Taking Liu Yifei back to Northeast China for the Chinese New Year has sent the entire internet into

Qi Wenhai knew all too well what Chen Daoming and his gang were capable of.

Old Chen loves calligraphy, Old Zhou loves collecting, and Old Shen knows a thing or two about it.

But to ask them to paint this level of freehand brushwork?

Let's not talk about now.

Even if they were given another two hundred years, it would still be difficult.

Zhou Yuanshan was the first to come to his senses and burst out laughing.

He put the Bodhi beads on his wrist and pointed to the side of the table.

"Old Qi."

"Stop looking, it's both far away and right in front of you."

"Look, this is the drawing by this young man."

Qi Wenhai looked in the direction he was pointing.

Dark gray cashmere coat.

In their early twenties.

With his hands in his pockets, he looked like he hadn't woken up yet and was in a relaxed, sleepy state.

There was also an incredibly beautiful young woman standing next to her.

He recognized her; she was actress Liu Yifei.

Qi Wenhai frowned immediately.

"Old Zhou, are you kidding me?"

He pointed at Fang Yu.

"The tension in the ink and wash of this painting can only be grasped by someone with fifty or sixty years of experience."

"You're telling me this young man drew it?"

"I watched him draw it with my own eyes."

Shen Weimin spoke up beside the display shelf.

He stood with his hands behind his back, his face expressionless, and his tone stiff.

Qi Wenhai was completely stunned.

He knew Zhou Yuanshan loved to joke.

But Shen Weimin was different.

He's very serious and doesn't even bother with jokes, let alone tease her with something like this.

Chen Daoming and He Zheng nodded in agreement.

The four people all gave completely identical accounts.

Qi Wenhai then turned his head again and stared intently at the painting on the table.

The pine soot ink in the inkstone was still wet.

The ink stains on the drawing paper were also in a state where they had just been applied.

It's so fresh, like it just came out of the pot.

Qi Wenhai took two deep breaths, forcibly suppressing the shock in his heart.

He walked up to Fang Yu and looked him up and down.

"Young man."

Qi Wenhai changed his form of address this time, and his tone became much more humble.

"May I ask who your teacher was?"

Fang Yu looked at him; he had seen Qi Wenhai's reaction just now.

This old man is a real expert.

To say that you had no one to teach you and relied entirely on talent sounds a bit far-fetched.

So Fang Yu thought about it and decided to give a name:

"Teacher Hua."

Qi Wenhai frowned, his mind instantly frantically searching for the list.

In the Chinese painting world, there's someone surnamed Hua.

It also requires such extraordinary skill in calligraphy.

"You mean...Master Huazhong Shi from Lingnan?"

Fang Yu shook his head.

Qi Wenhai then asked, "Is that Mr. Hua Boyong of the Jinling School of Painting?"

Fang Yu continued to shake his head.

Qi Wenhai was completely dumbfounded.

Hua Zhongshi and Hua Boyong are already considered top-tier masters in the art academy.

Besides them, which other person with the surname Hua could train students with this kind of foundation?

He tentatively asked another question:

"Could it be the retired senior Hua Yuntian?"

Fang Yu waved his hand, maintaining an air of mystery.

"Neither."

The Teacher Hua he was referring to.

It is the result of thousands of years of Chinese civilization.

Liu Yifei stood to the side, somewhat bewildered as she listened.

She really didn't know when Fang Yu had suddenly become such a mysterious teacher.

Since I've known him, I've only ever heard of one person: Teacher Wang.

He was still that kind of old rascal, a retired teacher who had a knack for knowing Fang Yu's childhood dark history of touching electric gates.

However, Liu Yifei thought about it again and realized that Fang Yu's extraordinary calligraphy and painting skills were more likely to have been taught by a reclusive master.

It's more believable than him saying something like, "It's basic stuff, I was born with it."

Qi Wenhai, however, became anxious, his thirst for knowledge reaching its peak.

"Which Mr. Hua is it?"

"Young man, give me a hint."

"I must pay a visit to someone who can teach such a master of freehand brushwork!"

"Alright, Lao Qi, stop digging into the details."

Chen Daoming walked over and stood between Qi Wenhai and Fang Yu, smiling as he patted his old friend on the shoulder.

"You've put all your attention into the painting; that's what they call being blinded by a leaf."

Qi Wenhai turned to look at him, his face full of confusion.

"What do you mean by being blinded by a leaf?"

"Besides this large-scale freehand painting, what else is worth seeing?"

"I mean..."

