115 The Dragon Flies, the Phoenix Dances! (1)

It did not matter if Ye Xuan really understood it or if he was a culture snob. Those who were fated would naturally understand it.

Liu Haikang and Ye Xuan chatted for a while. Putting aside their identities, he also admired Ye Xuan very much.

Now that he heard Ye Xuan's explanation of calligraphy, his heart couldn't help but heat up. He invited him and said, "Chairman Ye, do you want to practice calligraphy? Why don't we go upstairs and interact?"

Ye Xuan saw that the people around him were eager and nodded in agreement.

"Everyone, follow me."

The Liu family villa had its own elevator. Under Liu Haikang's lead, they went to the top floor.

The top floor had been turned into a study by Liu Haikang. The furniture inside was still a pool of fragrant rosewood, showing his financial strength.

The Four Treasures of the Study, namely brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, were placed on the abnormally wide desk. In the middle of the paper was a stack of good rice paper with paperweights on it.

There were a few Zhejiang calligraphy brushes on the brush rack. They were also outstanding brushes, and each one was expensive.

Liu Yanran did not know calligraphy. She walked straight to the bookshelf.

As soon as she walked over, she stared at the many thread-bound books on the bookshelf. She was very curious about this.

"Chairman Liu, can we open these books to take a look?" Liu Yanran asked very politely.

Many book collectors hated it when people flipped through their antique books with their bare hands, because the water vapor in people's hands would decay the ancient books.

If one really wanted to read the books, they had to put on a pair of dry white gloves on their hands to read the books.

However, Liu Haikang didn't mind. He waved his hand generously. "Director Liu, just read the books!"

Meanwhile, Liu Yun followed behind silently.

Almost no one could understand his current feelings.

His father was too different from his usual self. He could not accept it for a moment.

He even missed his calm father.

Liu Haikang walked to the inkstone and ground some ink.

The surging black liquid actually had a strange fragrance.

Ye Xuan simply raised his nose and sniffed it before guessing the source of the ink. "It's Hui Ink. Director Liu is really a particular person. The things and tools he uses are all excellent."

Hui Ink was the best ink. It could be determined from its color and unique fragrance.

Such ink was worthy of an antique inkstone.

Liu Haikang finished grinding the ink and walked to the desk. After thinking for a moment, he wrote a poem on the paper like a flying dragon.

It was the poem that Ye Xuan had praised Deng Shiru for.

"It is rare to be as pure as snow and also know that wealth is fleeting."

Once an expert made a move, the truth would be revealed.

The moment Liu Haikang picked up the brush, his entire aura changed.

Under his control, the brush moved quickly on the paper.

It was a simple line of words, but it had a grand aura.

With each stroke, it was as if Liu Haikang's many years of life experience and his comprehension of life had been integrated. Every word was filled with stories.

When everyone saw Liu Haikang's writing, they couldn't help but praise him.

"Chairman Liu is indeed well-versed in the Dao. The essence of these words is completely reflected!"

"It's really good calligraphy. It's as if it can penetrate the back of the piece of paper! It feels like the writing paper weighs a thousand kilograms!"

"The words are majestic. Father, your character has all fused into these words!"

When Liu Haikang heard everyone praise him like this, he hurriedly laughed and waved his hand. "Everyone, please don't praise me. I'm the one who can't be praised the most. Once I'm praised, I get proud easily. You're trying to flatter me!"

Hearing Liu Haikang's humorous self-deprecation, everyone laughed out loud. The atmosphere became very friendly.

Liu Haikang had loved calligraphy since he was young. Even after doing business for many years, he had never given up on this hobby.

According to him, practicing calligraphy could calm his mind and allow him to face the worries and trivial matters in his life more peacefully.

This practice lasted for decades. The foundation from decades of practice was written on paper, so the effect was naturally stunning.

Liu Haikang looked at the line of words he had written on the desk and felt very satisfied. He even felt that it had completely exceeded his usual standards.

After putting down the brush in satisfaction, Liu Haikang turned to look at Ye Xuan and asked, "How is it, Chairman Ye? Why don't you write one as a practice?"

Ye Xuan simply agreed without thinking. "Okay."

When Liu Yun, who was standing at the back, heard Ye Xuan agree, his face was filled with shock and disbelief. He said to his father, "Dad, it's not that I want to criticize you, but you're bullying me! You've been practicing calligraphy for decades. How old is Brother Ye?"

As Liu Haikang's son, Liu Yun was already in his twenties while Ye Xuan was only eight years old. If word got out, people would scold him for being disrespectful.

At the thought of this, Liu Yun quickly turned around and said to Ye Xuan, "Brother Ye, don't be fooled by my father! He's from the Jinling Calligraphy Association. Moreover, he won several gold medals in provincial-level calligraphy competitions a few years ago. Don't be fooled!"

Liu Yun didn't know whether Ye Xuan didn't understand the value of these awards or didn't care at all. Ye Xuan shook his head with a smile and said, "The first stage of practicing calligraphy is form. Whether it's calligraphy, cursive, or clerical script, you need to grasp their characteristics, practice their essence, and integrate your own understanding."

The moment Ye Xuan said this, everyone present was attracted and pricked up their ears to listen carefully to what he said.