Chapter 79: Calligraphy

Yan Lao’er was truly serious about practicing calligraphy; he took it to heart.

He was so focused that he didn’t even notice his daughter approaching.

Hearing his daughter praise him, he felt quite proud. “Of course! Your father either doesn’t do something or does it wholeheartedly. I never half-ass things. Look at this character ‘後’—I think I wrote it quite well, especially the last stroke. See the brush flair?”

To save paper and avoid leaving traces, Yan Lao’er practiced on a large stone.

Using a calligraphy brush dipped in clear water, the writing would dry in no time—perfect.

“Dad, if you were writing on paper, the ink would definitely seep through to the back.” Yan Yu said with a serious face.

Yan Lao’er sensed something was off. “What do you mean? Am I pressing too hard?”

Yan Yu burst into laughter. Seeing her father about to get embarrassed and angry, she quickly added, “Good thing Uncle didn’t pass by, or you’d fail at just holding the brush.”

“I already made a deal with your uncle—he’s not allowed to look until I’ve improved.” Yan Lao’er said proudly.

Yan Yu was impressed. “Dad! You’ve got Uncle wrapped around your finger!”

Yan Lao’er sighed. “I’m just relying on the fact that your uncle dotes on his little brother. That Yan Lao’er really doesn’t know how lucky he is.”

Having such a good elder brother—why act up?!

Her uncle always thought ahead for him, and even the slightest progress made Old Yan happy from the inside out.

However, Old Yan had the demeanor of a strict patriarch. He didn’t express joy openly; only careful observation could reveal the deep affection hidden beneath his serious exterior.

Yan Yu remarked, “Dad, this is the Taige style. It’s commonly used in the imperial exams, memorials, and official documents. Some say it lacks uniqueness, that it’s too uniform and round, but it’s widely used. Uncle really put a lot of thought into this.”

Yan Lao’er asked, “How do you know?”

Before Yan Yu could answer, he continued, “I get it—you read about it in some novel again.”

Yan Yu, though robbed of her response, still grinned. “Correct! But no rewards for you, haha!”

“Dad, let me teach you how to hold the brush first.” Yan Yu adjusted his grip.

After a few corrections, Yan Lao’er barely managed to hold the brush properly.

“What’s next?” he asked.

Yan Yu took out an inkstone, an ink stick, and some clean water from her small backpack.

“Right now, practicing on stone is fine, but if you’re going to write on paper, you need to learn how to grind ink—how much water to add, how finely to grind it…

Dad, call me when you practice from now on. Since Uncle won’t be coming over, I can teach you while finishing the writing practice he assigned me.”

Yan Lao’er nodded.

A short while later, Li Xuemei arrived.

She brought her own small stool. Knowing Old Yan wouldn’t come to check on them, she decisively took out her second handwritten book and quietly read.

From a distance, Yan Huaiwen watched the three of them—reading, practicing calligraphy, learning together.

His nose tingled. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, adjusted his breathing, and told his children, “Don’t disturb them. Your second uncle being able to sit down and practice writing is already a rare achievement.”

As for his sister-in-law and niece, they were probably worried he wouldn’t persist, so they stayed to accompany him.

At noon, Da’ya cooked. Seeing her second uncle liked making porridge, she followed his example—dicing meat, adding wild vegetable bits, and using some of the seasoning he had set aside.

Everyone else found it fine, but Yan Huaiwen felt today’s porridge tasted a little off.

Da’ya’s cooking wasn’t as good as Tianyou’s.

After lunch, Yan Yu’s family continued their studies.

Since her uncle didn’t call her over for lessons, Yan Yu quickly took the opportunity to copy The Thousand Gold Prescriptions from her handwritten book.

Yan Lao’er shared half of his stone with her.

Yan Yu wrote for a while, then took a break, and Li Xuemei took over. The mother and daughter took turns, so they didn’t get too tired.

The three brothers from the Qi family didn’t immediately come looking for Yan Lao’er when they woke up. Instead, they gathered a large pile of suitable firewood nearby.

After eating their fill and regaining their strength, they soon filled three entire baskets before heading over.

However, when they arrived, they hesitated.

Yan Lao’er, a true scholar.

It was Yan Yu who spotted them first.

She called out in a crisp voice, “Qi Da Uncle! Qi Fourth Uncle! Qi Fifth Uncle!”

The Qi brothers responded, struggling to come up with something to say, before finally blurting out, “Er’ya is such a good girl.”

Yan Lao’er looked up—his saviors had arrived!

He was getting a bit frustrated with writing.

“You’re here! Whoa, that’s a lot of firewood. Let’s go—same spot as yesterday.” As he got up, he reminded his daughter, “Yu’er, take good care of my calligraphy sheets.”

“Don’t worry, Dad!” Yan Yu promised.

Seeing her father leave, she picked up the water brush and copied a couple of characters from her uncle’s calligraphy sheets onto the stone.

“Mom, who do you think wrote better, me or Dad?” Yan Yu asked.

Li Xuemei glanced at them and replied, “Your dad did.”

Seeing her daughter’s surprised expression, she explained, “Your dad is kind and meticulous. He has the patience for this style.

You, on the other hand, are still young, lacking brush strength. Plus, your personality is too lively—you don’t like being confined by rigid structures, so your strokes naturally stray outside the lines.”

Really?

Yan Yu hadn’t noticed that about herself.

“Mom, how am I lively?” She was unconvinced.

Li Xuemei raised an eyebrow. “Do you really not know your own age? Pretending to be a child every day—you’re about to become one for real.”

“You’re actually good at cursive script. Your uncle probably noticed that, which is why he has you practicing regular script more.”

Yan Yu asked, “Shouldn’t he have me practice cursive then?”

“Cursive lies between regular and grass script. Semi-cursive is the most practical—your uncle writes in that style. Grass script is too messy; how many people can even read it?

Your dad and I certainly wouldn’t appreciate it.” If she really ended up with indecipherable scribbles, wouldn’t they be left staring blankly at her writing in the future?

“Oh!” Yan Yu understood now. She didn’t really care what style she practiced, as long as she could write.

“Then, Mom, what style are you going to learn?”

“None.” Li Xuemei answered instantly.

Yan Yu: ???

Li Xuemei grinned. “Why should I practice? I’ll just use simplified characters. Who’s going to criticize me if I miss a few strokes? As long as I can read it, that’s all that matters.”

Yan Yu’s eyes widened. “Mom, you’re cheating!”

Dad and I are both working hard at calligraphy, and you’re opting out?

It’s not about fairness—it’s about equality!

“If something really needs to be written, isn’t that what you and your father are for?”

With that one sentence, Yan Yu was utterly defeated.

…

The Qi brothers had already learned the process, but with Yan Lao’er there, they felt more at ease.

This time, Yan Lao’er spoke in a serious, gruff tone. “The four of us must take turns. Do you all agree?”

“Yes!” The three of them answered in unison.

“Good. Qi Da and I will work together, and Qi Fourth and Qi Fifth will pair up. We’ll switch turns.”

This time, they had built up quite a few earthen kilns—seven in total, filling the entire area by the stream.

Yan Lao’er and Qi Da kept watch until Qi Fourth and Qi Fifth came to relieve them.

When he returned home, he overheard his elder brother discussing with the village elders:

“…We’ve rested enough. We’ll set off early tomorrow. The sooner we reach Guanzhou, the more at ease we’ll feel.”