When Chang Yuncheng got out of the car, Old Cao was standing with his hands behind his back, watching the guard put up couplets.

“Why are you coming back so late even during New Year?” he asked, somewhat displeased.

Cao Wenjun held onto the car door and retched for a while.

“Not only late, but empty-handed too,” he said.

“There’s nothing good here,” Chang Yuncheng said.

Cao Wenjun rolled his eyes.

“Is there nothing good in this world according to you?” he said. “I saw your wife taking quite a lot of tea back to her parents’ house.”

“You call that tea?” Chang Yuncheng frowned. “I told her, but she wouldn’t listen.”

Old Cao laughed heartily.

“Good that you’re here, good that you’re here,” he said, waving his hand with some pride. “Look, this is a couplet written by Master Bai that I managed to get. I went through great trouble to get it. I’m the only one on the whole mountain who got one. How is it?”

Chang Yuncheng looked up at the calligraphy.

Cao Wenjun curled his lips to the side.

“Hey, I’m telling you, instead of looking at the main gate here at my grandfather’s place, you ran off to some godforsaken county. Haven’t developed any other skills, but can you recognize all the characters now?” he said with a raised eyebrow and a smile.

Chang Yuncheng ignored him and finished reading the characters.

“Not good,” he said.

“Mm, Master Bai’s calligraphy is recognized as good… uh… what did you say?” Old Cao said, nearly choking.

“Mediocre,” Chang Yuncheng said, glancing at the calligraphy and looking away.

This level of skill could barely qualify someone to be a private tutor in someone’s home, but it wouldn’t do in their household—the Marquis of Dingxi would be the first to look down on it.

“How is your health?” Chang Yuncheng began talking about other topics.

Old Cao grabbed his hand.

“No, no, don’t change the subject,” he said. “How is it not good?”

“Grandfather, listen to him? Has he ever said anything was good?” Cao Wenjun said mockingly. “If it’s not good, then you write one and show us how it should be good?”

Chang Yuncheng looked at him.

“What I write isn’t good either,” he said.

“See, see, at least he has some self-awareness…” Cao Wenjun snorted.

“But it’s better than his,” Chang Yuncheng continued.

Cao Wenjun choked on his saliva.

The study door was pushed open by Cao Wenjun, who dragged Chang Yuncheng inside.

Old Cao slowly followed behind.

This was his study. Because he loved practicing calligraphy, brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone were all prepared.

“Write, write, come on, come on, Lord Guan, show us how you wield that big blade,” Cao Wenjun said, pushing Chang Yuncheng to the desk.

Chang Yuncheng smiled.

“Come on, come on. Write something. It’s fine. If you don’t know any characters, ask me, I’ll tell you,” Cao Wenjun said again.

Chang Yuncheng glared at him. Out of habit, he reached to support his sleeve with one hand, but then realized he didn’t need to support sleeves anymore.

Yes, everything was different now.

He was slightly stunned for a moment, then picked up the brush.

This crude brush, ink, paper, and inkstone…

This was still the life of someone with high status here.

Looking at what they ate, drank, used, wore, and adorned themselves with…

How pitiful.

An expert knows immediately if there’s skill. Old Cao’s eyes lit up.

Chang Yuncheng looked at the paper for a moment, picked up the brush and wrote a line, then put down the brush.

“Let me see…” Cao Wenjun said with a snort, but before he could step forward, Old Cao pushed him aside.

“You understand jack shit, move aside,” Old Cao said, positioning himself in front of the desk and looking at the few characters on the white paper.

Cao Wenjun saw that Old Cao fell silent after going over.

Was it too ugly to comment on?

Of course, it was up to him to help his grandfather out of this embarrassment.

He craned his neck to look.

“Liao liao zhe… wo, fei shen me yi hao…” he read aloud.

Old Cao slapped him.

“Get lost, you’re embarrassing yourself,” he glared and scolded.

Cao Wenjun covered his head and stood aside with an aggrieved expression.

What the hell, those characters looked weird…

Old Cao looked again and sighed.

“Good, good,” he said, nodding at Chang Yuncheng.

He said “good” twice in succession, and had nothing else to say.

“Not good,” Chang Yuncheng still said, looking down at the characters on the paper.

