Wang Yi turned to glance at Huang Rixin, a faint smile appearing on his face.
In reality, "Shoot however feels comfortable" didn't apply to everyone. It only worked for certain players in certain situations.
If someone had never shot a basketball before and you told him to shoot however felt comfortable, he'd have no idea what to do.
He'd never shot before, so every stance would feel unfamiliar. And if it was unfamiliar, it would feel uncomfortable.
Some people even thought shooting granny-style felt comfortable. Did that mean they should shoot granny-style in a real game?
That advice was meant for people who had already done some shooting drills and knew how to jump, how to generate power, and how to position their hands.
They had already learned some shooting techniques, but their accuracy wasn't very good. In that situation, telling them to shoot however felt comfortable could often make a big difference.
As they talked, Wang Yi brought Huang Rixin to his office.
Huang Rixin wasn't sure what was going on.
Wang Yi laid out the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone on the desk. Then he took out a long-tipped Wolf hair brush, loaded it with ink, and paused for a moment to gather his thoughts.
Calligraphy wasn't like the work of so many online influencers who grabbed a brush and started writing. Their writing might look bold, flowing, and magnificent, but in reality it lacked both structure and spirit.
A true calligrapher had already composed the work in his mind before putting brush to paper.
The shape of each character, the way its strokes interwove, the spacing between characters, the flow of energy from one line to the next, the pace and rhythm of the brushwork... Every detail had already taken shape in the calligrapher's mind. Then he