Genius One Second Remember If You Want To Go? Say → Net, providing you with exciting novels to read.
Li He started writing couplets after breakfast, while Fu Xia helped him cut the paper.
Every time he finished writing a couplet, Li He would look at it proudly, before letting Fu Xia dry it at the side.
He would look at it repeatedly, changing the angle, squinting, widening his eyes, moving closer, looking further away. F * ck, how could it be so good looking ah ah ah ah ah.
He felt that his calligraphy had improved, and his words were getting smoother and smoother.
Since Elder Yu had nothing to do, he held his grandson's hand and strolled in. His grandson was wrapped up like a dumpling, his head drooped and his neck shrunk. It was obvious that he was unwilling to be led around like a puppy.
Old Man Yu was just satisfying his bad taste of playing with his grandson.
Fu Xia saw that Old Man Yu was looking at Li He's calligraphy, and felt proud. She boasted, "Uncle Yu, my brother's calligraphy is not bad, right? It's beautiful."
Li He stopped writing, his eyebrows raised, and looked at Old Man Yu expectantly. His meaning was clear, "Hurry up and compliment him, compliment him."
Old Man Yu was a straightforward person, and he never lied. He said directly, "The structure of the words is correct, and it looks elegant. It's just that it doesn't have any muscles or bones, and it doesn't have a crest. The words look very thin, and some of the strokes are very vague, without any sense of weight. It gives off a feeling of lack of strength, as if one would faint if they continued writing. It's still the same old saying, the words are like the person. "
When Li He heard this, he felt his face hurt from being slapped, and it was burning. He cursed in his heart, "I didn't throw your grandson into the well, why are you mocking me like this?"
Fu Xia was indeed a good child, and she helped Li He, "I think it's good looking."
Old Man Lee continued to point at the couplets, and said to Li He, "You should be writing according to your own personality. You haven't learned it systematically, and you say it's calligraphy just by holding a brush. I've been learning clerical calligraphy since I was a child, and then I learned Ouyang Xun's calligraphy for a period of time. I haven't picked up a brush for ten years, but if I were to pick up a brush and write, it should be better than this. "
Li He refused to accept it. Although he admitted in his heart that what Elder Yu said was right, no one had ever said that his handwriting was ugly. If someone suddenly attacked him, he would definitely retaliate, so he asked, "Then why don't you correct me?"
Seeing that Li He didn't believe him, Elder Yu directly pointed at the word 'Five' and said, "The strokes you wrote are stiff. Let me say the simplest word. You wrote the word 'Five' in slow strokes, but the strokes are very thick. The hook in the middle should be connected by gossamer, but you directly brought it over, making this' Five 'look very fat. The basic framework must be there, and there must be coordination between the strokes. What you're doing is just a painting, right? Your shortcoming is that you like to "sketch", one stroke is another, neat and tidy. Facial muscles and willow bones. The first lesson in calligraphy was usually about this. A little deeper would be about the hook being bent like a piece of metal, the spear like a crossbow, moving horizontally and vertically like an elephant, and raising one's head high with ambition. This is what you're talking about. "
Elder Yu spoke very excitedly, and didn't care about Li He's expression at all.
Li He's faith immediately crumbled from Elder Yu's words, and only felt that the world had darkened. The words that he was so proud of for so many years were actually criticized to be worthless, he definitely felt uncomfortable. However, he was originally an unorthodox person, and had no one to guide him. Meeting an expert like Elder Yu, he obviously had to be humble and seek advice, and asked, "Then how do I practice? You teach me. "
Elder Yu said, "Let's start from horizontal, curving, pressing, and vertical. On average, practice one word a day, and a thousand commonly used words, that would still take three years. Three years of regular script, three years of semi-cursive script, a total of six years, and that doesn't count as seal script. Spend another three to four years to copy the Treasure Pagoda tablets, I'll count it as ten years for you, and you'll barely be able to learn by then. "
With that, he walked away with his head held high, like a victorious rooster.
Fu Xia saw that Li He was listless, and could only ask carefully, "Do you still want to continue writing?"
Li He waved his hand in frustration, "Write my a * s, it's embarrassing to post it. Give it to Elder Yu, and let him write it. "
Fu Xia didn't want to invite a rebuff, and packed up the brush, ink, and paper, and gave it to Elder Yu.
Li He looked at the rows of couplets written on the floor, and the more he looked, the angrier he got. He went over to pick them up, and rolled them into balls, and threw them into the stove.
It seemed like Yu Dehua was especially happy to see Li He suffer, and seeing Li He's flustered and exasperated look, he humbly patted Li He's shoulder, "Young man, why are you so dejected, everyone has their own specialties, right?"
"F * ck off."
Yu Dehua was not angry at all. He came and left with a smile.
When Fu Xia came back with the rolled up couplets, Li He couldn't wait to open them. Every word was broken, and the meaning was connected, lively, and elegant. Li He admitted that he definitely couldn't write this.
Li He didn't have the mood to eat lunch, and Fu Xia consoled him, "Brother, don't be discouraged. How old are you? He's been writing for 50 to 60 years, it's normal that you're better than him. We'll definitely write better than him in the future."
Li He rolled his eyes at Fu Xia. He had practiced for almost 60 years in both of his lives, but why was there such a huge difference between them?
If there was a standard in life, it would be called a gap, and if there wasn't, it would be called diversity. Day after day of hard work, or slacking off, would give the choice.
In the afternoon, when Xiao Wei came over, Li He didn't even bother with him, and just chased him away. He then locked the door, determined not to open it no matter who came.
He took a calligraphy book and began to practice again, from horizontal to vertical.
On New Year's Eve, the northwest wind blew, and it was cold. It was dry and cold, and the ice hanging from the eaves was about one to two feet long. The ice in the pond in the front yard was a few centimeters thicker than usual. Fu Xia bravely stepped on it, and it didn't even shake.
In the yard, He Fang's chickens and ducks were all so cold that their necks shrank, and they didn't have any energy at all. They obediently stayed in the cage under the wall and eaves.
Li He broke all the ice in the feeding bowl, poured it out, washed it, and added some hot water. Then, he added some food, and the cage became lively.
The dogs disliked the cold in the woodshed, and they lay under the table in the central room. They couldn't get out. It was so comfortable to have a heater, and the dogs weren't stupid.
There must be hot soup in the rice bowl, or they wouldn't even look at it.
Fu Xia glanced at the dogs lying on the ground, and then looked at the lazy Li He. She sighed in her heart.
Li He didn't want to go out of the house. The smell of coal drifted into the yard from the stove next door. In order to keep warm, many people used the stove from the 50s and 60s. A coal-burning stove needed at least eight to nine chimneys, and it burned low-quality coal from Xishan. The smoke was very high, and the smell of smoke was also very strong.
There were also people who burned stoves, stoves, and stoves. They tried to find ways to keep warm, but it was rare to turn on the heater like Li He did.
Gas leakage happened from time to time, and the neighborhood committee often sent people to check. The door of Li He's house was patted two or three times a week.
Before night fell, firecrackers began to go off everywhere, and the echo in the alley was especially loud.
Li He set off firecrackers at the door, and then Yu Dehua's family business began to crackle.
After burning the incense and lighting the candles, Fu Xia had already served the dishes. There were chicken, duck, fish, and five or six dishes.
Li He and Fu Xia each gave a glass of white wine. "It's more comfortable to drink some wine."
Fu Xia handed a red paper bag to Li He. "Here, take it, for good luck."
Li He, "What?"
"A red envelope."
"Li He."
He seemed to have forgotten that Fu Xia was also older than him.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
