Chapter 88: How do you think about this calligraphy?

“`

For quite a while, her fingers gradually loosened.

The scroll was of good quality and bore no nail marks.

Zhong Zhiwan pursed her lips and glanced at the office.

Noticing that the others were still busy arranging the contest entries and had not paid attention to her, she breathed a sigh of relief.

She had been somewhat out of character just now.

Having replaced the scroll, Zhong Zhiwan’s expression turned cold.

She would never believe for a second that Ying Zijin was the author.

She had already seen Ying Zijin’s comprehensive profile at Old Master Zhong’s, detailed up to every year.

Qingshui County was economically backward, a poor village, where not only learning calligraphy was out of question but even having enough food was an issue.

And the calligraphy on this scroll could not be produced without decades of practice.

It was clearly the work of a master calligrapher.

Even her calligraphy teacher might not be able to produce such handwriting.

Could Ying Zijin possibly write this?

Zhong Zhiwan frowned.

She hadn’t expected Ying Zijin to actually contemplate cheating to win an award at the Arts Festival.

Driven by a lust for money, she really must be driven mad by poverty.

Zhong Zhiwan had never participated in the Arts Festival before, she turned and asked in a faint voice, “Has there ever been a student who cheated in the past?”

Hearing this, the ministers all stopped their work, somewhat surprised, “Cheated?”

“For example—” Zhong Zhiwan paused, “having someone else do the writing or painting, and then submitting it under their own name.”

“That…” the Minister of Literature and Art thought for a moment, “seems to have happened, from what I’ve heard from seniors, it should have been several years ago, when a student did that, submitting a master calligrapher’s work for the competition.”

“But given his age, he clearly couldn’t have written it, and what’s funnier is that the calligrapher was present that day and directly exposed it.”

“Due to the serious impact, the incident became an embarrassment broadcasted online, and the student was expelled.”

Zhong Zhiwan nodded, “I see.”

“So since then, no one has dared to cheat,” asked the Minister of Literature and Art, “Zhiwan, did you find someone cheating?”

“Not exactly,” Zhong Zhiwan smiled, “It’s not certain yet, can’t accuse arbitrarily.”

“Oh,” the Minister of Literature and Art didn’t say much more, lowering his head to record on the roster, “Anyway, whoever dares to do this is definitely doomed.”

Those with no intention to speak can provoke a reaction in those who listen.

Zhong Zhiwan thought for a moment, still took out the scroll, and left the office.

**

After leaving the activity center, Zhong Zhiwan headed towards the Elite Class.

On the way, she encountered students of Class 19 who had just finished PE.

Even from dozens of meters away, Zhong Zhiwan saw those students gathered around the girl, looking excited.

Even Jiang Ran and Xiu Yu, standing by her side, automatically subdued their own sharpness and vigor.

This was something that had never happened before.

Zhong Zhiwan wasn’t oblivious to the fact that ever since Ying Zijin left the Elite Class, a lot of things had changed.

And so had Old Master Zhong’s attitude towards her.

Zhong Zhiwan glanced at the girl, tightened her grip, covered the scroll with her backpack, and hurried away with her head down.

As if afraid of being seen.

“Why is Zhong Zhiwan running away hunched over like a thief?” Xiu Yu glanced and clicked his tongue, “She wouldn’t actually be stealing, would she?”

Ying Zijin, eating a lollipop, didn’t even look up, just indifferently responded, “Possibly.”

“But speaking of which, Daddy Ying, I’ve always felt like you—” Xiu Yu stroked his chin, “sometimes you seem like a fortuneteller.”

Ying Zijin turned her head, her phoenix eyes slightly lifted, “Fortuneteller?”

“`

“I just have a feeling you can predict the future,” Xiu Yu couldn’t quite explain it, vaguely, “Anyway, it gives off a pretty mysterious vibe.”

“Hmm,” Ying Zijin nodded, “Then I can give you a free divination.”

“Divination?” Xiu Yu was startled, “Daddy Ying, don’t tell me you’re a fortune teller.”

Ying Zijin, having finished her lollipop, finally said, “No.”

Fortune tellers usually rely on objects or supernatural sciences to probe into matters they wish to know.

Unlike prophecies, the results given by fortune tellers are ambiguous.

It’s the same with playing Tarot Cards.

She doesn’t do divination, she sees directly.

However, whether observing the future or the past, it would consume a lot of her energy, because it all involves causality.

So before she fully recovered, she wouldn’t use her Divine Calculation abilities.

Except for those things she could know with just one glance.

Like an ordinary person’s name, age, what they were about to do.

“I thought so.” Xiu Yu thought she was just playing and didn’t pay much attention, “But Daddy Ying, if you’re interested in divination, you could consider visiting the capital sometime.”

“There’s a Fortuneteller Family there, doing daily divination on the streets, but actually, they’re just scamming money.”

“What Fortuneteller, what do you know?” Jiang Ran, upon hearing this, scoffed, “They really can tell fortunes.”

“Tell fortunes my ass,” Xiu Yu burst in anger, “I was scammed by them once, pulled over while walking to draw some fortune slip, then they forced me to pay for the interpretation, swindling a month’s worth of my pocket money.”

She was so angry she smashed that fortune-telling stall.

Ying Zijin’s hand paused, deep in thought.

This way of handling things…

Hmm.

She yawned and returned to her class, starting another round of sleeping.

**

The art festival was set for April 6th, lasting three days.

All grades except for the third year of high school and ninth grade would have a holiday.

Ever since the incident with Ying Feifei, Old Master Zhong had taken a keen interest in every move of Verdant, and this time was no exception.

Two days before the art festival, on Saturday, he called Ying Zijin.

“Zijin, aren’t you participating in the art festival? How’s it going? Do you need grandpa to help?”

He knew the child hadn’t had the opportunity to learn these things before, and it was too late to hire a teacher now.

But he himself was a simple man, only proficient in playing chess.

“That’s great, grandpa will come and watch you,” Master Zhong happily agreed, “Don’t feel pressured, whatever you write grandpa will think it’s the best.”

Zhong Zhiwan was by the side, feeling more and more suffocated as she listened, and she made up her mind, standing up, “Grandpa, I’m going out for a bit.”

If it had been in the past, Elder Zhong would have given a bunch of reminders before Zhong Zhiwan went out.

But this time he didn’t say much, just waved his hand.

Zhong Zhiwan took a deep breath and left the Zhong Family.

She took a taxi straight to Eastern Shanghai City, arriving at a villa.

In the yard, someone was weeding, surprised to see her, “Zhiwan, what brings you here?”

“I came to see Senior Brother Lin,” Zhong Zhiwan walked up, “I also have something I want to ask him.”

This was her senior brother Lin Xi, with whom she had been studying under a calligraphy master.

Lin Xi wiped his hands and asked as he walked into the house, “What’s the matter?”

Zhong Zhiwan took out a scroll, unfurled it, and spread it on the table.

“Senior Brother Lin, what do you think of this piece of calligraphy?”

Lin Xi leaned over to look, first silent for a moment, then shocked, “Zhiwan, did you write this?”