The old lady patted Yun Ya’s hand back with satisfaction: "You have a good heart, and your grandmother believes in you."
"Co, prepare the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone."
The butler ordered people to bring up a table, and the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone were all ready.
Everyone was looking at Ji Yunya, while Shao Rongrong looked over proudly, thinking, let’s see if you can write anything.
Yun Ya lowered her gaze with a smile, "Then I’ll graciously accept." With those words, she took a step forward.
"Hold on," the old lady suddenly spoke up.
Yun Ya raised an eyebrow and looked over.
The old lady looked at Shao Rongrong, then her gaze landed on Liu Cuiying, "Professor Liu, you have taught your daughter well. I trust Miss Shao must be exceptionally talented. Why not have a competition with Yun Ya?"
That ntion of "Professor Liu" was obviously sarcastic. Liu Cuiying’s legs went weak—she was done for. The master’s wife would surely harbor a grudge against her in her heart. Offending the Zhuang Family, how could she continue in school? Forget school, she wouldn’t survive in the Capital City.
A competition... she knew her daughter better than anyone, her writing was barely better than a dog’s scrawl.
"This... my daughter isn’t very accomplished and probably won’t make a good impression on the master’s wife...."
"Professor Liu, please don’t be modest. I see your daughter has an extraordinary look. Let’s give her a chance to perform. Bring another table," the old lady ordered.
Liu Cuiying’s face was filled with distress, unable to refuse, what should she do?
She couldn’t help but glare at Shao Rongrong fiercely, damn girl, always causing trouble for her.
Shao Rongrong was also at a loss; she didn’t know anything about calligraphy. But it would be embarrassing to show cowardice in front of so many people...
She looked at Ji Yunya and saw that Ji Yunya was calm and unhurried. Who wouldn’t pretend to be composed?
She couldn’t help but lift her head and puff out her chest, "Alright then."
Liu Cuiying looked up helplessly.
Another table was brought up, and as Shao Rongrong stood in front of it, she finally beca sowhat bewildered, cheering herself on internally. It’s just writing, right? Easy.
Yun Ya picked up the brush, gently dipped it in ink, her grip as graceful as an orchid, her fair and slender fingers holding the brush—how exquisite it was.
Her eyebrows slightly furrowed, like smoke enveloping sand, as if traveling back to ancient tis, to that era of scholarly and poetic ambiance, everything becoming gentle and composed.
Looking at Shao Rongrong again, she couldn’t even hold the brush steadily, causing one to shake their head. This girl was just here to set off Ji Yunya.
Shao Rongrong sneaked a glance at Ji Yunya, trying to mimic how she held the brush, not realizing she was becoming a joke in everyone else’s eyes, but she was completely unaware.
Zhuang Jingmo chuckled and said, "Miss Shao is indeed free-spirited, holding the brush however she pleases." He covered his mouth and laughed, seeming good-natured, but upon closer inspection, the tone was unmistakably sarcastic.
This was mocking Shao Rongrong for not even knowing how to hold a brush.
Shao Rongrong’s face slightly stiffened, and for a long while, she couldn’t put brush to paper, a drop of ink from the tip dripped onto the white rice paper, spreading into a black dot.
Yun Ya glanced sideways at Shao Rongrong and said with a smile, "Today is grandmother’s birthday celebration, how about we compose a poem on the the of longevity, Miss Shao, what do you think?"
"Ah?" Shao Rongrong was taken aback.
Yun Ya didn’t give her the chance to react, lifted the brush, and focused, all who watched saw the brush dance across the paper, the young lady’s deanor serene, instilling respect in those who looked on.
As for Shao Rongrong, seeing the words under Ji Yunya’s brush, her eyes widened in disbelief. The words were similar to those she saw earlier, but they seed even more fluid and carefree... one could feel the elegance and flair within the lines.
Her hand holding the brush couldn’t help but tremble slightly.
What birthday tribute poem? Her mind was completely blank.
"Miss Shao, why aren’t you writing? Are you perhaps brewing sothing?" Zhuang Jingmo quipped.
Shao Rongrong’s face turned slightly pale, facing countless gazes, feeling like needles on her back.
In a mont, Yun Ya finished, Xu Yun was the first to walk over, reading while reciting: "The sea changes, but people stay unchanged, blessings shelter descendants, bringing peace and health. The human world rejoices in family unity, only wishing for annual birthday celebrations...."
"The grandson’s filial piety under the knees is hard to convey, across the shore, a birthday poem wishes for boundless longevity. Pine and crane can’t express our hearts, face east and kneel to the setting sun."
"This poem is excellent, and the writing even more so. Miss Ji truly is learned and talented; I am deeply impressed."
Now, who would dare question?
Those who had doubts also fell silent, not knowing what to say other than praise.
"Oh? Miss Shao hasn’t written a single word, perhaps Miss Shao wasn’t prepared?" Xu Yun remarked playfully.
Shao Rongrong tossed the brush aside, unable to stay any longer, and sprinted out.
Liu Cuiying also had no face to stay, hurriedly chasing after her.
"What disgraceful behavior," the old lady mumbled, then looked at Yun Ya, imdiately smiling brightly.
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