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"Dad, allow me to introduce him," Yu Feibai quickly said. "This is Wang Guan, the person I mentioned to you. His body is certainly strong; he was just lying in the hospital the other day, and now look at him—bouncing around."

"Wang Guan..." Yu Shuzhong mused for a moment, hesitating slightly. "The one who... gathered so many treasures from leaks?"

"Hello!"

At this moment, Wang Guan felt a touch of flattered surprise. He hadn't expected a man burdened with so many responsibilities to even know about an obscure figure like himself.

Wang Guan swiftly sheathed his single-edged, curved blade and respectfully called out, "Sir... General."

"Hmm."

Yu Shuzhong nodded, his gaze sweeping over Wang Guan from head to toe, then shaking his head slightly. "A pity."

"Dad, a pity for what?" Yu Feibai asked, puzzled. "Also, Uncle Qi is here. It seems improper for you to leave him alone in the study to entertain guests and wander out by yourself."

Wang Guan had, to some extent, guessed what Yu Shuzhong regretted. After all, he had just been trying to persuade him to enlist in the military. But now, having learned Wang Guan's circumstances, he completely dropped the subject. It was likely Yu Shuzhong understood that, given Wang Guan's current condition, enlisting for such hardship was out of the question.

Thinking of this, Wang Guan sighed inwardly, realizing that people in high positions were indeed never simple. They could not only discern things from minor signs but also understood human nature profoundly.

"Since you know guests have arrived, why aren't you more alert? Go brew a pot of tea for them," Yu Shuzhong reprimanded, then took the initiative himself, grabbing a tea caddy from the hall and turning to ascend to the second floor.

"Got it," Yu Feibai quickly acknowledged, grabbing a tea tray, arranging the tea set upon it, and giving Wang Guan a meaningful look before following upstairs.

Simultaneously, Wang Guan reacted quickly. Following Yu Feibai's gesture, he picked up the electric kettle used for heating water and hurried up the stairs behind Yu Feibai into Yu Shuzhong's study.

The study was quite spacious, lined with three large bookshelves meticulously stacked with volumes of books, neatly ordered. Wang Guan estimated there were at least a thousand books, most of which appeared to be military texts, though there was a smaller collection on politics, history, and the classics.

At this time, Qi Qingguo was standing near the desk by the window, carefully grinding a broken piece of inkstone onto a square ink slab, holding the fragment in his hand. On the desk lay a stack of paper, along with brushes, a brush washer, and a paperweight—the accouterments of calligraphy. It seemed he was preparing to wield his brush.

Hearing the movement at the door, Qi Qingguo looked up and smiled. "Shuzhong, just pouring some water will do; no need to be so formal."

"I brought some fresh tea from the capital for you to sample," Yu Shuzhong said with a smile, walking over to the desk. He nimbly unrolled a sheet of paper, carefully laid it flat on the surface, and secured it with the paperweight.

In a nearby corner stood a water dispenser. Wang Guan filled the electric kettle halfway and set it to boil. He then glanced curiously at the desk and whispered, "They look like they're going to write something..."

"That Uncle Qi is an old family friend. When we were in Beijing, he and Dad often discussed calligraphy. Recently, he was invited by the Meishan Calligraphy and Painting Research Society to hold an exhibition in Meishan centered on Bashu culture. Coincidentally, Dad took up his post in Shu, so they arranged for him to visit and request a piece of calligraphy." Yu Feibai whispered, quickly setting out the tea service.

"Oh!"

Wang Guan nodded softly. Suddenly, he saw Yu Shuzhong take a new brush from the brush stand, soak it briefly in the brush washer, immediately take it out, and then use scissors to trim the tip.

Seeing this, Wang Guan asked in surprise, "Why cut the tip of the brush?"

"What else would we do? Write Feibai script, of course," Yu Feibai replied, his tone slightly awkward.

Wang Guan immediately laughed, realizing the connection: Yu Feibai had once mentioned that his father was skilled in Feibai (Flying White) calligraphy, which was why he had been given the same name.

Wang Guan knew a bit about Feibai script. It was said that during the late Eastern Han dynasty, the great calligrapher Cai Yong was inspired by a chance observation of craftsmen outside sweeping whitewash onto a wall with brooms. Each sweep left streaks where the wall surface showed through, creating an aesthetic of dry, wispy lines. From this, Cai Yong gained inspiration, practiced, and ultimately created the unique technique of Feibai script.

However, Wang Guan had heard much about the fame of Feibai script but had never actually seen it being written, so he was now very curious. He quietly asked, "Can we go over and watch for a bit?"

"Of course, no problem," Yu Feibai smiled. "If he's willing to write, he wants people to watch; he's eager for more appreciation."

As he spoke, Yu Feibai stood up and hurried over to the desk, diligently helping Yu Shuzhong organize the scattered papers like an apprentice.

At the same time, Wang Guan walked over and arrived just as Yu Shuzhong dipped his brush lightly in ink, licked the brush on the inkstone, and adjusted the tip.

A moment later, Yu Shuzhong raised his wrist slightly, holding the brush suspended in the air. After a brief pause, he brought it down. The slightly blunted tip glided across the paper. In just a few strokes, the ink was depleted, leaving behind only wisps of dry white lines. Watching Yu Shuzhong write, the strokes began with rich ink, lightening after a few turns. The dry lines ran parallel, with the turns emphasized to give the script a sense of upward momentum. As Wang Guan watched, he found the characters alternating between rigorous tension and clear elegance, possessing an indescribable charm.

