Chapter 148 - 147: Unexpected Favor

Chapter 148: Chapter 147: Unexpected Favor

"Methods?" Shi Tiexin asked curiously. "What kind of methods could you have? Don’t tell me you can control the judges?"

"Control the judges? Bullshit! If I had that kind of power, why would I be messing around with you little brats? I’d be out making big money! Besides, what’s the use in controlling the judges? If no golden light appears, the whole competition becomes a joke. You can’t monetize that!"

"So what’s your plan?"

"Watch me!" Situ Zhennan looked left and right, his eyes suddenly lighting up. He sidled up to another, more popular piece. Blending into the crowd, he made a few plausible-sounding comments before abruptly changing the subject. "But I think that little piece of cra—that work over there isn’t bad either! It’s no worse than this one, and the finer details are even more brilliant!"

The calligraphy enthusiasts all asked which "little piece of crappy writing" he meant. Situ Zhennan immediately led a group of them over, then intentionally raised his voice, leading the crowd in a heated debate, some nodding and others shaking their heads.

Shi Tiexin was speechless.

’Isn’t this just like those ads you see in the review sections for amateur web fiction? This kind of promotion is inefficient, time-consuming, and rarely effective. Only new authors trying to get started would stoop to this. Still, it’s pretty pathetic. The work written by yours truly, Old Tie, needs this kind of method for publicity. It’s truly a cry of desperation...’

Situ Zhennan’s efforts did have some effect. At the very least, they managed to gather a bit of a crowd around Shi Tiexin’s work. At its peak, more than ten people were gathered there, observing and critiquing it.

Situ Zhennan shot him a look. Shi Tiexin, his face impassive, raised his camera. SNAP. He took a close-up of the man looking spirited and triumphant. ’If this photo were framed with a caption below it reading, "Praised by people from all walks of life," it might actually look somewhat convincing.’

Shi Tiexin calculated in his head. ’This photo is probably Situ Zhennan’s biggest prize today. I wonder how many more points of funding the old baldy can swindle with it.’

As expected, this promotional tactic was simply too outdated. Situ Zhennan tried the same trick several more times, but the crowd remained lukewarm. After a while, he grew discouraged.

Shi Tiexin found a chance to slip away and went back to watching the old-timers in the park and their calligraphy. ’You have to fill the hole you dig, but ultimately, filling it depends on real skill, not cheap tricks. Making a big splash at the local preliminary exam is what really matters.’

These park grandpas loved to show off their knowledge, rattling off poems and idioms one after another. Situ Zhennan’s only gain might have been a single photograph, but Shi Tiexin was reaping a harvest of little stars.

After sticking it out for a few more moments, a deflated Situ Zhennan left.

Not long after Situ Zhennan departed, a duo—one middle-aged, one young—slowly ambled over. The two were dressed in archaic fashion, with wide robes and long sleeves, giving them a very vintage look that normally would have drawn stares. However, many in the calligraphy exhibition hall favored historical clothing, so their attire wasn’t entirely out of place. Moreover, the two seemed to have used some sort of Spell to lower their presence.

The pair strolled by serenely, leaving no trace, not even disturbing a speck of dust.

The middle-aged man, with an air of calm detachment, asked casually, "We’ve nearly seen it all. Any thoughts?"

"Well, I’m thinking City Lord Shen of Tumu Castle really spent a fortune inviting you to be a judge," the young man said with a grin. "But inviting you is basically the same as inviting me. I can’t be expected to work for free, right? So, this appearance fee... you think you could spare a little for me?"

"You’re never serious." The middle-aged man wasn’t annoyed, just smiled faintly. "It seems nothing has caught your Dharma Eye."

"My evaluation can be summed up in five words: All bark and no bite." The young man shook his head. "The best of them are only at the level of a park old-timer. Nothing special."

The middle-aged man retorted, "You look down on park old-timers? I enjoy practicing my calligraphy in the park myself."

"You’re different." The young man glanced around casually, offering a placating reply. "You’re still young. A long way from earning the title of ’old-timer’."

"You little rascal!" the middle-aged man chided with a laugh, then resumed his role as a judge. Just then, they both saw Shi Tiexin’s calligraphy and, at the exact same moment, let out an involuntary, "Hm?"

They both went "Hm?" and were then both surprised that the other had done so as well. The middle-aged man asked, surprised, "What was your ’Hm?’ for?"

The young man blinked.

’What was my "Hm?" for? It was for the contestant’s name! I was just surprised to see that "good-hearted person" here, so I let out a "Hm?" without thinking.’

’Ugh, if I say that, won’t it kind of kill my cool image?’ So the young man didn’t answer, instead asking, "And what was *your* ’Hm?’ for?"

"Hah, turning the tables on me, are you!" The middle-aged man moved closer to Shi Tiexin’s work for a better look. With his level of mental cultivation, he should have been able to give it a cursory glance and understand it completely in moments. But to the young man’s surprise, the middle-aged man studied it meticulously for a long time!

Only then did the young man realize that what made this piece noteworthy wasn’t that it was "from an acquaintance," but that there was something more to it.

So, the young man also leaned in to take a closer look. ’Hmm, the characters are neat, the strokes straight and balanced. The fundamentals seem very solid. He should have a cultivation of Perfect-level Basic Rhetoric, First Layer—but that’s all.’

’A perfect-level first layer is something I’ve seen plenty of times. It’s no big deal.’

’So what in the world is this guy next to me looking at?’

The young man watched the middle-aged man, who, after a long period of careful observation, finally exhaled and said, "To be able to spot the subtlety in this piece... it seems you’ve truly improved."

"Not at all, not at all." The young man accepted the praise with a hint of shame. "I still need your guidance."

"Alright, then I’ll elaborate." The middle-aged man looked at the calligraphy and said seriously, "I am truly surprised that here in Tumu Castle, a small border town, the cultural lineage is not broken."

The young man was startled. "Cultural lineage?"

That was not a term to be used lightly.

"Correct." The middle-aged man stared intently at the piece. "Although it’s very immature, it truly possesses the style of a great master. It’s a cultural lineage passed down from the Orthodox Eight Methods of Standard Script from Central Star. And it has deep connections to my own lineage."

"Oh?!" The young man’s eyes widened as he peered at it again—’Hmm, still don’t get it.’ But he had absolute faith in the middle-aged man’s words, because this man was a true heir to a cultural lineage from Central Star, a calligrapher of the purest orthodoxy.

’Forget it. I shouldn’t even ask for that judging fee. My skills are clearly not up to par!’

The middle-aged man looked at the calligraphy and nodded in praise. "Heh, it seems that although Tumu Castle is a small border town, it is, after all, a lineage left behind from ’that era.’ It cannot be completely underestimated. Like a tree struck by lightning, dead on the outside but alive within. Who knows when a nurturing rain will fall and perhaps bring it back to life."

"Your evaluation of this piece is quite high." The young man glanced at the "good-hearted person’s" name, and a thought struck him. "It seems you intend to name this the champion?"

But the middle-aged man shook his head decisively. "No. While it has the makings of a master’s style, it is still far too immature. This calligraphy is just like you—full of potential, but lacking refinement. It does not deserve excessive praise."

The young man looked abashed.

The middle-aged man said seriously, "As a judge, I must be fair and impartial. Objectively speaking, there are many contestants whose skills surpass this. This piece would, at best, place for third prize."

The young man, however, chuckled. "But looking at this entire exhibition, this is indeed the only piece that made both of us go ’Hm?’"

"That’s not wrong," the middle-aged man admitted. After a moment’s thought, an idea came to him. "How about we do this..."