Suddenly, Jiusixuan became quiet, the wind did not flow here, and the servants also stood like a tree. No matter whether they looked from inside to outside or from outside, it was quiet.
"Uncle!" Mo Lingfeng's cry was so loud that it made people's hearts beat violently in their chests, "I wrote!"
Zhao Shiheng immediately showed a smile and stretched out his hand to touch her head: "Leifeng has become sensible, and uncle is happy."
Mo Lingfeng pointed and told Zhao Shiheng which character was written by him, which character was written by Cheng Ting, and which character was written by Wu Jin.
Zhao Shiheng was very patient and followed her fingers one by one: "You wrote it very well."
Cheng Ting stretched out his head and couldn't help but said: "Seriously?"
Zhao Shiheng glanced at him and his face changed instantly. Cheng Ting shuddered and silently retracted his head.
Mo Lingfeng asked again: "How about the two of them?"
Zhao Shiheng singled out Cheng Ting's cursive writing: "Not good."
Then he singled out Wu Jin’s block letters: “The worst.”
Cheng Ting's eyes widened with disbelief on his face. He quietly poked Mo Lingfeng's back with his finger and whispered, "Why is the gentleman you hired so blind?"
This is not a state school. There are many students and few teachers. The room was already quiet. What he said immediately reached Zhao Shiheng's ears.
Zhao Shiheng looked at him condescendingly: "Do you think I made a mistake?"
There was a calm darkness in his eyes, as if he had seen the best in the world, and then suddenly fell into the abyss. After experiencing the two scenery, he could no longer make waves when looking at anyone or anything.
Cheng Ting made his scalp numb at the first sight, and waved his hands repeatedly: "No, sir, you are really discerning, much better than the teachers in the state school."
Zhao Shiheng shook his head and smiled, and asked Wu Jin: "Do you also think I am blind?"
Wu Jin was also surprised, but when he heard Zhao Shiheng speak, he carefully distinguished it. Zhao Shiheng did not mean to embarrass him, but really thought so, so he said seriously: "The student is ignorant and does not understand his meaning. Please enlighten me sir."
Zhao Shiheng stared at his face and saw that his face was always respectful and humble, his eyes and heart were connected, transparent and bright, and his demeanor was pure and upright even he didn't know, and he was secretly satisfied.
"Since you have already written the characters, let's talk about the characters in the first class." Zhao Shiheng walked to the statue of Saint Kong and sat down on the rose chair.
On the chair where he sat high, three students were sitting on the ground, looking up at him, which made his face become more and more unpredictable, uncertain and majestic under the candlelight.
"Wu Jin's handwriting is too timid and he doesn't dare to write. He is constrained everywhere, so he can only write small characters and dare not write large characters. However, the small characters do not have the physical momentum of the large characters."
"Even though Wu Jin is diligent and writes very beautifully, he still can't hide his timidity. If he takes one out of a hundred to solve the test, he can pass it. But if he wants to take the provincial test, it will be difficult. The reason is that
The paper and pen were so inferior that he became timid about writing. "
His tone was calm, neither soft nor serious, but it was deafening, like thunder exploding above Wu Jin's head.
In the state school, his writing was quite good, and no lecturer ever mentioned this matter.
And Zhao Shiheng could see the shortcomings in his words at a glance, and even explained the reasons clearly.
Zhao Shiheng took out a Xuancheng Zhuge brush from the penholder mountain on the square table and showed it to the three people: "Everyone says that the white house comes from the public minister, but this is not true. Use this broom to add the power and subtlety to the writing, just like using chicken feathers."
If the pen is less than two hundred words, it will be defeated."
This time Cheng Ting thought that Zhao Shiheng was not blind, but was more knowledgeable than the teachers in Zhouxue, so he boldly asked: "What should the word be written in?"
"Ink." Zhao Shiheng said as he picked up his pen.
Wu Jin immediately stood up, walked to the square table, rolled up his wide sleeves, straightened his posture, held the ink stick straight, and rubbed it vertically.
After the ink was ready, he spread out the paper, Zhao Shiheng dipped his pen in the ink, and wrote the word "田" in block letters.
The characters are large and neat, like the branches of a regular tree, straight and unbent. You can tell at a glance that they are good characters.
Zhao Shiheng put away the pen and told Wu Jin: "There is a carving knife in the flower hall. Ask someone to fetch it to remove the paper and store the ink."
Wu Jin nodded in agreement, and when walking out, Mo Lingfeng couldn't hold himself back, jumped up, ran to Wu Jin's legs, followed him in and out, and almost tripped Wu Jin.
Cheng Ting was eager to try, but he didn't dare to stand up. He could only stretch his neck to an extremely long position and watched Wu Jin carve the words meticulously. When he saw that the words were not damaged at all, he also breathed a sigh of relief.
Zhao Shiheng casually ordered his students: "Put out those two candles."
Cheng Ting jumped up to three feet high, ran to put out the candle, and then stepped forward quickly, leaning against Wu Jin with Mo Lingfeng on the left and right.
There was only one candle left in the room, and the light immediately became dim. Only the candle on the incense table gave off a grand light.
Zhao Shiheng held the carved word "田" and placed it behind the lamp. The word and his shadow were cast on the white wall. Then, he held the word and moved back, and the black shadow on the wall became smaller and smaller.
.
Mo and Cheng both tilted their heads with confusion on their faces.
But Wu Jin stared at the words for a moment, his eyes shining - Zhao Shiheng's regular script is very exquisite.
A simple word, reduced from big to fingernail size, the turning, hook and other strokes are still clearly visible and dense!
Zhao Shiheng took away his magical power, ordered them to light candles, and asked them to sit back: "When writing big characters, you should look like small characters, and when you write small characters, you should look like big characters. That is good calligraphy."
He opened his hands, flicked his long sleeves, placed his elbows on the square table, supported his forehead with his hands, and sat with his legs crossed: "Today, you two college students will practice calligraphy. There are copybooks all over the wall."
Cheng Ting was speechless: "No, no? What about so many classes?"
The long classes he had to attend every day in the state school made him feel sleepy, while the Mofu residence was so simple that he was scared - in the near future, he might become illiterate.
Zhao Shiheng didn't take it seriously: "It's useless if you don't learn it."
Wu Jin took a deep breath to suppress his agitated and full emotions.
On the last day of Zhouxue, he made a special trip to see the three tripods of various subjects recorded in Zhouxue. Among them, when he mentioned Zhao Shiheng, there was only one sentence: "The world's capable people have finished."
Since Zhao Shiheng said it was a useless technique, then the technique he wanted to teach must be unheard of.
Wu Jin calmed down and began to practice calligraphy. From time to time, there was a sound in his ears. It was Zhao Shiheng teaching Mo Lingfeng the "Three Character Classic". Gradually, he fell into a trance and the sound became blurred.
The pen is a broom, the ink is Pan's ink, the paper is green paper, and the inkstone is a clay inkstone. They are all good things.
He was copying a pair of Liu Gong's regular script hanging on the wall.
After finishing the post, he looked at his handwriting carefully and found that he was indeed too cramped and felt like he was curled up.
After reading it, he took a closer look at Liu Gong's character, figured out its "side, sweep, peck, lift", and then corrected it.
After an unknown amount of time, he turned his sore wrist and suddenly smelled the aroma of food on the tip of his nose, and a series of long rumblings suddenly erupted from his stomach.