Chapter Thirty-Two: Sorry, but All I See Is Talent

“Hahaha! Useless people will always be useless—he hasn’t written a single word yet!”
“In our circle, if you don’t have real skills, relying on connections will never get you anywhere!”
“If you can’t write, just leave already. Calligraphy isn’t as simple as you think—I still have to hurry home for dinner!”
“Could it be him?” Wei Xi pointed at Chen Nian, her voice tinged with disbelief.

From the beginning of the competition, Wei Xi had been paying attention to the boy about her own age—not because his writing was outstanding, nor because of his good looks, though that was part of it. The main reason was that Chen Nian hadn’t written a single word since the start.

Luo Youdao and Yu Wenqing exchanged helpless glances and nodded. It was hard to believe, but the famous Duobao Pagoda Stele copy really was his work.

Unfazed by the ridicule around him, Chen Nian scoffed, lost in thought: should he write Zhang Xu’s “Four Ancient Poems,” or Zhao Yi’s “Non-Cursive Script”? After weighing his options, he finally chose Huai Su’s work—the renowned “Autobiographical Essay,” hailed as the greatest cursive script under heaven.

With this decision made, Chen Nian began to write.

The moment he put brush to paper, the others stared in surprise.

“Heh! What’s the point of starting now?”

“Exactly! There are only twenty minutes left. Even if you’re the reincarnation of the Sage of Calligraphy, it’s too late!”

“Useless is as useless does—this frantic move only makes you look even more pathetic!”

But as the minutes passed and Chen Nian’s work took shape, the jeers faded. The hall, packed with hundreds, fell utterly silent. Those who fancied themselves masters of calligraphy stared wide-eyed at the young man before them.

“The Sage of Calligraphy reborn! He’s truly the Sage reborn!” An old man in white robes, trembling, pointed a finger at Chen Nian after he finished the final stroke.

“Impossible, absolutely impossible!” Not far away, He Wei’s eyes bulged in shock, his whole body shaking. As an expert in wild cursive, he knew just how formidable Chen Nian’s work truly was.

“It’s settled, this is worthy of Chen Nian’s talent!” On stage, Yu Wenqing clenched his fists in excitement as he watched Chen Nian finish.

“What’s going on? Is his calligraphy really that good?” Luo Youdao, who knew nothing about wild cursive, looked at the script—which seemed even more chaotic than the Duobao Pagoda Stele—and was completely lost.

“Uncle Luo, you don’t write wild cursive, so it’s natural you don’t understand.”

“This piece is a contemporary miracle—the unrestrained, free-flowing characters seem divinely inspired. The artistry is simply godlike!” Wei Xi murmured in awe.

She had agreed to come with Yu Wenqing largely because she wanted to see for herself what kind of person could produce the Duobao Pagoda Stele. The first time she saw the original, she had been unconvinced; given enough time, she thought she could also write such a masterpiece. But now, after witnessing the “Autobiographical Essay,” she was utterly convinced.

It seemed that most modern calligraphers could only master a single style, but Chen Nian, at such a young age, had already elevated two distinct scripts to the pinnacle of artistry!

The second round of the calligraphy contest was three days away. After submitting his work, Chen Nian left the venue without looking back. He had other matters to attend to and needed to hurry home.

From arrival to departure, Chen Nian hadn’t said a single word, carrying himself with the air of a true master. Watching him leave, Wei Xi, unwilling to let it end there, chased after him. Yu Wenqing tried to stop her, but it was too late.

“Hey! Wait!” she called.

Wei Xi caught up with him just as Chen Nian was mounting his small electric scooter.

“Do you need something?” Chen Nian glanced at the girl. Her delicate features were perfectly proportioned, her beauty striking even without makeup.

“Who is your teacher?” Wei Xi asked.

“Huh?”

Seeing Chen Nian play dumb infuriated her. “I’m asking, who taught you calligraphy?”

“Does one need a teacher for this? I was born with it,” Chen Nian shrugged. With a twist of the throttle, he sped away on his scooter.

“Hey! Wait! I said wait!” Wei Xi tried to chase after him, but the scooter was too fast. All she could do was stand by the roadside, hands on her hips, watching him disappear into the distance.

Having failed to uncover his background, Wei Xi returned to the venue and got Chen Nian’s contact information from Yu Wenqing.

Meanwhile, only two days remained until the second episode of “Who Is the Singer?” was to be recorded.

Xing Fei lay at home, her eyes full of despair, completely at a loss as to what song to perform next. She had boasted on the show that she would win the championship, but who could have guessed that after just one episode, Tianxing Entertainment had already broken off with Chen Nian.

As an artist under Tianxing Entertainment, she couldn’t privately seek Chen Nian’s help, and so she’d put it off until now.

Xing Fei rolled over, burying her face in her pillow.

Ding ding ding!

Just as she was about to give up and withdraw from the competition like Chen Nian, her phone chimed.

She checked her phone—it was a message from Chen Nian. She immediately sat up in bed.

She opened the message. Sure enough, it was a song demo.

Without even greeting Chen Nian, she hit play right away.

A gentle accompaniment began, followed by Chen Nian’s lively voice.

The demo was short, only about thirty seconds.

But in those thirty seconds, Xing Fei, who had already braced herself, was left utterly amazed.

With this song, the championship for the second episode was surely hers!

“Thank you, Senior Chen Nian!”

“But you’ve already fallen out with Tianxing Entertainment—is it really okay for you to keep helping me?”

“What, you don’t want it? If not, just give it back,” Chen Nian teased.

“I do, I do, of course I do!” Xing Fei replied three times in a row, showing just how much she valued the song.

“You called me your mentor on the show. If I let you lose, where would that leave my reputation?” Chen Nian replied.

Xing Fei was stunned once more.

“So, Senior Chen Nian, do you really plan to write songs for me all the way to the finals?” Given the quality of his songs, she was sure he could sell them to entertainment companies for a high price.

“Mm. Since I promised to help you win the championship, I’ll see it through.”

“But why? Why are you helping me so much?” After a long silence, Xing Fei finally voiced the question in her heart.

“Heh, well, you’ll have to think about what it is about you that’s worth my help,” Chen Nian replied with a faint smile.

At his words, Xing Fei glanced down at her bunny slippers, her face instantly flushing crimson.

“Obviously it’s your talent—what else could it be?” Chen Nian added at last.

Seeing this, Xing Fei flipped her phone face down and once again buried her face in her pillow.

“What the heck!”

“I’m clearly so pretty, with a great figure, and he only appreciates my talent!”