Compared to his father’s calligraphy, his writing was very poor…

Among the siblings at home, his calligraphy was also the worst…

So bad that when he was little, his father was too lazy to even hit his hand with a ruler.

It was almost New Year…

Chang Yuncheng coughed lightly.

“Old sir, I won’t disturb you further. I’ll be going now,” he said.

This visit to an elder was really treating himself like family…

Cao Wenjun stared.

Old Cao looked at him and nodded.

“Go ahead,” he said gently.

Chang Yuncheng bowed and turned to leave.

“Yuncheng,” Old Cao called him back. “During the New Year, bring the child over to play. Old people like me love children the most. Seeing that you have children, continuing the bloodline—this is the most comforting and joyful thing.”

Chang Yuncheng turned around and smiled at Old Cao.

“Alright,” he said, his mood obviously much better. He bowed again in thanks and left.

What gibberish was he talking about?

Cao Wenjun curled his lips to the side, seeing that Old Cao was still looking down at the writing.

“Grandfather, what does this say?” he asked boldly.

“I keep telling you to read more books, read more books, but you don’t read. You went to university and graduate school—what the hell did you study!” Old Cao glared and shouted.

Cao Wenjun looked dejected. See, see, he was always the unlucky one.

He quickly turned and slipped away.

But what did those characters really say?

Cao Wenjun returned to his room and opened his computer. So what if he didn’t recognize the later characters? With a computer in hand, he owned the world!

He typed in the first two characters.

A line appeared on the computer screen.

“Book of Songs,” he muttered, curling his lips. “What a show-off.”

Just as he was looking, Old Cao’s voice came from downstairs.

Cao Wenjun hurried downstairs.

“Take down that couplet,” Old Cao shouted to the guard.

Cao Wenjun stumbled and stopped in surprise.

“Grandfather?” he called out.

This couplet had been so hard to get, and now…

“…go call Yuncheng back. Have him write a couplet for me,” Old Cao said again.

Cao Wenjun almost fell down the stairs.

What a joke!

The New Year period was both the most leisurely and the busiest time.

In a luxury private room at the Beijing Hotel, Cao Wenjun sat restlessly, unable to contain his anxiety.

“Has he come yet?”

“Should we call again…”

“Should we go personally invite the master…”

Four or five men of various ages and builds kept talking.

“Oh, stop giving random suggestions,” Cao Wenjun said, interrupting their chaotic chatter. “This guy will definitely come if he says he will. If we call again and annoy him, he won’t come!”

“The master has quite a temper,” a thin man said.

“Of course, if he didn’t have a temper, how could he be a master?” a fat man said, touching the large golden ring on his hand. “Young Master Cao, you must put in a good word for me. I must get a piece of calligraphy no matter what, even if it’s just one character. Money is no object.”

This immediately caused dissatisfaction among the others.

“Fat Huang, you think you’re the only one with money?”

“Move aside, I clearly arranged with Young Master Cao first…”

“Young Master Cao, I’m the most urgent. My old man’s birthday is coming up. He hasn’t eaten or drunk for days because of the calligraphy hanging at your grandfather’s house. You must get me one no matter what. My future depends on your word!”

The room immediately became chaotic again.

The door was pushed open at this moment, followed by several anxious-looking waitresses.

“Young Master Cao, this person says he’s looking for you…” they called out uneasily, while looking at the man standing by the door.

A very handsome man. But his appearance at the moment was somewhat strange.

The room also quieted down, everyone looking toward the door, all somewhat stunned.

A tall, well-built man stood at the door, wearing a simple suit, with a child on his arm and carrying a diaper bag in his hand.

The child was wrapped in a bright red cloak. Having removed the hood due to the hotel’s heating, she revealed a delicate, jade-like face and was looking at everyone curiously, with a finger in her mouth, drooling.

“Yuncheng, you’re finally here!” Cao Wenjun called out. “Quick, quick, we’ve been waiting for you.”

This was… the master…

The people in the room not only didn’t come to their senses but became even more stunned.

The man walked in carrying the child, and the first sound to fill the room was the babbling of the child.

“What do you want me for?” Chang Yuncheng said, sitting down while skillfully pulling the child’s finger from her mouth and taking out a square cloth from the diaper bag to wipe the child’s mouth.

“To write, write calligraphy,” Cao Wenjun said, staring at him, or rather at the child, so much that he forgot to make small talk.

