In a flash, eight days passed.

Last night, Jingchen ate the last spiritual pill. When Zhang Daoran was practicing in the morning, Jingchen had already gotten up and started practicing calligraphy.

After Zhang Daoran finished practicing, he just opened his eyes and saw Jing Chen standing in a haggard face not far away, dazed: "Master Taoist, I feel that the more I write, the more difficult it is to grasp it. I feel that the more awkward the font is, the more it is, the less smooth the font is..."

Standing up, Zhang Daoran didn't say anything, walked to Jingchen's room and came to Jingchen's desk. Looking at the mountains of copybooks piled up on the desk, Zhang Daoran picked up one and glanced at the slight satisfaction in his eyes.

In the past few days, Jingchen has written almost all his time, except for eating and sleeping. So much so that Jingchen has looked much haggard these days. However, the progress of calligraphy is still very obvious.

"The Spiritual Pill has not opened up your spiritual veins, but it has given you wisdom that ordinary people cannot reach. In general, calligraphy now lacks "gathering momentum" and cannot have its own style. Just taking fonts and the original meaning of calligraphy, domestic masters are far inferior to you..."

Zhang Daoran walked out of the room, Jing Chen was still dazed, with a hint of confusion in his eyes.

"In a broad sense, calligraphy refers to the writing rules of characters and symbols. To put it simply, calligraphy refers to writing according to the characteristics of the characters and their meaning, the meaning, structure and composition of the font itself, making the font that was originally only expressing human language a beautiful work of art. Chinese calligraphy is beautiful and has a very powerful art. It is not an exaggeration to use silent poems, dances without lines; paintings without pictures and silent music to say calligraphy."

Zhang Daoran came to Jingchen and continued, "So, if you want to write good calligraphy, you must first understand the meaning of every word you want to write, and the meaning you want to express..."

Jingchen's face became even more confused, and he stood under the peach tree and continued to stare blankly.

Zhang Daoran didn't say anything more. The artistic conception of calligraphy can only be understood but not expressed in words. If Jing Chen passes this level, he will be among the top domestic calligraphy masters, and even surpass it. If he can't pass this level, he can only stop here.

After more than half an hour, Jingchen turned around and returned to the room.

Zhang Daoran just glanced at Jingchen and did not disturb him. Instead, he got up and came to Jingchen's room.

Jingchen returned to the room, spread out the rice paper, picked up the brush and danced like flowing water, and the brush was flying on the rice paper. At first, Jingchen was still writing normally, but suddenly, Jingchen's temperament changed, and an invisible and faint aura emanated from his body.

"The time has arrived, gather momentum!"

Zhang Daoran's eyes lit up. Jingchen's gathering was different. Jingchen himself expressed that this gathering was very light, but the fonts written had a faint artistic conception. Even if this gathering was just a slight slight, it had surpassed 99% of calligraphers in China.

Zhang Daoran turned around and left, returned to the peach tree, and observed the Taoist scriptures.

It was not until ten o'clock in the afternoon that Jingchen walked out of the room. He was still haggard, but his eyes were bright and bright, and he had an indescribable temperament on his body.

“Cook…”

Zhang Daoran said lightly, his eyes not leaving the Taoist scripture.

Jingchen nodded and entered the kitchen to start cooking. After a while, a strong fragrance came from the kitchen. Zhang Daoran put down the Taoist scriptures and sat next to the stone table: "It's a pity that you are leaving soon. It's not that easy to eat ready-made food in the future..."

Zhang Daoran's thought of taking a Taoist boy around him was even stronger: "If there is a Taoist boy, these trivial matters will not be required to be done by themselves, and the Taoist boy can complete them."

"Tao Child..." A wry smile appeared on the corner of his mouth: "In contemporary society, there are countless only children. Who would like to have their own children to become monks and Taoism? Deep in the mountains and forests, stay away from the world, and give up a bright future?"

After a while, Jingchen walked out with the food. Jingchen was obviously absent-minded, as if he was still immersed in the feeling he had just now. Zhang Daoran was eating on his own, and Jingchen was eating every bite.

After wiping his mouth, Zhang Daoran stood up and said, "After having dinner, pack up and go down the mountain. Just go directly to the Fang family in the provincial capital. I promised them that you will help the Fang family write an invitation. This is your chance..."

The Fang family is a celebrity in the upper class of the provincial capital, so the invitations are naturally not ordinary people. Jingchen helped write invitations. When these celebrities met Jingchen's calligraphy, they would become famous for Jingchen's capital.

"Master...I..."

Jingchen was shocked. Now he felt that his calligraphy was not mature yet and lacked heat. Compared with Zhang Daoran's, there was still a big gap. Now that he was asked to go down the mountain, Jingchen felt wronged in his heart: "Have I done something wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong. You performed well these days, and I am very satisfied. Now your calligraphy climate has become better, and staying here will not help you. You should go down the mountain."

Only others can feel the artistic conception of "gathering momentum" but cannot be felt by themselves. Therefore, Jing Chen does not know that he has joined the ranks of first-class calligraphers in China. Instead, he regards his calligraphy as his own and Zhang Daoran, and naturally feels that his calligraphy is not mature. In the sense of Zhang Daoran's calligraphy, in the sense of "Huangting Jing", inherits Wang Xizhi, but because of Zhang Daoran's practice, his calligraphy artistic conception has surpassed this predecessor.

Compared with Zhang Daoran's calligraphy, Jingchen naturally feels that he has great shortcomings.

“The climate has come true?”

Jingchen smiled bitterly: "Why didn't I feel it?"

Jingchen had one thousand unwilling, ten thousand unwilling. At this time, Zhang Daoran had turned around and left. He knew that Zhang Daoran's words should not be disobeyed. He had lunch and turned to his room.

He didn't bring anything else, but just took his own clothes to change his clothes. Jingchen walked out of the room and came to Zhang Daoran's door: "Master, I'm leaving..."

Jingchen stood in front of the door and did not respond for a long time, leaving with a little gloomy face.

"Dalong, I'm leaving. I will come back to see you when I have time..."

Touching the dragon's head, Jingchen walked out of the Taoist temple and went down the mountain.

"Shit..."

The dragon crawled out of the Taoist temple, raised his head and watched Jingchen's figure disappear around the corner, seemingly reluctant to leave.

Since Jingchen went up the mountain, Dalong was like finding his dad, and Jingchen who had eaten and drunk food and never forgot Dalong. So during this period, Dalong was a little intimate with Jingchen.

In the room, Zhang Daoran watched Jingchen leave through the window, standing in front of the window speechless for a long time. I wonder if he was reluctant to leave, but Zhang Daoran smiled after a long time: "This time, marriage, fame and fortune have been harvested. Although Jingchen uses you to gain luck, it has also changed your destiny. Speaking of which, I still suffer a loss..."

Suddenly, Zhang Daoran's eyes condensed, and several familiar figures walked into the Taoist temple at this time.
Chapter completed!