Chapter 10: 'Tai Si Kong' the Calligraphy Painting of Tranquility Part II
In front of the Meeting Room One
Qing Qing waited in front of the meeting room for a short while before the door was opened. Xiao Qing bowed to the television series director, with whom she was very familiar, and the crew as well.
“Hey, Qing Qing. What are you doing here?” A man in a suit with purple-tinted black hair asked. He had a narrow face and his body was tall and distinguished. The man was not only a famous model that teenage girls were obsessed with at the moment, but he was also Qing Qing’s childhood friend.
“A senior in my department had me bring you this.” Qing Qing handed Xi Mo the envelope.
“Oh, has the documentation regarding the new commercial already arrived?” The sound of Qi Fong, who was Xi Mo’s manager, was sounded as he walked out of the meeting room.
“How’s the internship going?” asked Xi Mo.
“Some departments are really hard on me. But I will do it anyway,” answered Qing Qing.
“Hang in there for a bit. My internship was like that, too. They are trying to test our patience. Some people in this industry are even more demanding. A celebrity manager’s duties are to conceal your emotions, control your expression, keep your dissatisfaction inside, and successfully fulfill your duties. Not for themselves, but for the celebrities under their management. Got it?” Qi Fong lectured Qing Qing, as he saw her as his junior.
“I got it. All right. I have to get going.” She acknowledged his words. Qing Qing had dreamed of being a model. But a professional had told her that she could not be a model. After trying many times, she quit and decided to work as a celebrity manager. She thought that if she could not pursue her own dream, she would be someone who helped others successfully achieve their dream of entering the entertainment industry.
“Mm-hmm,” replied Qi Fong.
After Qing Qing had left their sight, Qi Fong turned to Xi Mo. When the man saw his manager’s gaze, he knew the other person had something to say about Qing Qing.
“What?” asked Xi Mo.
“Do you want me to help her get into this business? I’d say that with the way she walks, with a little bit more practice, she could be a model, even though her height is nearly not standard,” Qi Fong said.
“What if Mr. Meng Jia says that she could never be a model? Do you think she can still be a model?” Xi Mo asked. The question made Qi Fond pause.
“Well, there’s nothing I can do if that person says that,” answered Qi Fong. Meng Jia was the owner of the world's number-one fashion brand. It seemed like the man was a relative of Meng Dong, Qing Qing’s grandfather.
“If you want to help her, you better not let her know, because Qing Qing and I don’t like using our granddads’ connections,” Xi Mo said.
“I can see you both are really close. If I didn’t know you, I might think you secretly liked her. But you just didn’t realize your own feelings,” said Qi Fong.
“That will never happen. We know each other inside out. She looks calm and collected, right? Wait until you see her lose her temper. She transforms from a bunny into a skunk in an instant!” Xi Mo said with a smile, thinking about Qing Qing’s puffy cheeks when he teased her. He thought that this kind of feeling was the type that a brother had for a sister.
“…” Qi Fong had never thought that Xi Mo could critique his childhood friend this harshly. It contrasted with the polite and gentle personality that he usually saw.
“Let’s get some coffee. We can read the contract while we are drinking, too,” suggested Xi Mo.
“Mmm, that sounds great,” Qi Fong agreed.
Xi Lua Real Estate Company
There was a room for Xi Lua to relax in or use as his second home on the top floor of the building. The old man had just finished showering. He used his smartphone to upload Bai Zhe’s painting onto the calligraphy painting enthusiast club’s website before going to sleep. Xi Lua did not realize that it would cause insomnia to the members who saw his post.
[Th…this is…] Menn the Monk commented.
[Mr. Xi, how did you get this painting?] Old Imp commented.
[The signature reads ‘Bai Zhe.’ Anyone know this master?] Henpecked Dirty Old Man commented.
[Does anyone feel the power coming from these characters like me?] Cramp or Gout commented.