The others in the room also came to their senses and gathered around.

“Master Chang, your calligraphy is famously excellent. I wonder if we could request a piece of your work,” someone said eagerly.

Before others could speak, the child in Chang Yuncheng’s arms began crying for some reason.

This was a little girl, not yet one year old, who couldn’t speak properly and was waving her hands while babbling.

“What do you want?” Chang Yuncheng looked at the child and asked, pointing at things on the table in front of him. “This? This?”

Finally, he picked up a spoon and gave it to the child.

The child grabbed it happily and grinned.

Chang Yuncheng also smiled, then looked at the person who had spoken earlier.

“What do you want?” he asked.

The people present twitched at the corners of their mouths…

“It’s like this, Chang Yuncheng, everyone wants to request calligraphy from you,” Cao Wenjun said, looking at the child in Chang Yuncheng’s arms. “Is this your daughter?”

Chang Yuncheng grunted in acknowledgment. When talking about his daughter, his face showed a smile. He switched the child to his other leg and removed her cloak.

“Uh… Qi Yue isn’t at home?” Cao Wenjun couldn’t help asking quietly.

“She’s at home,” Chang Yuncheng said.

“Then why did you bring the child out?” Cao Wenjun said.

“Is that any of your business?” Chang Yuncheng looked at him and said.

It really isn’t my business, Cao Wenjun raised his hands in surrender.

“You want me to write calligraphy? Why?” Chang Yuncheng asked.

“Because your calligraphy is good,” Cao Wenjun said irritably.

Chang Yuncheng smiled.

“How good is it for you?” he asked quietly.

Cao Wenjun’s face reddened at the question.

These people had come to him, and if he could get the calligraphy, he would naturally benefit considerably…

And these benefits could generate even more benefits.

He was about to say something when Chang Yuncheng stood up.

“Fine, where should I write?” he asked the people in front of him.

Not expecting the master to be so agreeable, everyone was very pleased and pointed to the desk that had been prepared.

Chang Yuncheng took two steps, then remembered something and handed the child to Cao Wenjun.

“Hold her,” he said.

Cao Wenjun took the child in a daze.

The little girl, suddenly separated from her father’s embrace, wasn’t frightened but curiously examined Cao Wenjun.

Cao Wenjun, holding a child for the first time in his life, was immediately at a loss, his whole body rigid, staring at the child eye to eye, then forcing a smile.

“Baby… baby…” he said in a trembling voice.

The child grinned, took the finger she’d been sucking on out of her mouth, grabbed Cao Wenjun’s face, and babbled something.

Cao Wenjun grimaced.

Oh my god…

Could he throw her away?

So dirty…

Drool…

My clothes…

Don’t touch my clothes…

The child’s crying filled the room.

“Chang Yuncheng, Chang Yuncheng, she’s crying, she’s crying!” Cao Wenjun held the child rigidly with both hands and shouted, his face terrified.

“If she’s crying, coax her,” Chang Yuncheng said while picking up his brush to write.

How… to coax?

Cao Wenjun stared at the wailing child, almost ready to cry himself.

The other men in the room also gathered around. To avoid affecting the master’s writing—this sounded strange, but a master who brought a child was indeed a first—but never mind, they couldn’t affect the master’s writing as it concerned their futures. So everyone came to coax the child, but none of these people had ever taken care of a child. For a moment, various suggestions flew.

“Sing a song… oh little darling…”

“Oh god, fat guy, stop singing, you’re scaring people to death…”

When everything finally quieted down, Cao Wenjun slumped on the sofa, watching the man efficiently changing the child’s diaper.

“Tell me, have you been taking care of the child in Nanyun all this time?” he asked.

“Yes,” Chang Yuncheng said, finishing dressing the child and taking out a bottle, shaking it and testing it on the back of his hand before satisfyingly giving it to the child.

The little girl happily held the bottle and drank.

“No way!” Cao Wenjun shouted. “Have some ambition, will you?”

Chang Yuncheng stood up, holding the child in one hand and carrying the bag, looking at him.

“You can’t even take care of a child. What ambition do you have?” he said, then strode out.

Cao Wenjun sat on the sofa, still not having recovered.

Damn, what does being able to take care of a child have to do with having ambition!