Chapter 147: Student, the Student Has Succeeded!

Chapter 147: Students, the Students Have Arrived!

When Chen Yi had sorted out the matter, he couldn't help but feel a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

Professor Yue Ming had gone to great lengths to obtain his calligraphy samples.

Yet the Cloud Pine paper, a rare material reserved for the esteemed Cloud Pine family, to use it for teaching calligraphy was indeed extravagant.

Chen Yi observed the students seated before the blackboard, realizing they likely harbored similar thoughts.

He guessed that most would, after the word "extravagant," add the word "wasteful."

Generally, they weren't too convinced of this new instructor.

After some contemplation,

Chen Yi didn't write out the usual formalities as he had seen the previous day, but instead sat calmly, grinding his ink stone with steady hands.

As he ground the pine smoke ink in his inkstone, he began to speak:

"Before I begin the lesson, I need you to consider a few questions."

"What is 'character'?"

"What do you think the 'writing' in the Six Arts refers to? What is the 'method' in 'calligraphy'?"

"And finally, what is the 'Dao' in 'the Way of Writing'?"

At these words, all the students paused, glancing at one another, unsurprised.

It was to be expected that a new instructor would pose questions to test them.

Only they hadn't anticipated that Chen Yi would ask such simple, straightforward questions.

Soon, one student stood up, bowed respectfully, and said, "Student believes that 'character' is the foundation of the arts, without which the achievements of countless past sages and the transmission of history and literature would be impossible."

"Writing is simply writing, recording all things in the world."

"In calligraphy, the 'method' refers to the various techniques: pictographic, symbolic, associative, phono-semantic, transformed, and borrowed meanings."

"As for the 'Dao' in 'the Way of Writing'—"

This student, more mature in appearance, paused, shook his head, and said, "Student is unaware, please, Master, enlighten us."

Chen Yi slightly nodded, looking at the others, and smiled, "Are there any differing views?"

Immediately, someone stood up to voice their own opinion.

One after another.

Some agreed with the initial mature student, others differed, and some even took an unconventional path.

In the end, no one gave a perfunctory answer; each had their own understanding.

Even the youngest among them could articulate his reasoning.

Though upon reflection, this was not surprising.

These students had earned the right to study at the prestigious Cloud Pine Academy, having passed the imperial examinations and read numerous texts; they had the insight to do so.

When all had spoken, Chen Yi looked at their faces, filled with a thirst for knowledge, and smiled, saying, "All of you are correct, only your understandings differ."

Then, Chen Yi took up a wolf-hair brush, dipped it in ink, and walked to the lectern.

He did not attempt to force a uniform understanding among the students, as it was unnecessary and meaningless.

After all, he was not one of those old scholars who merely recited the classics, nor did he intend to follow convention blindly.

The myriad paths of the world all lead to the same destination; in the end, they were all teaching the "Way of Writing."

Chen Yi paused, centered his spirit, and with the brush, wrote three characters.

One: pictographic. Two: Wei Qing's style. Three: running script.

Different strokes, yet all the same character: "Writing."

As he wrote these three characters, Chen Yi set his internal energy in motion, stirring the heavens and earth.

When the brush was lifted, a fragrant glow appeared on the Cloud Pine paper.

Moreover, he deliberately left some traces of the Dao in the characters, giving them a distinct sense of elegance and freedom.

After finishing, Chen Yi stepped back. Just as he was about to speak, he noticed the gazes of Ma Guan and others drawn to the characters.

The previously quiet classroom erupted with murmurs.

"Fragrant glow appears, the Way of Writing is complete."

"No, no, it's more than that, there should be the Master's artistic conception, the brushwork like a painting... magnificent?"

"This must be the completion of the Way of Writing!"

Chen Yi slightly raised an eyebrow, glancing at a student seated behind the blackboard, a tall figure, and realized this one had a certain discernment.

The appearance of the fragrant glow signified the minor completion of the Way of Writing; the artistic conception was the major completion.

However, seeing this, Chen Yi did not rush to speak.

After the murmurs had settled, he smiled among these students, who were now looking at him with admiration, reverence, or confusion, and said, "How do you like it? Not bad, right?"

"Er... "

Ma Guan and the others were taken aback.

At this time, most professors in the academy were learned men, considering themselves gentlemen, favoring humility and seriousness.

Even if the three characters on the Cloud Pine paper were indeed impressive, if written by others, they would likely humbly say, "Still need to practice diligently."

But Chen Yi, so straightforward in his praise, saying "Not bad," left them stunned.

Moreover, what he said next made them even more bewildered:

"You can achieve it too, it's really not difficult."

Though his voice was quiet, it struck them like thunder, leaving them at a loss for words, remembering only the two words "achieve it."

"Not difficult?"

"I can do it too?"

"If it's not difficult, how many master calligraphers have there been in the Great Wei dynasty, yet so few can write characters that display their fragrance?"

After a moment of muttering, Ma Guan was the first to regain his senses, rising respectfully with a bow:

"Please, Master, teach the students the Way of Writing!"

Combined with the previous questions, he had completely understood the Traveler's intention—

Not only to teach them writing and the method, but also to transmit the Way of Writing!

Seeing this, the other students naturally caught on, one after another rising to bow:

"Please, Master, teach the students—the Way of Writing!"

Chen Yi, upon hearing this, merely nodded, and gestured for them to sit back down, smiling, and said,

“The very questions I have raised stem from their role as the bedrock of the craft of ‘Shu.’”

“They are precisely what I intend to impart to you, including the Way of Writing.”

“Of course, I can only assure you that each of you will gain something. Whether you may pass through the gateway of the Way of Writing depends on both innate talent and diligent effort.”