Chen Daoming raised his hand and pointed directly to the door of the inner room.

"Xiao Fang is not only good at drawing."

Qi Wenhai didn't react for a moment.

Without wasting any words, Chen Daoming simply gestured for him to proceed.

"Come in and take a look inside."

Qi Wenhai was led inside, and several bigwigs outside, not wanting to miss out on the excitement, followed him in.

The inner room was specifically used for drying calligraphy and paintings.

Several large, long tables were put together and covered with a thick felt.

Qi Wenhai had just crossed the threshold.

Before his eyes could adjust to the light, the four-foot-long piece of raw Xuan paper in the very center had already pierced his eyes.

Three characters.

—The Forbidden City.

Yan style regular script.

Upright and magnanimous.

The weight of six hundred years was firmly borne by these three words.

Qi Wenhai froze in place.

Before joining the painting academy, he worked at the calligraphy association, and his calligraphy skills were no less than his painting skills.

He understood the basic structure of those three characters at a glance.

Absolutely a master's foundation!

He quickly took two steps forward, his gaze still fixed on "The Forbidden City," when his peripheral vision swept to the side.

A Laughter in the Vast Sea.

Cursive script. Unrestrained and vigorous.

The white strokes drawn out by the brush carry the ultimate killing intent of a sword being drawn from its sheath.

Qi Wenhai swallowed hard, his feet moving uncontrollably toward the one on the far right.

Four lines in the Slender Gold style.

—I begin to paint this landscape, and the bloodline of the nation stretches for thousands of miles.

—For six centuries, the descendants of the dragon have weathered countless storms…

Its sharpness is so pronounced, it's like carving words on paper with the tip of a knife.

The robustness of the Yan style calligraphy and the unrestrained elegance of the running script represent three completely different extremes.

Qi Wenhai stood in front of the long table, tilting his head to the left and then to the right.

His eyes bounced back and forth between the three pieces of calligraphy.

My palms were even sweating.

"this……"

Qi Wenhai turned his head, his voice lowering several decibels.

"These calligraphy pieces..."

Chen Daoming leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression indifferent.

"Written by Xiao Fang."

Zhou Yuanshan added insult to injury from the sidelines:

"It took less than twenty minutes in total."

Shen Weimin, in a calm tone, gave a final summary:

"He did it right in front of us, without even a draft, just picked up the pen and started writing."

Qi Wenhai's mind went blank for a moment.

He turned his head sharply and looked at Fang Yu, who was standing at the door.

Yan style, running script, and thin gold style.

And there's that magnificent freehand ink painting outside, its artistic conception reaching the heavens.

It was all done by one person, a 24-year-old!

Qi Wenhai took a deep breath, rushed out of the inner room, and returned to Fang Yu.

"Young man."

Qi Wenhai's back was slightly bent.

"These calligraphy pieces, along with the painting outside."

He looked at Fang Yu, his tone extremely serious.

"I've reserved a separate exhibition area for you in the Young Artists Nomination Exhibition!"

"How about we loan these works for a two-week exhibition?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire room fell silent.

Chen Daoming stopped leaning against the door frame, Zhou Yuanshan stopped playing the Bodhi beads in his hand, and He Zheng gasped in shock.

Being able to have a piece of calligraphy displayed in a young artist nomination exhibition is a prestigious honor, adding a golden touch to one's resume.

Not to mention the "independent exhibition area"!

This isn't something given lightly; it's tantamount to the art academy publicly endorsing it, announcing it to the entire art world.

Our art academy acknowledges the talent this kid possesses!

Liu Yifei also looked at Fang Yu, but she didn't say anything, leaving it entirely to Fang Yu to decide.

Fang Yu pulled his hand out of his coat pocket.

"Dean Qi."

He pointed to the inner room, then to the table outside, his tone casual:

"Forget about the exhibition; I've already promised to give away these few pieces of calligraphy."

Qi Wenhai was stunned on the spot.

Fang Yu first pointed at Zhou Yuanshan:

"Harmony Brings Prosperity, attributed to General Zhou."

Then he pointed to He Zheng:

"A Laughter in the Vast Sea" is directed by Gui He.

Then pointing to Chen Daoming:

"Life is like a play," attributed to Teacher Chen.

Finally, it points to Shen Weimin:

"The Forbidden City, directed by Shen."

After saying that, he shrugged.

"As for those six persimmons outside..."

Chen Daoming reacted extremely quickly, fearing that someone else would snatch it away, and immediately shouted back:

"That was a gift from Xiao Fang!"