Novel Lived
Chapter 382
Chapter 382 - Then He Wrote a Calligraphy Calligraphy Calligraphy Calligraphy
“Alright, I'll go fetch the writing supplies!”
With both Jiang’s father and Jiang’s mother chiming in, Jiang Hao found it impossible to decline.
Besides, he had been planning to do so anyway!
After acknowledging their request, Jiang Hao turned and headed back to his bedroom to retrieve the ink and brush.
Once there, he pulled out the spiritual brush, ink, and paper from the System Space.
Returning to the living room, Jiang’s mother quickly cleared the coffee table while Jiang’s father assisted Jiang Hao with his items.
With the paper laid out, Jiang’s parents stood by, watching intently.
It was then that Jiang’s mother, her nose twitching, asked with astonishment, “Hao Hao, where did you get this ink? It smells wonderful!”
Jiang’s father agreed, nodding, “Indeed! I noticed last time how fragrant this ink was. It seems to have a calming effect on the mind!”
Hearing their comments, Jiang Hao replied with a smile, “Dad, Mom, this ink is quite pricey—it costs a fortune! The paper, brush, and ink were all custom-made; you can't find them just anywhere.”
Jiang’s parents murmured to each other in response, “Such extravagance!”
Jiang Hao didn't dwell on the matter. Instead, he pondered what to write.
“Dad, what do you suggest I write?”
Jiang’s father, a book enthusiast with a solid foundation in literature, was the perfect person to ask for advice.
After a moment of contemplation, Jiang’s father suggested, “Something with a commanding presence, a powerful poem, would be best. ‘The Swordsman by Jia Dao' has the right vigor:
‘Ten years spent sharpening a sword, its frosty blade yet untested. Today, before you, I present it—who dares to contend with injustice?'”
The words flowed effortlessly from Jiang’s father.
Taken aback by his father's recitation, Jiang Hao did not hesitate to act. He channeled the chaotic energy within him, transforming a portion into scholarly aura, infusing it into the Violet Spirit Brush he held.
Instantly, a faint purple mist wafted from the brush.
Then, with the flourish of his hand, Jiang Hao's brush danced across the paper, and a commanding poem sprang to life on the page.
As Jiang Hao's pen brought each character to life, they began to emit a faint, milky white glow.
The characters seemed to come to life, moving across the paper in a display of magic.
Jiang’s parents watched in astonishment. Jiang’s mother, barely containing her excitement and not wanting to wake Zixuan, whispered urgently to her husband.
”Wei Ping, did you see that?”
“The characters were glowing with a white light!”
“And look, are they moving?”
Jiang’s father, having witnessed this once before, was still amazed.
He nodded vigorously, his excitement palpable.
He hadn't been mistaken last time; his son's writing was truly extraordinary!
As Jiang Hao finished, an image of a sword, sheathed and mysterious, materialized on the paper.
The air around them seemed to drop in temperature as the sword's shadow took form.
But the anomaly lasted only moments before vanishing as quickly as it appeared, leaving the paper ordinary once more.
Jiang’s parents were left staring, their faces etched with shock, a shiver running through them.
Jiang Hao himself seemed surprised by the outcome. He quickly rolled up the scroll.
“Dad, let's get this calligraphy framed tomorrow and hang it in the living room,” he suggested.
Jiang’s parents snapped out of their daze.
Jiang’s father, swallowing hard, accepted the scroll from Jiang Hao.
Then, with a decisive look at his son, he spoke.
“Your writing is too mystical. I've decided to learn how to frame it myself. I can't trust this to anyone else.”
After everything that had happened, Jiang’s father wasn't willing to leave his son's work in the hands of others.