The entire exchange devolved into chaos.
A group of esteemed cultural figures, the crème de la crème of the arts, were huddled together, surrounding two young girls. They marveled at the calligraphy scrolls in their hands, their exclamations of awe echoing through the room. They looked so unseasoned, it was impossible to believe they were esteemed figures who had dedicated decades to their cultural pursuits.
Su Yu, who had written the calligraphy, was pushed to the periphery by these engrossed elders. Holding Lin Yanyu’s small hand, he stood frozen, utterly bewildered.
Gong Juren, holding the live streaming equipment, panned across the crowd, giving close-ups of each elder’s face. The viewers in the live stream chat were thoroughly amused.
“Haha, these old guys are hilarious, crowding around two girls and pointing fingers. Isn’t that totally undignified?”
“Perhaps, the more accomplished people are, the more profound their reactions. Outsiders like us just see that the characters are beautiful, but we don’t understand why.”
“If I hadn’t seen him write it with my own eyes, I would never have believed that such magnificent calligraphy could be produced by someone barely in their teens.”
“Ting Yu has gone all out again!!!”
As the live stream audience chattered, the cultural elders, gathered around, not only donned their reading glasses but some even produced magnifying glasses.
“The skill is seasoned, the strokes flow like water. I’ve truly gained insight today!”
“Such elegant brushwork, a perfect blend of strength and softness, with concentrated strokes. I’ve studied calligraphy and painting for decades, and this is the first time I’ve seen someone write Xing Shu (running script) with such exquisite precision!”
“In this era, anyone who can write with such spirit and charm is likely none other than the Calligraphy Sage, Shen Yuanshan!”
Someone mentioned Shen Yuanshan. All eyes turned to Shen Lingyun, who stood nearby. The Shen family was a renowned calligraphy lineage in China, passed down through generations. The current Calligraphy Sage, Shen Yuanshan, was Shen Lingyun’s father.
“Ahem… What are you looking at? I didn’t refute it!” Shen Lingyun’s face flushed with embarrassment. How could this be? How was this possible? Xing Shu written by someone in their teens? What had he been practicing for decades? Shen Lingyun felt utterly disoriented.
His son, Shen Chun, wasn’t faring any better. He had initially thought that Su Yu’s prowess in couplets and poetry wouldn’t affect him. But unexpectedly, he had been dealt a fatal blow in the calligraphy segment. Shen Chun staggered a couple of steps, nearly falling. Wu Xiaomeng, standing beside him, steadied him. Their eyes met, and they saw a shared sense of misfortune in each other’s gaze.
“Chun ge, don’t dwell on it too much. Try to think positively,” Wu Xiaomeng said softly.
“I… I can handle it,” Shen Chun forced himself to stand steady. It was a matter of inferior skill; losing was losing. He just found it incredibly difficult to accept that he had lost to Su Yu. After all, in his impression, Su Yu was merely a music producer. His talent in poetry was somewhat understandable, given the numerous ancient-style songs he had released. But to be this formidable in calligraphy, it made him feel like a complete failure.
“Awesome!” Gong Juren subtly turned the camera towards Shen Chun, a smug satisfaction bubbling within him.
If Gong Juren was the most composed person at the scene, then Zhou Sisi was the second most composed. She had some understanding of poetry, but absolutely no concept of calligraphy. After Su Yu and his group were pushed aside, she had approached Gong Juren.
“I notice you’re a bit… unusual today,” Zhou Sisi whispered in Gong Juren’s ear.
“Nonsense, how am I unusual? I’m perfectly normal.” Gong Juren’s eyes darted away. With that, he turned the live streaming equipment and walked towards the cultural elders. Zhou Sisi watched his retreating back, let out a soft huff, and stamped her foot.
…
Half an hour later, order was gradually restored to the venue. The cultural elders and experts dispersed, their faces filled with contentment. The two girls, who had been the center of attention, finally breathed a sigh of relief.
“Su Yu.” Shen Lingyun, leading a group of people, approached Su Yu. “Is the story within your ‘Preface to the Orchid Pavilion’ fictional?” As an expert in ancient culture, he hadn’t heard of such a gathering in historical records.
“That’s correct, it’s fictional,” Su Yu nodded. The gathering described in that article was indeed a fabrication in this world.
“Using the past to illustrate the present, borrowing the description of ancient gatherings and the joy of their festivities to embody the spirit and ideas of our exchange meeting is far more brilliant than direct descriptions,” Shen Lingyun said, his face etched with admiration. Su Yu simply nodded calmly. He had long anticipated Shen Lingyun’s over-interpretations. The most powerful trait of cultured individuals was their tendency to extrapolate. The more brilliant your performance, the more they would imagine.
“Announce it,” said Wu Tian, the president of the Poetry Association, with a deep voice. While he appeared calm on the surface, he was inwardly ecstatic. Now that Shen Lingyun’s son, Shen Chun, had lost, he felt a sense of balance. This was how it should be. His daughter shouldn’t be the only one getting trounced. This was fairness.
“Alright, I declare the current Cultural Exchange Meeting successfully concluded. For the calligraphy segment, we have selected Su Yu’s ‘Preface to the Orchid Pavilion’ as the introductory piece!” Shen Lingyun, though he wanted to choose his son Shen Chun’s work, had no choice. The quality of the works spoke for itself. Su Yu’s ‘Preface to the Orchid Pavilion’ completely overshadowed Shen Chun’s. Let alone Shen Chun, even Shen Lingyun himself couldn’t write such flowing and elegant Xing Shu. In such a situation, how could he choose otherwise? Of course, he had to choose Su Yu.
“So, Su Yu won all three rounds?”
“Our cultural gathering was completely dominated by an outsider…”
“It’s unavoidable, who here is his match?”
“We initially thought this year’s exchange meeting would showcase Wu Xiaomeng and Shen Chun, but we never expected Su Yu to emerge midway.”
“Did you call that midway? He’s been slaughtering from the very beginning right to the end…”
“Although I can’t quite accept it yet, it doesn’t stop me from saying this: Su Yu is awesome!”
“Crude words, but I like it! Su Yu is awesome!!”
“Su Yu is awesome!”
A wave of cheers erupted from the audience. There was no other option. Whether it was reciting poetry, composing couplets, or calligraphy, Su Yu was overwhelmingly superior, so much so that it instilled a deep sense of powerlessness. When everyone was convinced, only acceptance remained.
At this moment, Shen Lingyun rubbed his hands and stammered, “This…”
“President Shen, please speak your mind,” Su Yu smiled.
“Then I’ll be direct. Su Yu, are you interested in joining our Calligraphy Association?” Shen Lingyun asked, looking up with anticipation in his eyes. Su Yu was taken aback by the invitation. He had never expected to be asked to join the Calligraphy Association. These associations were not easily joined. For the Calligraphy Association, one typically needed to win large competitions, or have the recommendation of a renowned master. And there was a more pragmatic reason: joining an association would lead to a terrifying increase in the value of one’s works.
“Su Yu, are you interested in joining our Poetry Association?” Wu Tian stepped forward, cast a glare at Shen Lingyun, and also extended an olive branch to Su Yu. Faced with invitations from both presidents, Su Yu hesitated. He was primarily concerned about whether joining would involve a lot of complex and tedious affairs.