Song Ergou followed and shouted: "This is already the biggest, smoothest, and cleanest table you can find."
Fang Zheng said helplessly: "Well, if this poor monk wants to write, he can do it anywhere. This table is actually a good table..."
"It's okay if you think it's okay. That one... Do you think it's okay? If it's okay, just hurry up. If it's not okay, there's no need to change it." Song Ergou shouted.
Ouyang Huazai didn't even look at Song Ergou. He patted the table and said to Yang Ping, "Okay, thank you for your hard work."
The table was ready, people from the village also came, and the scene became more lively, but some people were unhappy, and that was the people from the Calligraphy Association. Because Song Ergou knew that these people were from Ouyang Huazai's side
The man immediately led the villagers and displayed his hooligan style, making fun of him. One moment he was comparing the length of his trousers with this one, and the next he was comparing his hairstyle with that one, which made a group of literati almost cursed.
Here, Wang Yougui, Tan Juguo, Jiang Songyun and others arranged the competition venue, while Cai Fang, Jing Yan and others set up the cameras. The game was held in such a hurry in the ice and snow.
Fang Zheng originally planned to help, but was rejected. In Jiang Songyun's words, everyone can rest assured if they take action.
Fang Zheng rolled his eyes, it was just a matter of calligraphy, how could he cheat?
Fang Zheng was also happy to relax and just watched from the side.
Finally, a little girl came over, looked at Fang Zheng curiously, and asked, "Are you really good at writing?"
Fang Zheng looked at the little girl, nodded and said, "Amitabha, donor, this poor monk can't write."
"Uh...then, are you still competing in calligraphy with my dad?" The little girl was Ouyang Fenghua, looking at Fang Zheng blankly.
Fang Zheng was stunned. He didn't expect that this girl turned out to be the daughter of his enemy. But after all, he didn't look coldly at Ouyang Fenghua. He just smiled indifferently and said: "The calligraphy of the poor monk is too ugly, I am really embarrassed to use it."
Come out and say you can write."
Fang Zheng said this very calmly. He had seen real dragon and Buddha calligraphy. It was the Buddha's calligraphy. The majestic feeling was shocking! Compared with the Buddha's, his calligraphy was not as good-looking as a piece of shit.
Seeing what Fang Zheng said so frankly, Ouyang Fenghua actually believed it. He shook his head slightly and said, "You are so bad at writing, why do you have the nerve to hype it up? Hey... To be honest, I don't think much of you. My father is a famous calligrapher in the city.
, I have won first place in several calligraphy competitions in the city! There are hundreds of students..."
Ouyang Fenghua muttered a lot of things about Ouyang Fenghua's great calligraphy, while Fang Zheng listened with a smile the whole time.
He didn't know if he could win, but he just wanted to have fun anyway. It's so boring in this winter! As for winning or losing? It's good to win, as you gain fame. It doesn't matter if you lose. He is a great calligrapher, but he is unknown.
Little monk, who would laugh at him? Even if it was a joke, Fang Zheng wouldn’t know. Could it be that the other person would go to the temple gate and scold him?
Ouyang Fenghua was so happy when he said that, a calligrapher from the Montenegro Writers Association came over and said: "Fenghua, don't tell him. What can a monk from a small temple know about calligraphy? If he wins, I will
The table is eaten!”
Fang Zheng glanced at this man. He was not tall, about 1.7 meters tall. He had an average appearance, but he had a sense of arrogance. This arrogance was not only directed at Fang Zheng, but also when he looked at the people from the Songwu County Writers Association.
.Obviously he looks down on people from small places at all. He is an arrogant person with a passive skill of ridicule.
Fang Zheng smiled slightly and said nothing, but he remembered what this man said.
Ouyang Fenghua smiled and said: "Liang Yukuan, you said this yourself. Don't regret it when the time comes."
"A man, do what you say!" Liang Yukuan said confidently, and then said to Fang Zheng: "Little monk, if I were you, I would close the door and not participate in this competition. Although there is a bad reputation for skipping the competition, it is still better than the competition.
Losing is better."
The Clay Bodhisattva still has a certain amount of anger, let alone a young man with strong temperament. Fang Zheng smiled slightly and said: "There is no need for the donor to worry about it. The donor should prepare some stomach strengthening and digestion tablets."
"My stomach is fine, what do I need?" Liang Yukuan asked instead without responding.
Fang Zheng smiled and said nothing, but Ouyang Fenghua laughed and pulled Liang Yukuan away.
Soon, preparations for the competition were over. As the president of the Heishan City Calligraphy Association, Jiang Songyun was naturally qualified to be a referee. As a senior and the president of the Songwu County Calligraphy Association, Sun Xianying was also qualified to be a referee.
As for the others, they are just watching the fun.
For such a referee system, it doesn't matter to Founder. Although Fatty has objections, it's useless. There are specialties in the art, and no one else can be the referee.
While they were talking, Fang Zheng and Ouyang Huazai were both brought to the table. Sure enough, rice paper had been spread out on the table, and pens, inks, paper and inkstones had been placed.
On Ouyang Huazai's side, Cui Jin was responsible for polishing the ink. Ouyang Huazai stood proudly with his hands behind his back, looking up at the sky, as if there was no one else but himself in his eyes.
Seeing this scene, many people nodded secretly and commented: "He is indeed a calligraphy master in the city. His every move and demeanor are indeed extraordinary. It feels a bit like being cold at a high place."
"I can't say that it's hard to live in high places. After all, there are masters who write better than Mr. Ouyang. But here, no one can compare to him. It's true."
"Hey, I just want to know if the little monk has the courage to continue writing after seeing Mr. Ouyang's words."
"I guess if Mr. Ouyang makes one stroke, he will have to admit defeat."
…
Everyone said they were muttering, but in fact the voice was quite loud. Both Fang Zheng and Ouyang Huazai heard it clearly. Logically speaking, noisy things are taboo in calligraphy. However, Jiang Songyun, the referee, did not mean to stop him. Instead, he looked indifferent, as if he had no intention of stopping.
Hearing this, Sun Changying frowned, hesitated several times, and finally said nothing.
It's not that Fang Zheng doesn't know calligraphy. Seeing this scene, he felt a little cold: "These people can't treat a small calligraphy competition fairly. With such a state of mind, it would be weird if there could be a master. No wonder there are no masters in China. I feel sick."
Now, you are really sick!"
However, Fangzheng was not affected, there was no gain or loss, and naturally there was no pressure. He stood there quietly, quietly waiting for the competition to begin.
Fang Zheng wears a moon-white monk's robe. The moon-white monk's robe can amplify his own good mentality and temperament. His heart is peaceful, and the temperament exuded by the whole person standing there is completely different from Ouyang Huazai!
Ouyang Huazai is sharp and sharp, while Fang Zheng is upright and peaceful. Anyone who sees him will subconsciously feel peaceful and feel comfortable and calm from the heart.