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His nearly dried-up blood boiled within him, echoing contanstly with one thought: The future of the Fan Family seems promising!

So excited were his lips that they began to tremble.

Seeing this, his grandson quickly pulled back his treasured great-grandson and gave him a few smacks in front of him, which only made him tremble even more with anger.

His grandson started to apologize, explaining that the great-grandson was always like this, having moved many books from the study to read, and even wanted to lay his hands on the ancient books in his great-grandfather’s study.

He would ask questions incessantly, annoying people to no end, asking if he was disturbing him, then pretending to want to hit his treasured great-grandson again.

His anger boiled over, and he couldn’t help but stand up and point at his foolish grandson, berating him harshly, calling him a dunce, an imbecile, saying he was clouding a brilliant pearl with dust.

Fortunately, he discovered this; otherwise, who knows how this idiot would have wasted the hope of the Fan Family?

He never imagined that on his deathbed, he would discover that there was such a treasure among his descendants!

He couldn’t help but feel relieved. Thank goodness it wasn’t too late; otherwise, he would die restless, uneasy even on the Yellow Spring Road.

But looking around at everyone in the room, he felt desolate once more. Apart from his youngest great-grandson, each one was mediocre. He couldn’t rest easy, this pearl must not be buried by these mediocrities.

Thinking this way, he suddenly felt strength returning to his body.

After not feeling much appetite for a long time, he suddenly felt an emptiness in his stomach and a growling hunger, so he asked for a bowl of porridge.

Having shooed away the other bothersome descendants, he only kept his treasured great-grandson, having decided to personally mentor him from now on.

His Majesty’s grace was boundless. Upon hearing of his critical condition, he bestowed upon him a great honor by visiting him personally. However, it just so happened that he was seen drinking his porridge, an awkward detail we’ll leave unmentioned for now.

The reason he wanted this disciple so much was that he couldn’t bear to leave his youngest great-grandson behind.

When an eagle is young, it needs protection; when a grand tree is tender, it needs sunlight and rain.

Even the most talented individuals need someone to shield and guide them carefully.

He was so old, he didn’t know when he might pass away, and his great-grandson, being only in his teens, was too tender; he really couldn’t rest easy.

What he saw in this lame examinee wasn’t just the amazing talent displayed, but also the noble spirit inherent in the student’s writing, lacking any stubborn pedantry. Given time, he was sure to become a great man.

If possible, he wanted to take this disciple under his wing, to teach him as much as he could, to help him grow.

He also hoped the student would appreciate his teachings and protect a thing or two of the Fan Family after his departure, and ideally, take his great-grandson as his student. Then, he could rest completely at ease.

If his great-grandson could support the family for just two more generations, he would be fully satisfied. Whether future descendants would be successful would be for his treasured great-grandson to worry about. He would have fulfilled his duty to his ancestors.

After learning that this student was filial and upright in his conduct, unafraid to speak his mind directly during the Imperial Academy examination, he admired him even more. His resolve to take this person as his disciple became even stronger.

No, he had to think of a plan. He couldn’t let Feng Lianian succeed!

An ignorant upstart, thinking he could discourage him so easily—how little he knew him!

As the Minister of Rites thought this, his murky old eyes shone with a keen light, and he stroked his beard with a slight smile. Competing with him? Hmph, they were still too green...

Lian Musu didn’t know that two ministers were vying for him, even turning the world upside down over him.

Right now, he was waiting for Minister Jia to calm down. After writing two pieces of calligraphy, Minister Jia seemed to grasp his intention, mumbling unclearly to himself and acting crazy for quite a while.

The students of the Imperial Academy were indeed very studious. Once Minister Jia fell into this dazed state and stopped minding them, they turned their attention to him, vying with each other to ask him about techniques for practicing calligraphy.

He answered each question in turn, stating that there was no shortcut to practicing calligraphy, and that diligent practice was the only way, though he could teach them how to practice more effectively.

This was something he had come to understand during his exile.

When Minister Jia snapped back to reality, he saw the young man sitting surrounded by a group of Imperial Academy students, discussing the topic of the imperial examination with eager eyes, listening very seriously and with full attention, presenting a harmonious teacher-student relationship, while he himself sat alone on the other side.

He felt there was nothing wrong with this scene—it should be exactly like this—since he couldn’t help but feel eagerness in his own eyes as well.

The young man had clearly meant to give him a hint, and he had grasped the deeper meaning, feeling a sudden enlightenment. His longstanding mental block had been broken and, given time, his calligraphy was sure to improve by leaps and bounds.

The young man had written two pieces of calligraphy, both in the style of Master He, resembling yet not resembling Master He’s work.

The first piece was a meticulous imitation of Master He’s writing, deeply etched as if carving into wood.

Had he not seen it with his own eyes, he would have truly believed it to be Master He’s work.

It was indeed far superior to his own—his resembled the form but not the spirit, while the young man’s work nearly achieved both.

The second piece was still in the style of Master He, with similar characters, but it carried a distinct flair. At first glance, one could see the difference, having a unique charm of its own, not merely a slavish copy like his own attempts.

Immediately, he understood the underlying message: when practicing the calligraphy of the great masters of the past, one should copy the form, while the spirit and essence should be one’s own contribution.

Over the years, his obsession with calligraphy had led him into stubbornly focusing on the external form, seeking a deeper understanding but instead finding himself in a dead-end, which had a great impact on his own writing.

The more he strived without the right method, the more his inner discontent grew, gradually turning into an obsession, causing him to forget the original intention of expressive calligraphy.

Not only had he made no progress, but his skill had also stagnated and had even started to look nondescript.

If this continued for much longer, he might even lose his own style.

Today, this young man must have seen this, using two pieces of calligraphy to awaken him; otherwise, he would still be trapped in his dilemma.

After Lian Musu provided insights into another topic, he noticed Minister Jia staring intently at him and stood up to ask, "Are you feeling better, sir?"

Minister Jia responded with a counter-question, "Why do you want to help me?"

The surrounding students were puzzled, but a few sharper students understood what was happening.

Lian Musu, somewhat abashed, admitted frankly, "The truth is, sir is quite fearsome, and the student merely wanted to draw your attention in hopes of a gentler attitude towards him."

Minister Jia was startled and then burst into hearty laughter. The boy wouldn’t take credit for his actions and even dared to openly jest about him being fearsome. He certainly has the guts and is quite to my liking!

The Imperial Academy students in the room also laughed along. Brother Lian, speaking such blunt truths—not only is his scholarship excellent, but he’s also quite amusing. However, Minister Jia’s laugh is even more intimidating than his frown!

The students stopped looking at Minister Jia and laughed towards other places, worried that looking at him might scare the laughter out of them.

The laughter of the whole room scattered the sparrows on the tree outside.

An elegant elderly man had been quietly listening near the wall outside; now, with a smile on his lips, he stepped inside.

A student with sharp eyes, still laughing, suddenly noticed the man and exclaimed in surprise, "Mr. Qin!"