Soon after, Yu Shuzhong stopped, placed the brush on its stand, stepped back a couple of paces, and examined his work, a clear satisfaction visible in his expression.

"The time will come to ride the wind and break the waves; I'll hoist my cloud sails to cross the vast sea."

At this, Qi Qingguo softly recited the lines, unable to contain his praise. "Shuzhong, your Feibai brushwork has become even more exquisite. It shows the imagery of fighting dragons and snakes, the contrast of swirling clouds and light mist, lightning speed, and effortless grace..."

"Qingguo, you exaggerate," Yu Shuzhong said, shaking his head humbly. "My Feibai script is good, perhaps, but not to the extent you describe."

"Not far off, though."

Qi Qingguo laughed. "It's a shame you can't dedicate yourself solely to calligraphy; otherwise, you would have become a renowned master long ago."

"The reputation of being a master is something I never dare to aspire to," Yu Shuzhong replied with a chuckle. "Qingguo, stop flattering me. I know exactly where my calligraphy stands. It's barely presentable, but compared to the masters of the Tang and Song dynasties, it’s a hundred thousand miles away."

"Heh heh..."

Qi Qingguo smiled and said no more. Yu Shuzhong's calligraphy was indeed good, and he praised it genuinely in his heart. However, being a scholar, he possessed a certain scholarly loftiness; he found it difficult to speak contrary to his true opinion by claiming the work rivaled the Feibai masters of the Tang and Song eras.

"Qingguo, what do you think?" Yu Shuzhong asked. "If you find it satisfactory, I'll add my signature and seal."

Qi Qingguo's face lit up, and he nodded. "It’s excellent. This piece of calligraphy is more than enough for my commitment."

Hearing this, Yu Shuzhong immediately took a smaller brush from the stand, dipped it in ink, and wrote the date in the lower-left corner of the paper. Beside him, Yu Feibai retrieved an exquisite box from a desk drawer.

Opening the lid, two seals were revealed—one square, one round—made of jade. They were crystalline white, reflecting a warm, gentle radiance in the sunlight, clearly indicating high-quality white jade.

Yu Shuzhong picked up one seal, dabbed it with bright red seal paste, and pressed it down steadily. A seal mark in relief, written in seal script, immediately appeared in the blank space on the paper. Yu Shuzhong then took the other seal and pressed it down beside the first.

Wang Guan looked on curiously. The two small seals were placed artfully on the paper, the bright red impressions soaking into the page, looking exceptionally clear and distinct. Each seal contained four characters, making eight characters in total across the two seals.

"Too many words lead to confusion; better to adhere to the central path."

Wang Guan carefully deciphered the inscription, reading it silently in his mind. He also felt these eight characters might carry a deeper meaning. It was only later, after researching, that he learned this phrase came from Laozi’s Dao De Jing: When speech is exhausted by too much enumeration, it is better to hold fast to the center. The meaning was that too many complex decrees lead to confusion and ineffectiveness; it is better to remain still and centered. Only then did Wang Guan understand why Yu Shuzhong had these two seals engraved. Perhaps it was not just because the words contained his name, but also because they represented his approach to governance.

"Qingguo, come have some tea."

After sealing the work, Yu Shuzhong wiped his hands with a towel. Noticing the water had boiled, he walked over to the table and began brewing the tea. The boiling water rushed in, releasing a misty steam and a rich aroma that was deeply refreshing.

"Shuzhong, I'm truly sorry," Qi Qingguo walked over, picked up a cup, finished the tea in one gulp, and sighed with a hint of apology. "Entangled in mundane affairs, I can only stay a short while before I must leave. I still have to visit Old Mr. Ren later to request a treasured piece of his writing."

"That busy?" Yu Shuzhong frowned. "Aren't you an invited guest? Why are you running errands?"

"This is a task I volunteered for," Qi Qingguo laughed. "After all, I've been away from my hometown for so long; it’s rare to return, so naturally, I must do something for the elders here."

"Mmm," Yu Shuzhong nodded, showing some understanding. Compared to the Meishan Calligraphy and Painting Research Society, Qi Qingguo, holding the title of National Arts and Crafts Master, carried more weight. If he took the lead in organizing the exhibition and inviting guests, it would be much smoother.

"Please accept this tea as a substitute for wine, and forgive my abrupt departure." Qi Qingguo drank another cup of tea, stood up to take his leave, and said, "Once the exhibition concludes, I will call on you again to apologize properly."

"You attend to your business; we'll gather when we have time," Yu Shuzhong said, unbothered, standing up to roll up the now-dry Feibai script. He courteously escorted Qi Qingguo downstairs and out the main gate.

Yu Feibai and Wang Guan naturally followed suit to see him off.

As they parted at the doorway, Qi Qingguo smiled. "The exhibition starts in three days. Shuzhong, you’ve just taken office, so you surely won't have time. However, Nephew Feibai, if you’re interested, you might visit Meishan to see it."

"Meishan..." Yu Feibai pondered for a moment, glanced at Wang Guan, and immediately agreed with a decisive nod. "Done. No problem, I will certainly be there then."