A second Wang Xizhi

Under everyone's gaze, Jun Wangchen spent roughly five minutes studying the two elders' calligraphy, moving back and forth between their works. His eyes were keen, his attention unwavering.

Whether out of respect for Zifeng Town or a desire to see Jun Wangchen embarrass himself, no one spoke during those five minutes. The atmosphere was unusually quiet.

Yet an inexplicable hint of anticipation hung in the air, as though everyone were waiting for a spectacle.

At last, Jun Wangchen stopped studying the works. After a moment's thought, he turned toward Elder Fei and offered his analysis. "Chinese characters are fundamentally square, but by extending and contracting the strokes and shifting their axes, they can take on all sorts of engaging forms, which combine into beautiful works of calligraphy.

"Your running script has already reached a level of expressive form, Elder Fei. It is upright and composed, with clearly defined orientations, orderly emphasis, and a stable center of gravity. More impressively, even the arrangement of the strokes achieves the golden ratio. It is truly an outstanding example of running script.

"However, it lacks a certain balance and rhythm, and could be slightly more concise. After all, running script calls for proportionate lengths and evenly balanced spacing."

Elder Fei froze, a gleam flashing through his eyes. He seemed to be pondering Jun Wangchen's words, yet also appeared stunned.

Jun Wangchen did not continue critiquing Elder Fei's work. Instead, he turned toward Elder Shi and spoke with easy confidence. "With cursive script, my first focus is on the lines. Your cursive work brings those lines out perfectly, Elder Shi, interweaving them with shades of ink. It is like flowers hidden amid the grass.

"Moreover, your brushwork is rich and varied, brimming with inner strength. The characters appear irregular, yet remain balanced and full of variation. The overall composition is magnificent, while the interplay between characters is exquisitely handled—elegant, yet firmly rooted in tradition.

"My only regret is that the composition lacks a certain order. As an artistic form of calligraphy, cursive script cannot allow its various elements to remain chaotic. They must be carefully ordered, or it cannot express the beauty of measured irregularity and the interplay between fullness and emptiness."

At those words, Elder Shi's pupils contracted, and he suddenly clapped his hands, like a man dying of thirst who had stumbled upon an oasis in the desert.

Although he and Elder Fei had practiced calligraphy for many years and produced plenty of fine works, what mattered most to people like them was not praise, but criticism and advice.

Only criticism and advice could reveal their shortcomings.

Unfortunately, as their fame grew, the criticism and advice they received became increasingly scarce. Instead, most people offered flattery and compliments.

That was precisely why their calligraphy had made little progress in recent years.

But today was different. Here was a young man who discussed both their strengths and weaknesses, preserving their dignity while making their failings clear.

This... was the critic they had truly wanted!

Everyone saw the expressions on the two elders' faces. The other critics exchanged glances, all somewhat startled.

How could this be?

Jun Wangchen was twenty at most. Young people his age were either university students or just beginning to make their way in society. How could he understand calligraphy so profoundly?

Even they had never considered the points Jun Wangchen raised, especially his suggestions.

Had calligraphers who had devoted over a decade to their art actually lost to a hot-blooded young man when it came to criticism?

They could scarcely believe it, yet had no choice. Jun Wangchen's critique had indeed identified the crucial issues in the two elders' works.

Zifeng Town was also astonished. Without more than a decade of dedicated study, no one could have used all those technical terms as fluently as Jun Wangchen just had.

Yet Jun Wangchen was only twenty!

More than a decade ago, he would still have been a child. Given his family's circumstances, they could never have afforded him such an excellent education in calligraphy.

That left only one explanation—an extraordinary, heaven-sent genius!

Zi Hanyan's lovely eyes sparkled, and the corners of her lips lifted, as though she were watching her knight conquer the field.

"You have a remarkably sharp eye, young friend. Every word of your critique struck at the heart of the matter. You must have studied countless works. Might we ask how your own calligraphy fares? Would you give us a demonstration?" Elder Shi and Elder Fei looked at Jun Wangchen together and asked with smiles.

Since Jun Wangchen's critique was so perceptive, his calligraphy surely could not be poor. If they could learn something from his work, their visit would certainly have been worthwhile.

"My calligraphy is ordinary, hardly worthy of display." Jun Wangchen waved a modest hand and smiled. "My brushwork is clumsy. I wouldn't dare show off before you two elders. Having the chance to comment on your excellent works is already a tremendous honor, so perhaps we should leave it at that."

"How could we do that?" The elders feigned displeasure and urged him, "Young friend, modesty is good, but too much isn't. We two old men have finally met someone who truly understands calligraphy. Surely you wouldn't have us arrive smiling, only to leave disappointed?"

"Well..." Faced with their sincere gazes, Jun Wangchen found himself in a dilemma.

Seeing this, Zifeng Town's eyes shifted thoughtfully, and he spoke up. "Young friend Jun, there's no time like the present. Since both elders are so eager, why not take up the brush? It will hardly take any effort!"

In truth, after hearing Jun Wangchen's incisive critique, he genuinely wanted to see what his calligraphy was like.

"Yes, yes! Dad's right." Zi Hanyan nodded with endearing eagerness, looking expectantly at Jun Wangchen.

"All right. If it turns out badly, I hope you'll all be forgiving." Jun Wangchen hesitated briefly, but ultimately did not refuse.

Once Jun Wangchen agreed, Zifeng Town immediately had Uncle Fang set out a sandalwood table and bring over the Four Treasures of the Study.

Jun Wangchen did not make a fuss. With a shrug, he walked up to a blank sheet of calligraphy paper.

