Even after the Poetry Gathering ended, Chen Yunfan still could not figure out how Chen Yi's calligraphy had reached such a level of mastery.
His mother had clearly kept him locked in the manor for three whole years. Without paper and brush during that time, how could he have...
Oh, perhaps he had used his hand as a brush, water as ink, and the ground as paper, practicing calligraphy alone in his room.
And his poetry was likely the same—each day, he must have recalled what he had learned before, which was how he had achieved what he had today.
As Chen Yunfan guessed at this, he suddenly sighed in his heart. "Mother, why did you lock Younger Brother Yi away?"
If Chen Yi had not been locked up, he likely would not have achieved what he had today.
"Father was right. A person who does not endure tempering will never become accomplished."
"Fortunately, I have already become accomplished."
Thinking of how he was now the Zhuangyuan of the Great Wei Dynasty, Chen Yunfan's face immediately revealed a trace of self-satisfaction.
He strode toward the academy's rear gate.
Earlier, he had declined Mr. Yue Ming and Li Huaigu's offer to see him off, so he was walking along easily now.
Who would have thought that just as he passed through a corridor, a girl behind and to the side called out, "Are you the Zhuangyuan?"
"I am..."
Before Chen Yunfan could even make out what the newcomer looked like, he turned his head and a handful of powder flew straight into his face.
He froze for a moment, then quickly covered his mouth and held his breath as he looked at her.
"Girl, what are you doing..."
Before he could finish, Chen Yunfan rolled his eyes back and fell flat