Courtyard House: I fish in the heavens, a professional bird abuser.

"He Yuanchao? You...you're going?"

Old Li, a senior worker in the same group as He Yuanchao, looked at him with disbelief. "You...you can read? I remember you...you didn't even finish elementary school before you filled in for someone else, did you?"

Old Li was straightforward and didn't mean any harm, but the meaning behind his words was clear—are you capable? Don't go and embarrass yourself!

"That's right, this isn't the time to show off!"

Another coworker advised, "That bulletin board represents the face of our factory! If it's not written well, the deputy factory manager will blame us, and that's no joke!"

"He Yuanchao, you don't actually think that just because you're good at fishing, you can also write calligraphy without a teacher, do you?"

One of the coworkers, who was usually a bit envious of He Yuanchao's youth, skill, and new bicycle, said with obvious sarcasm, "Don't let his handwriting look like a chicken scratching, making our workshop look bad to the factory leaders!"

Faced with the doubts and ridicule of the crowd, He Yuanchao remained calm, his eyes showing no fluctuation, only a quiet confidence: "How will I know if I don't try? The broadcast said that anyone with special skills or confidence in their abilities can go. I have confidence in myself."

After saying that, he ignored everyone's gaze, put down his tools, and walked steadily toward the factory office building, under the watchful, doubtful, and expectant eyes of his coworkers.

The deputy factory director's office is on the second floor.

As He Yuanchao reached the door, he saw a middle-aged man wearing glasses and a blue Zhongshan suit, looking like a cadre. This man, surnamed Zhang, the factory office secretary, was standing anxiously in the corridor, reprimanding several people who had been temporarily summoned and appeared to be "cultured" individuals nominated by various workshops.

"...Let me ask you to write a few words, and look at what you've written! What do you call this? Crooked and uneven! Ink balls everywhere! Can this be posted on the bulletin board? Huh? Aren't you ashamed! The deputy factory director is waiting for it! If we can't find anyone soon, this task will fall into my hands!"

The workers who were being reprimanded had their heads down, their faces flushed, and they were clutching scraps of paper with terrible handwriting.

Secretary Zhang looked up and saw He Yuanchao walking over. His brows furrowed even more: "Which workshop are you from? What's the matter? Can't you see we're busy?"

"Hello Secretary Zhang, this is He Yuanchao from the fitter's workshop. I heard the announcement and came to try writing on the bulletin board."

He Yuanchao said neither humbly nor arrogantly.

"The fitter's workshop? He Yuanchao?"

Secretary Zhang looked He Yuanchao up and down. The young man was indeed handsome and sturdy, but his demeanor... didn't seem like that of someone who could write.

"You...you can read? Have you practiced writing?"

His tone was full of doubt.

The other workers who had been reprimanded also looked up at He Yuanchao, their eyes filled with a sense of shared misery and a hint of anticipation—yet another one who overestimated himself.

"I know a little bit."

He Yuanchao spoke in a flat tone.

"Know a little bit?"

Secretary Zhang almost laughed in exasperation. Pointing to the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone spread out on the table beside him, he said, "Fine! Then write a few words for me to see! Just write... um, 'Grasp revolution, promote production'! Write it clearly! Write it neatly! Don't waste paper and ink!"

A worker nearby quickly dipped a brush in ink and handed it over, his eyes filled with mischief, clearly waiting to see this "naive young man" make a fool of himself.

They've all suffered, and they know how difficult it is to write this well, even though it looks simple.

He Yuanchao took the pen.

As soon as I held the brush, a feeling of being connected to it as if it were my own arm or fingers welled up within me.

Without the slightest hesitation, and without even testing his brush on scrap paper like most people would, he went directly to the laid-out Xuan paper and took a slight breath.

Wrist suspended in the air, pen tip lightly touches the paper.

Let's put pen to paper!

Start with a reverse stroke, concealing the true intention!

With a steady wrist, the pen moves like a knife!

At the turning point, the square shape contains a circle, and the power penetrates the paper!

When finishing a stroke, return the brush tip with a lift and press, resulting in a clean and crisp finish!

The six characters "grasp, revolution, revolution, promote, production, and output" flowed smoothly and seamlessly in one breath!

It uses the most demanding regular script! The characters are square and rigorous, with a balanced structure and strong and powerful strokes, yet they also carry a kind of rounded and full charm.

The dots are like falling stones, the horizontal lines are like a thousand-mile-long battle formation of clouds, and the vertical lines are like an ancient, withered vine!

The ink is perfectly balanced in shades, its power penetrating the paper!

A powerful, dignified, and vigorous aura swept over us!