He sank his breath into his dantian, his gaze sharpening. His entire bearing changed in that instant, and a scholarly aura slowly radiated from him, majestic as a dragon leaping through heaven's gate or a tiger reclining before a phoenix palace.

After a three-second pause, a timeless work of calligraphy surfaced in Jun Wangchen's mind. Without hesitation, his right hand darted out. The brush spun swiftly in his grasp, its movements unpredictable.

The instant Jun Wangchen lowered his brush, both elders and the critics behind them shuddered, as though they had witnessed something utterly unbelievable.

"Th-this... is this soul aura?"

Soul aura was the energy emanating from the primal souls of all things in the world, the equivalent of their souls.

Soul aura returned to heaven, while physical form returned to earth.

If an object could emit soul aura, it meant that object had gained spiritual awareness.

If a person could emit soul aura, it meant his soul was exceedingly powerful, capable even of communicating with the primal souls of all things.

Yet multiple kinds of soul aura had gathered around Jun Wangchen: his own, the brush's, the paper's, the desk's, and more.

Anything Jun Wangchen touched would spontaneously produce soul aura and become one with him.

"It is said that only the Sage of Calligraphy, Wang Xizhi, ever attained unity between human soul and object soul. This young man is only twenty, yet he has reached that same realm?" Everyone stared fixedly at the sight, their hearts churning with shock.

After all, Preface to the Orchid Pavilion had endured through the ages and earned its reputation as the finest running script under heaven precisely because Wang Xizhi had written it with bold, spirited strokes and lightly applied ink while his human soul and the object souls were united.

And now, Jun Wangchen had actually attained the same state Wang Xizhi had once achieved.

Could a second Wang Xizhi be born today?

While everyone's thoughts surged in turmoil, Jun Wangchen remained unhurried and composed, wielding his brush like a sprite dancing across the paper.

The suppleness of his brushwork resembled a flower-adorned dancer, graceful as she rose and dipped, then a beauty taking the stage or an immortal maiden playing with shadows—red lotuses reflected in water, rosy clouds floating over an emerald pool.

"In the ninth year of Yonghe, the year of the Water Ox, at the beginning of late spring, we gathered at the Orchid Pavilion in Shanyin, Kuaiji, to perform the rites of purification..."

After just that single line, a sharp gleam flashed through Elder Fei's and Elder Shi's eyes.

Jun Wangchen's running script was tranquil and natural, its strokes subtle and restrained, vigorous yet elegant. His brushwork was delicate, its structures varied. It was marvelous beyond words.

"Such bold, unfettered characters! Like a dragon leaping through heaven's gate, a tiger reclining before a phoenix palace—the strokes penetrate deep!" The critics' pupils contracted. They could hardly believe a young man barely twenty had written this.

Zifeng Town's eyes shone, his astonishment beyond measure.

A single glance at Jun Wangchen's line of characters evoked the grace of a startled swan and the fluid elegance of a roaming dragon.

It was like a light cloud veiling the moon, like snow swirling in a flowing breeze!

Beside him, Zi Hanyan could not help feeling admiration rise within her.

Although she knew nothing about calligraphy, she could see how Jun Wangchen's strokes extended outward with the soaring energy of a bird in flight. Their thickness and delicacy were perfectly balanced, their mastery humbling. His calligraphy was clearly extraordinary.

Everyone's stunned expressions did nothing to affect Jun Wangchen. By now, he had already poured his heart into his calligraphy.

"All the worthy men arrived, young and old gathering together. Here stood towering mountains and lofty ridges, lush woods and tall bamboo. Clear streams and rushing currents shone on either side, which we channeled into a winding watercourse to float our wine cups, taking our seats along its banks. Though we lacked the splendor of strings and pipes, a cup of wine and a verse of poetry were enough to freely express our innermost feelings."

"On this day, the sky was bright and the air clear, the gentle breeze pleasant and mild. Looking up, we beheld the vastness of the universe; looking down, we observed the abundance of all things. Thus our eyes could wander and our hearts roam freely, enjoying every delight of sight and sound. Truly, it was a joy."

His brush moved in one seamless flow, and the two passages gradually appeared on the paper. Both elders shuddered as though they had witnessed something profoundly shocking.

At that moment, Jun Wangchen's hand followed the vision in his heart. Straight strokes readily turned into curves, reducing their outward spread. His brushwork favored inward pressure, turning rather than folding at the corners. It was the flowing, uninterrupted execution associated with Wang Xizhi, bringing the qualities of running script to their absolute peak.

"A fresh breeze flowing from the sleeves, a bright moon held to the heart... th-this... this is Wang Xizhi's brushwork!" The critics trembled, nearly crying out in shock.

The Sage of Calligraphy, Wang Xizhi, had possessed lofty ambitions and abundant creativity. He had never merely followed in his predecessors' footsteps or copied their forms. Instead, he had used his own heart and hands to make the ancients serve his art, neither bound by antiquity nor estranged from his own age.

He had incorporated all the ingenious brush techniques of Qin and Han seal and clerical scripts, learned through a lifetime of extensive study, into regular, running, and cursive scripts. In doing so, he had created the finest forms of his era, innovating upon tradition and opening new horizons for later generations.

That was why Wang Xizhi was so revered for "drawing together the many methods to establish a school of his own."

And now, whether in technique or style, Jun Wangchen was no different from Wang Xizhi.

The characters he wrote possessed grandeur, spirit, breadth of feeling, emotion, and a vigorous elegance. All arose naturally, fully embodying the transformation of ancient methods.

Terrifying!

Truly terrifying!

Jun Wangchen was merely a twenty-year-old young man, yet his calligraphy had reached a level comparable to Wang Xizhi's!

There could be no mistake. He was a true... favored son of heaven!