Wang Daochun snorted coldly. "No matter how bad your character is, you're still better than a traitor. We don't welcome you here!"
When Huang Yu heard that, his face darkened. He snorted coldly. "Wang Daochun, don't randomly accuse me. I'm not a traitor! To be precise, I'm an internationalist. There are no national boundaries in my heart. Calligraphy shouldn't have national boundaries either. It's because your horizons are too narrow, not because I'm too broad. In my heart, I'm a perfect internationalist. I don't belong to China, nor do I like China. I just happened to be born in China. "
"Ugh …" A retching sound suddenly sounded, interrupting Huang Yu's words.
Huang Yu frowned and saw a young monk retching while clutching the table.
The old monk asked softly, "Disciple, what's wrong? Haven't you always been in good health? I've never seen you vomit in your entire life. "
The young monk waved his hand. "Master, I'm afraid I can't take it anymore. This is the first time I've encountered such a shameless person. I can't take it anymore."
"Learn from me. When you see something disgusting, think of something beautiful," said the old monk.
The young monk said, "No, if you think of something beautiful, the difference is too great. It's easier to vomit."
The old monk said, "Try thinking of dog sh * t."
"Sigh … Dog sh * t is indeed useful. It's only slightly better than the previous one. The difference isn't too great." The young monk stopped vomiting.
Huang Yu's face turned as black as charcoal as he said angrily, "Wang Daochun, how can you receive such an uncultured person? Have you already fallen to such an extent? "
Wang Daochun shook his head. "I'll receive anyone who isn't a traitor. You can leave."
"You!" Huang Yu's face was filled with anger. After holding it in for a long time, he said, "You … Very good. They all say that Wang Daochun's calligraphy is unique, like the Yangtze River. I'd like to experience it today. "
Wang Daochun shook his head. "Not interested. I don't communicate with traitors."
"This isn't an exchange. This is a challenge! I want to use my actions to tell you that your so-called calligraphy is nothing! "Huang Yu said proudly.
At that moment, a woman exclaimed, "Venerable One, what are you doing? This is a master's brush. You can't use it … Hey … Stop! "
Upon hearing this exclamation, Huang Yu and Wang Daochun subconsciously looked over. They saw that the monk had picked up Wang Daochun's brush at some point in time. Ignoring his beautiful assistant's obstruction, he flicked his sleeves and began writing!
Wang Daochun frowned. Many calligraphers had some hobbies. For example, they cherished their brushes as much as their lives, or they cherished certain things and did not like others touching them. Wang Daochun's brush was his forbidden zone …
When Huang Yu saw this, he laughed out loud and said, "A stinky beggar also wants to play with words? Has Huaxia fallen to such an extent? "
But before he could finish his sentence, the monk swung his arm. The next moment, the brush seemed to come alive. The brush's ink was like a dragon, and the paper was like the sea. The dragon returned to the sea, and it was magnificent. A huge word appeared on the paper, leaving everyone dumbfounded!
The most miraculous thing was that Fangzheng's hands were flying and moving like a dragon, but his body was as steady as an ancient bell or an old Buddha!
At that moment, everyone had the illusion that the person who wrote the book was not a human, but a Buddha! This Buddha was not writing, but drawing a dragon …
In just a few breaths, two lines of words appeared on the paper. It was surprisingly — Green hills bury the loyal bones, white iron cast the innocent sycophant!
Two sentences, fourteen words. Every stroke was like a sharp knife. With just a glance, Huang Yu's face turned red … He wanted to say something, but what could he say? He mocked Fangzheng for not knowing how to write, but the words he wrote were like the trajectory of a divine dragon. The domineering aura between the lines made him not have the courage to go against his conscience and slander the words.
Besides, there were so many peers here. Who couldn't tell if the words were good or not? If he said another word now, it would be like slapping himself in the face.
But if he didn't say it?
These fourteen words were like fourteen knives that slashed at his body. Every word struck his heart!
"Good!" It was unknown who was the first to shout. Following that, there was thunderous applause. There was a series of cheers!
Wang Daochun was originally unhappy, but when he saw the word, he was so excited that he couldn't say a word. After a long time, he said, "Good … Good …"
At that moment, the young monk came in front of Huang Yu with a brush and said with a smile, "Didn't you want to write? Write. We are watching. "
Huang Yu's face darkened when he heard that.
The others laughed. There were many peers here, and everyone knew of Huang Yu's abilities. He was indeed unique, but if a person's heart was bad, his words would be bad as well. Words were like people. If people were traitors, their words wouldn't be any better. However, it had to be said that Huang Yu's words were indeed very good. They surpassed many people present.
But in front of the old monk, everyone knew very well that Huang Yu's words were worthless!
Flaunting his saber in front of Guan Yu? Was he courting death or wasn't he afraid of embarrassing himself?
This word was something that no one present dared to write, much less Huang Yu!
Huang Yu didn't dare either. It would be embarrassing if he didn't take the brush. It would be even more embarrassing if he took the brush and wrote!
For the first time, Huang Yu tragically realized that there would be a day in his life when he didn't even have the courage to pick up a brush!
Finally, Huang Yu stomped his feet and snorted coldly. "I'm not in a good state today. It's fine if I don't write!"
With that said, Huang Yu left with his people dejectedly …
"Haha!" Everyone laughed. Huang Yu walked even faster. In the end, he even ran. He knew that after today, he would be a joke in the circle. If a self-proclaimed calligrapher didn't dare to pick up a brush, how could he have the cheek to say that he was a calligrapher?
"Thank you, Master, for helping me out." At that moment, Wang Daochun snapped to his senses and hurriedly bowed to Fangzheng. It was a ninety-degree bow, and the degree of respect he showed was like a student facing a teacher.
However, no one present felt that Wang Daochun's actions were overboard. Instead, they felt that it was only natural.
Fangzheng's words had instantly won over everyone present. There was no seniority in learning. Those who had reached the apex were the teachers.
Fangzheng hurriedly made way, not daring to accept the bow. His words were given to him by the System, but true calligraphers like Wang Daochun had worked hard day and night to gain insights. They had honed their swords for decades!
If there was anyone who could carry the banner of Chinese calligraphy in the future and spread calligraphy culture, Fangzheng would definitely not be one of them. It would depend on these masters who were truly willing to work hard and endure hardship.
Fangzheng hurriedly returned the bow. "Patron, you're being too polite. This Penniless Monk only wrote a few words."
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