After writing the six characters, He Yuanchao gently put down his pen, his movements natural and fluid, as if he had only done a trivial matter.

There was complete silence at the office doorway!

Secretary Zhang opened his mouth wide, his eyes wide like copper bells, staring intently at the six powerful ink characters that seemed to penetrate the paper and possess a life of their own, as if he had seen a ghost!

Although he is not a master calligrapher, he still has basic aesthetic sense!

These characters... these characters are completely different from the rigid and stiff printed characters on those propaganda slogans he remembered!

It's completely different from the "chicken feet" written by those workers earlier!

This is clearly... the work of a master!

The workers who were waiting to see the joke were completely dumbfounded!

They looked at He Yuanchao's calm face, then at the six large characters on the paper that looked like works of art, and then at the few scribbles in their own hands... The huge contrast made them so ashamed that they wanted to find a crack in the ground to crawl into!

"Beautiful...beautiful calligraphy! Truly beautiful calligraphy!"

Secretary Zhang finally recovered from his shock, his voice trembling with excitement! He slapped his thigh, stepped forward, and grabbed He Yuanchao's hand as if it were a lifeline. "Comrade He... He Yuanchao! I never expected! I never expected! Our factory has such a calligraphy master as you! My apologies! My apologies! Please come in! The deputy factory director is waiting!"

Secretary Zhang's attitude instantly underwent a complete 180-degree turn. She enthusiastically led He Yuanchao into the office, while simultaneously turning back to wave impatiently at the stunned workers: "Alright, alright! You're done! Go back to work in the workshop!"

The deputy factory director's office was spacious, but the furnishings were relatively simple.

A large desk, a few chairs, a filing cabinet, and several production schedules and portraits of great figures hanging on the wall.

Behind the desk sat a man in his fifties, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, with his hair neatly combed, exuding an air of refined elegance mixed with a touch of authority and shrewdness.

It was Lou Zhenhua, the deputy director of Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill.

At this moment, Lou Zhenhua had a slight frown on his face as he looked at a document.

Hearing the noise, he looked up and calmly gazed at the doorway.

"Director Lou! The person has been found! Found!"

Secretary Zhang couldn't hide his excitement; his voice rose an octave, "Comrade He Yuanchao from the fitter's workshop! Look at his handwriting!"

He presented the sheet of paper with the words "Grasp Revolution, Promote Production" written on it with both hands, and respectfully placed it on Lou Zhenhua's desk.

Lou Zhenhua's gaze fell on the paper.

Just one glance!

His previously calm and even gaze froze instantly!

Immediately afterwards, his pupils contracted sharply!

An undisguised look of shock and admiration spread rapidly in his eyes, like a pebble thrown into a lake!

He subconsciously pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, leaned forward slightly, and carefully examined the six large, still-wet ink characters in regular script.

The gaze is like the most precise probe, carefully appreciating the beginning, development, transition, and conclusion of each stroke, the lightness and heaviness of the force, and the density and avoidance of the structure.

"Starting with a reverse stroke, concealing the tip to build momentum... moving with the central tip, maintaining strength throughout... the turns are square on the outside and round on the inside, with hidden strength... ending with a clean and crisp return stroke... excellent! What a masterpiece of Yan Zhenqing and Liu Gongquan's style! It deeply captures the essence of regular script! Yet it also contains a vibrant and upward-looking spirit of the times!"

Lou Zhenhua couldn't help but exclaim in a low voice, his voice filled with amazement and disbelief.

He suddenly raised his head, his sharp gaze, for the first time truly scrutinizing and probing, falling on He Yuanchao.

This young man, dressed in faded blue overalls, was tall and upright, with a resolute and handsome face and calm, deep eyes. He lacked the restraint or roughness often seen in craftsmen, instead exuding a composure and...scholarly air that seemed out of place for his age.

A fitter?

A substitute worker who supposedly didn't even finish elementary school?

How could someone write such beautiful characters, comparable to those of renowned calligraphers, with such powerful strokes that they seem to penetrate the paper, and such natural charm?!

As the saying goes, being a person is like writing characters!

This kid in front of me is really quite capable!

This stark contrast deeply shocked and piqued the interest of Lou Zhenhua, a man of broad knowledge, scholarly background, and business experience.

"Comrade He Yuanchao?"

Lou Zhenhua stood up, a gentle yet penetrating smile on his face, and extended his hand.

"I am Lou Zhenhua. Truly... a hidden talent indeed!"

I never imagined that a master calligrapher was hidden among the workers of our steel rolling mill! My apologies!

~

During the new book release period, I'd like to add this book to my bookshelf and also ask for some free gifts.

o(╥﹏╥)o Thank you