard mentioned was still that girl, that girl.
“This girl’s running script has quite good foundation.”
“This girl is not very old, but her brushwork is vigorous. She’s put in effort too.”
“Oh! This girl has switched calligraphy styles again—it’s cursive script!”
……
……
“I don’t believe it at all—what cursive script could she know!” Qi Leyun jumped to her feet. She glanced at the corridor pillar—the pillar wasn’t going to run away. She withdrew the remaining half of her attention as well and pushed aside the maid. “I’m going to look!”
The girls who had long been unable to contain their curiosity also rose one after another. The group clattered downstairs, their jewels, precious ornaments, brocade, and fine clothing immediately becoming another spectacle.
More gazes looked over, then followed them toward the second floor.
Deng Yi shook his pot—it was already empty. He raised his hand to call a shop attendant. The shop attendants were all watching the second floor, pointing and speaking quietly with smiles. Deng Yi called twice before a shop attendant came over.
“Another pot of wine,” he said, pointing at the empty seat across from him. “Put it all on this person’s tab.”
……
……
Having finished four sheets of paper, Chu Zhao looked at Chu Ke across from her still writing furiously and reminded him: “Brother, calligraphy isn’t about who writes the most.”
Chu Ke raised his head. Somehow his hair had become messy from writing, and with his bruised and swollen face, he looked even more disheveled.
He looked around. The gazes from all around finally fell on him.
“Brother Ke.” A playmate pointed somewhat awkwardly at his paper. “This character—you wrote it wrong.”
That was because he had withdrawn his brush too quickly. Chu Ke angrily slapped his brush on the table and reached out: “Let me see!”
What Chu Zhao had written was no longer on the table but was being passed around and viewed by the people around them.
On the table were only six or seven sheets of paper he had written scattered about. The onlookers had no interest in picking them up to look and only bent down to glance—
How bullying!
Liang Qiang wasn’t so bullying. He snatched a sheet of paper from someone else’s hands and handed it to Chu Ke: “Look, your younger sister is the same as you—both can write cursive script.”
Chu Ke looked at the paper nearly slapped against his face. The bold and flowing characters on it stung his eyes.
The damned girl hadn’t written a single character wrong.