Having spoken these words, he cast a surveying eye around the room.

Seeing that their expressions had shed their earlier disdain, he knew he had exposed the pit that Master Yue had dug for him.

“Then, the first lesson…”

In the hours that followed, Chen Yi wrote not a single character, nor did he let these students practice any characters on the sand table.

He spoke only of the questions they had previously raised.

To uncover the profundities of the Way of Writing, so that he might clearly articulate what constitutes language, what constitutes calligraphy, and what constitutes the Way of Writing.

Soon, the sound of a bell echoed outside the scholar’s studio, and the group only then realized how swiftly an hour had passed.

Chen Yi himself understood that a break had arrived, and he summoned Ma Guan, distributing the calligraphy practice sheets during the interval.

Yet as the students recorded the words, they also noticed the evaluations on their sheets.

“Chen Chuan’s assessment of me is poor; my characters are irregular and unruly.”

“You’re doing better than me; mine is extremely poor, alas…”

Overhearing their muffled sighs of disappointment, Ma Guan gazed at the two characters beside his name—“Good Below”—and felt a muddle of emotions.

Uncertain whether to laugh or to succumb to the same disappointment as the others.

Chen Yi took in their reactions, yet offered no words of consolation.

Instead, he tapped the cypress paper and smiled: “Compared to this, is my assessment not quite fitting?”

Thereupon, even the most optimistic student could not help but lower their head, their thoughts scattered with self-reproach.

Not long after, the break concluded.

Chen Yi offered no lengthy discourse this time, but instead evaluated each student’s calligraphy according to their practice sheets.

He pointed out their flaws and offered corrections, all while coming to know each student personally—at least matching names to faces.

“Master, a student named Fang Huan, whose style name is You Da.”

“You Da, your foundation is weak; your characters and strokes lack proper structure. Practice writing a hundred characters daily with care.”

“Ma Guan, you are among the best in the studio at writing characters…”

In half an hour, he had pointed out the issues, and in the remaining half-hour, he instructed them to write the character “Shu” on the sand table.

“Remember, the strokes and forms are secondary; the essence of the Way lies within yourselves.”

“When the brush moves with intent, free of any scattered or careless strokes, one has entered the gateway…”

…

Not far from this scholar’s studio stood a residence.

Master Yue sat with Zhuo Ying and several other masters, engaging in idle conversation and board games, the atmosphere quite convivial.

Yet occasionally, a tall, black-clad guard from the academy would rush in, presenting scrolls upon scrolls.

One such scroll bore these words:

“Writing is writing, the Way is the Way.

Writing, like martial arts techniques, is a craft, a method.

The Way is inherent in Heaven and Earth; if all your thoughts, reflections, and actions align with the Way, you may attain it.

The text is brief, yet simple and clear.

Master Yue read the scroll, his gray-white beard pressed in his hand, and sighed:

“I always knew teaching Chen Chuan’s calligraphy would not be difficult, but I never imagined he would teach the Way of Writing.”

Beside him, Zhuo Ying, his face serene and posture upright, nodded with a smile:

“Such a spirit of openness is beyond the reach of ordinary folk.”

“It is easier to speak of practicing the Way of Writing than to actualize it.”

“Like us, after decades of writing, have we not yet produced a single character that displays its vitality?”

Master Yue nodded, gazing at the scroll as if in thought:

“Chen Chuan’s understanding of the Way of Writing is truly unique.”

“Later, I shall try a few things; perhaps I might gain some insight.”

Zhuo Ying bowed his head: “I shall try it as well. Until now, bound by propriety and the teachings of our ancestors, I have never dared to express my true feelings.”

“Upon careful thought, some of Chen Chuan’s words do hold merit.”

The two elderly men seated beside them, engaged in a game of Go, also nodded:

“Indeed, he has not hoarded his tools for himself; it is truly unexpected.”

“Compared to some who are skilled in scheming, he is far superior.”

Master Yue noticed their gaze upon him, realizing they were speaking of himself. He lifted his head and declared:

“Rather than let Chen Chuan waste ink on the sand table, I would rather spend more coins at the academy.”

“If you are displeased, the calligraphy scrolls I have reserved for each of you shall be yours.”

One of the elders laughed and scolded: “Think not of it! We agreed each of us would keep one scroll from the lessons.”

“This time, it was Chen Chuan’s path that was lacking; he wrote only three characters, so the fault lies not with others.”

“What…?”

As the masters chattered merrily, footsteps echoed outside the door.

From afar, the voice of a stout, black-clad guard reached them:

“Master Yue, Master Zhuo, it is time, it is time!”

“It is time!”

Master Yue furrowed his brow, eyeing the guard whose face was bright with excitement:

“What is it?”

“Students, the students have achieved it!”

Seeing his animated expression, Master Yue and the others exchanged glances, their minds racing toward a possibility.

“Do you mean, the students have attained the Way of Writing?”

The guard: “Yes, yes! I saw… no, no, I saw the characters written by Ma Guan and Master Ma, faintly revealing their vitality!”

“Truly?”

“Absolutely true!”

Mr. Yue Ming, too preoccupied to ask further, rose immediately and walked outside, his face similarly aglow with excitement.

Others, upon seeing this, hastened to follow suit.

"The fellow named Ma and Ming usually writes characters that are only within the rules, aren't they?"

"What if it were true?"

"Why, there's no need to mention it—our esteemed Yunshan Academy has found a treasure!"

This treasure, of course, isn't Ma Guan.

It must be Chen Yi, the one who can teach people the Way of letters and martial arts—Chen Qinzao!

(End of chapter.)