My Teacher is a Rebirthed Immortal

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There was a depression in the class, Hu Lai frowned, Ma Xin’s eyes flashed, and the pen in Guo Feifei’s hand fell to the ground…

They finally remembered who this man was.

Qin Ran’s eyes revealed a dangerous light, and then she stood up, with a hint of inquiry: “Could it be that Mr. Han is one of the eight major calligraphers in Jiangnan Province?”

There was a trace of pride on Han Zheng’s face, the original meticulous complexion, and the corner of his mouth could not help rising at the moment.

His most accomplished achievement in his life is not to become the head teacher of the genius class, but to honor everyone’s own calligraphy.

“Exactly, I didn’t expect that Principal Qin even knew something about calligraphy.”

Nowadays, there are fewer and fewer people engaged in calligraphy in Huaxia. After all, in the era of high technology, people don’t have to write often with pens.

But there is no doubt that the art of calligraphy has not been discarded, and even exudes a unique charm in its unique field.

But it is generally not a person in this field, it is difficult to know some modern calligraphers.

However, being able to get the title of the eight major calligraphers in Jiangnan Province is obviously not a waiter.

“The eight calligraphers in Jiangnan Province? Very famous? Why haven’t I heard it?” Chu Yi asked subconsciously.

“Teacher Chu…” Qin Ran was speechless. She still knew Chu Yi quite well in calligraphy. She didn’t think it was unclear. “Han’s position in the calligraphy circle of Jiangnan Province is equivalent to everyone in Tang and Song dynasties. Of course, this analogy is exaggerated a bit, but in Jiangnan Province, there are only seven other people who can compare with him. This is an honor awarded by the National Calligraphy Association, and Mr. Han won it before he was forty. .”

Everyone suddenly realized that looking at Han Zheng was a bit different. No wonder some people used to think that the name Han Zheng was familiar.

“My father once photographed Mr. Han’s copy, more than one million.” Hu said, looking dignified.

“My grandpa also likes Mr. Han’s words very much.” Guo Feifei said the same.

Chu Yi touched his nose and smiled: “Ahaha, it turns out that Mr. Han is so powerful…”

But his voice turned and said, “Then I will learn more.”

Can he flinch?

Obviously not.

It may seem like a harmonious competition, but it determines who will be more confident in the two schools in the rest of the year. The Education Bureau will even allocate funds accordingly.

The curved road is not a simple contest between teachers and students.

In short, these two schools have always been fighting in secret, otherwise, there will not be such exchange activities every year.

The problem is that Chu Yi invites wars like this, which means that the exchanges between the first and third middle schools will start in Class 18.

Qin Ran, Dong Guohao, and one of the teaching directors are in the heart of Qi Ran. How do you think that 18 classes are not capable of eating each other’s genius classes?

According to their scripts, this genius class was led into the experimental class of the third middle school, and the second class of the experiment was added, so that it was possible to compete, but now I did not expect that I got 18 classes…

It also attracted everyone such as Han Zheng.

Everyone’s eyes fell on Chu Yi’s body. Qin Ran was rarely nervous. Although she didn’t know how Chu Yi’s calligraphy accomplished, no matter how, she couldn’t compare with Han Zheng.

Does he really want to accept this challenge?

Chu Yi will not have a second choice.

Soon, the people moved to the battlefield and entered a special calligraphy classroom.

This is an interest club outside of class.

In the classroom, Mo Xiang burst out, refreshing.

“How do you compare?” Chu Yi asked directly.

With a big wave of his hand, Han Zheng smiled easily: “It is Mr. Chu’s suggestion. After all, I am already bullying the small. If I still let me decide, I won’t be honored even if I win. Some people will wait. It’s trouble to play rogue.”

“Who is this!” Wang Ling was indignant.

“Also calligraphy everyone, the sentences are ironic, and Mr. Chu’s words are still obvious to everyone, maybe they are finally turned over,” Ma Xin muttered.

But in fact, he also had a little guilty conscience. The name of the eight calligraphers in Jiangnan Province is not a bad street.

