A song from Chengdu revived a closed-down pub.

After finishing his meal, Grandpa Lin put down his chopsticks and suddenly asked, "Do you have time the day after tomorrow?"

"Uncle Lin, what's the matter? Please tell me," Su Fan replied casually.

"I'm asking you, do you have time the day after tomorrow?" Grandpa Lin repeated.

"Tell me what it is first, then I'll confirm if you have time."

Upon hearing this, Grandpa Lin's face darkened, and he wished he could kick Su Fan a few times.

"Hey kid, why is it so hard to talk to you? Do I have to report my itinerary to you before I treat you?"

"It's different. If you ask me to do something else, I definitely won't have time. But if you invite me to dinner, I can always find the time, no matter how busy I am. So, I need to see what it is first before I can make an appointment."

"Hmph, you're so shrewd," Old Man Lin said irritably. "Let me tell you, there's a calligraphy exhibition the day after tomorrow. You'll have to come with me to take a look."

"A calligraphy exhibition..." Upon hearing this, Su Fan's interest waned, and he waved his hand, "Never mind, Uncle Lin, I won't go."

"What, do you look down on those calligraphers?"

"Uncle Lin, you're stirring up internal conflicts among the people, that's unacceptable."

"Don't try to label me." After saying that, Grandpa Lin sighed, "To be honest, this circle is not what it used to be. These days, none of these people have much real skill. They just like to do fancy things and talk about innovation and breakthroughs. I think they just don't have the patience to practice calligraphy for decades, so they have to take crooked paths to attract attention."

"Unorthodox methods? What do you mean?" Su Fan became interested.

Grandpa Lin snorted coldly: "You can only say that there are all kinds of birds in a big forest. Some people take a broom, dip it in ink, and scribble on the ground. Others use water guns to spray ink onto paper. And there are even more outrageous ones who soak their hair in ink and rub their heads on the paper, calling it 'performance calligraphy' or 'modern art.' Bah! In my opinion, that's just ruining the things of our ancestors."

Upon hearing this, Su Fan perked up: "Is that so?"

Grandpa Lin glared at him: "Why do you look so excited?"

Su Fan immediately said, "If it were an ordinary calligraphy exhibition, I definitely wouldn't go. But these strange and unusual things you mentioned, I have to go and broaden my horizons. It would be a huge loss if I didn't see them."

"So, I invited you to appreciate art, but you just wanted to see the spectacle?"

"Art originates from life, and so does fun. I have to check out this crazy creation."

Grandpa Lin was too lazy to argue with him anymore. Although Su Fan's motives for agreeing were somewhat impure, since he had agreed, his goal had been achieved.

The day after tomorrow morning, Grandpa Lin called Su Fan and they went to the calligraphy exhibition together.

Inside the exhibition hall, people came and went, an old man and a young man strolling around at a leisurely pace.

Every now and then, Grandpa Lin would stop in front of one of the paintings and discuss it with Su Fan.

Which painting demonstrates genuine skill, and which is merely a showy display? A few words are all it takes to clearly distinguish them.

As he strolled around, Su Fan suddenly stopped in his tracks when he reached one of the exhibition areas.

In the very center, in the most conspicuous position, hung two calligraphy scrolls.

These are the two pieces that Su Fan casually wrote a few days ago in Grandpa Lin's study.

Su Fan raised an eyebrow, turning to Grandpa Lin with a half-smile: "Grandpa Lin, aren't you going to explain this matter?"

Grandpa Lin stammered, "This...this...ah...right..."

Finally, Grandpa Lin said, "Good things shouldn't be kept secret; people have to see them."

Just as Su Fan was about to say something, someone came up to greet him: "Hey, old boss, you've finally arrived!"

The visitor was none other than Yang Chunsheng, the president of the Calligraphers Association.

Grandpa Lin coughed and then introduced the two men: "Old Yang, come, let me introduce you. This is Su Fan, and this is Yang Chunsheng, the president of the calligraphy association."

Having learned the other party's identity, Grandpa Lin's identity also became clear.

Su Fan muttered to himself, "Wow, Grandpa Lin is actually the president of the calligraphy association, no, he should be the former president."

"President Yang, hello." Su Fan politely extended his hand.

Yang Chunsheng shook hands warmly: "Hey, you must be the singer Su Fan. I've heard so much about you! Your song 'As You Wish' was really good. If you ask me, it would be even better if you could write a song about calligraphy someday."

Su Fan smiled and said, "President Yang, you flatter me."

When Yang Chunsheng saw that Su Fan was brought by the old chairman, he immediately became interested: "Come, come, perfect, let me introduce you."

Grandpa Lin said from the side, "We have eyes, we can see for ourselves, we don't need your explanation."

Yang Chunsheng chuckled and said, "Old Chairman, of course you don't need that, but since Brother Su Fan is here, I naturally have to introduce him properly and maybe even give him some inspiration. Who knows, he might be able to write a song about calligraphy."

As he spoke, he cleared his throat and began to introduce the calligraphy with a solemn expression: "Young Brother Su Fan, look at this piece of calligraphy. It is slender yet vigorous, elegant and refined. It takes the slenderness and vigor of Ouyang Xun and Liu Gongquan as its bones, the roundness of Zhao Mengfu as its flesh, the spaciousness of the Slender Gold style, and the agility of running script as its spirit. It integrates the strengths of various masters and creates its own unique style..."

Su Fan stood with his hands behind his back, listening with great interest to Yang Chunsheng's eloquent introduction.

During this time, Su Fan even nodded seriously.

After the introduction, Yang Chunsheng asked expectantly, "How was it?"

"Not bad," Su Fan said slowly.

Yang Chunsheng's smile froze on the spot.

These words, however, took on a completely different meaning in Yang Chunsheng's ears.

Yang Chunsheng was immediately displeased, thinking that Su Fan was just a pop music enthusiast who couldn't appreciate the essence of calligraphy at all.

Yang Chunsheng, suppressing his emotions, pointed to the Yan style calligraphy again: "It seems you might not appreciate the nuances of this piece, which combines the strengths of various masters. Now take a look at this one. This is the 'Record of the Magu Immortal Altar' written in Yan style. It is powerful and dignified. You may not have grasped the essence of the previous piece, but you should be able to tell the difference between good and bad Yan style calligraphy in this one, right?"

Su Fan leaned closer, staring at the calligraphy he had abandoned halfway through, and commented seriously, "Hmm, it's not bad, but why didn't you finish it?"

Yang Chunsheng choked for a moment, then offered a forced explanation: "This is a work that was done casually. But you should know that the more casual it is, the more it reflects the writer's spontaneity and skill. The abrupt ending is precisely where the naturalness and unadorned elegance are revealed."

Grandpa Lin, who was standing to the side, couldn't hold back any longer and burst out laughing.

"Old Chairman, what are you laughing at?" Yang Chunsheng asked, looking puzzled.

Grandpa Lin waved his hand: "It's nothing, I just suddenly thought of a joke and couldn't help it."

"What joke?"

"Once upon a time, there was a eunuch." After saying this, Old Man Lin shut his mouth.

Yang Chunsheng waited for what would happen next, but after a long while, Grandpa Lin remained silent. He had no choice but to press on, "And then what?"

Grandpa Lin said in a very serious tone, "That's all."