Han Zheng seems to have heard no dissatisfaction from the crowd, and is particularly tall here: “Meet friends with the word, don’t hurt the kindness.”

That being said, when he revealed his identity and played against Chu Yi, he was no longer a simple meeting friend.

Chu Yi looked at Han Zheng: “Making friends is also a prerequisite, that is, the person is a person.”

“You said I’m not human?”

“I didn’t say that, but there is one thing I will prove to you.” Chu Yi put down the ruthless words, “People’s life is like shit, sometimes you work hard for a long time, but only release a fart.”

In this field, perception, talent, and time are all important.

“It’s really arrogant, I won’t even hold the pen later.”

There was a smell of gunpowder between the two.

In the end, the two decided to write a “Jin Se” by Li Shangyin with Yan and Li Shu respectively.

The same poem and two different fonts can express completely different emotions and spirits.

There are no too solemn occasions, ink, is ready-made ink, not grinded out.

Han Zheng shot first, he was calm, focused, and stared at the rice paper, as if there was a painting there, a world.

Lifting the pen, dipping the ink, and passing slowly, the hair is sharp and sharp, with a beautiful arc, the ink is even, he does not even need to glance, this is the feel of the years.

Write a pen.

Stroke down, startled walking Youlong, not slow, full of strokes.

Chu Yi nodded again and again, face and body, originally focused on mellowness, fullness, and restrained strength.

One song was written, all in one go, with only ten breaths in between.

Then he raised the pen again and wrote the same “Jin Se” in Li.

“It is worthy of being a master calligrapher. This level is really pleasing to the eye.” The students of the genius class hold the winning ticket.

“Although I don’t understand calligraphy, I can see Mr. Han’s writing process and I feel attracted.” The senior high school’s teaching director gasped.

“Ms. Chu, do you really have a chance?”

Chu Yi shrugged, looked at each other’s two works, and said indifferently: “Can enter the stage and enter the room.”

“Entering the stage and entering the room? It seems that Mr. Chu’s level is very high. I want to see, in your eyes, what is the master level.” Han Zheng smiled angrily.

“It’s better to make a bet. The bet is that the person who wins writes the word Wang Ba on the face of the person who lost.” There is not much ink in Chu Yi’s stomach, but bad water can drown people.

“Good!” The three good words represent Han Zheng’s anger reached the limit.

Chu Yi no longer spoke much. Under the eyes of all eyes, he walked wisely to the desk, spread out two white rice papers, and picked up two brushes at the same time.

“No way……”

“Ms. Chu is about to…” The onlookers did not open their mouths.

But I saw that Chu Yi had already written, and both hands were writing at the same time.

The left hand is the face.

The right hand is Lishu.

The former is round in shape, with a sense of boldness, atmosphere and full beauty.

The latter, full of twists and turns, is like a voluptuous dancer, but full of pride.

Two fonts, two strokes, even if written separately, most people can’t control it, let alone written at the same time?

Everyone’s eyes were dumbfounded, everyone was dumbfounded, and their mouths opened involuntarily, but the sobbing voice in the throat couldn’t say anything, for fear of disturbing this extraordinary work.

Chu Yi was focused, but casual, and it was too simple for him to do two things, two arms, commanding Ruo Ru.

There is freedom in your heart, writing freedom!

As he read aloud, he worked hard to write a book.

“Jinse has no strings for fifty years, a string of thoughts and a string of years.”

“Zhuang Shengxiao dreams of butterflies, Wang Dichun heart cares for cuckoo.”

“There are tears in the pearl of the sea, the blue sky and the jade smoke.”

“This feeling can be treated as a memory, but it was already in sorrow.”

Whether it is anxious, slow, low, or high, the charm of the language, the charm of calligraphy, and the visual impact have brought everyone on the scene into a peculiar atmosphere.

As if at this moment, the whole world revolved around Chu Yi.

The nib that leaped on the rice paper spit out not the handwriting, but the sun, moon and stars.

What art, this is art, this is the shock brought by art.

Chu Yi was immersed in this path for thousands of years, realized his calligraphy, jumped out of the frame, and traveled to a higher sky.

Complete the language, write it, write it down!

The audience was silent and silent.