[The poem is beautiful. The diction the rhythm, and the rhyme are correct. This is clearly a priceless national treasure.] Monk Jumps Over the Prison Wall commented.
[Where is Xi Lua? Hurry, answer our questions.] Menn the Monk commented.
[I think he fell asleep. He likes to post before going to bed.] Chen Feng commented.
[I have emailed him about how I want to see the painting with my own eyes. He might see it tomorrow. He likes to read these emails when he wakes up.] Royal Concubine Jang commented.
After that, everyone asked for Xi Lua’s email. They wanted to see the painting as well. They could feel its power even though it was just the post. They could not imagine how powerful it could be if they saw it in reality.
In the end, they got Royal Concubine Jang to gather all the names of the people who wanted to see Bai Zhe’s painting and email this name list to Xi Lua.
Bai Zhe, who was writing his novel, was not even the tiniest bit aware of the mess created by the calligraphy painting that he had painted for Xi Lua. He stopped writing at 11 p.m. He then cleared everything up before taking a shower and going to sleep.
The Next Day
Bai Zhe woke up and found that it was still dawn. Also, his mother had not woken up yet. Thus, he did what he had said he would do yesterday—cook. He cooked his parents both breakfast and lunch.
When Bai Lian Hua came out of the bedroom, she found a note and the food that had been prepared and neatly wrapped in plastic.
‘Where is he going this early?’ she thought.
Bai Zhe’s Junior High School
At that time, Bai Zhe was already at the building’s rooftop, continuing to practice his qi.
He went to his classroom when the bell rang. Even though his classmates and his homeroom teacher were still uncomfortable with him, they looked rather more relaxed.
After School
Bai Zhe packed his stationery and his books into his schoolbag, ready to head to the Nightfall Antique Shop, in accordance with the appointment he had made with Xi Lua’s secretary. But he was stopped by the head girl.
“Bai Zhe, today is your turn to clean our classroom.” She stood with her hands on her waist, her eyes locked on him. The other kids watched with bated breath. They were afraid that Bai Zhe would curse the head girl.
“It’s already clean.” Bai Zhe had secretly used his qi to clean the entire room. No one had noticed because all of their attention was on the confrontation between the boy and the head girl.
“That blackboard…” Before the head girl could finish her sentence, she saw that the board the teacher had written the lesson on was now clean.
“If there is nothing else, I will go now. Bye.” Bai Zhe stopped paying attention and left, leaving the head girl and the classmates confused.
The Nightfall Antique Shop
Bai Zhe opened the door and walked in. There were three people in the shop sitting at the counter: Elder Fu, Xi Lua, and a man he did not know, who appeared to be close to Xi Lua.
“Xiao Bai, you are quite punctual.” Xi Lua stood up and walked over to Bai Zhe.
“Oh, this is the artist of that calligraphy painting?” Meng Dong got up and followed Xi Lua.
“Bai Zhe, if you are this good at doing calligraphy, are you interested in making calligraphy paintings and sending them to me to sell?” said Uncle Fu.
“I don’t think so. There are many masters whose skills are better than mine in the calligraphy art industry. I am just a bottom-of-the-barrel nobody creating rudimentary works in their eyes,” answered Bai Zhe.
“Most of them are not that narrow-minded,” said Xi Lua.
“I still have to say no, sir,” Bai Zhe insisted.
“Oh, Xiao Bai. I am Meng Dong, Chairman Xi Lua’s friend. I saw your painting the other day. I have to say that it is the best calligraphy painting I have ever seen,” Meng Dong said.
“You praise me too much, Mr. Meng,” said the boy.
“Not at all. I am the one who had Xi Lua make this appointment with you. I want to ask you if you could make me a piece. And of course, I will pay you as much as Xi Lua did,” Meng Dong said.
“Mmm. Yes, sir,” Bai Zhe agreed. He wanted to ease his parents’ burdens. The more money he had, the more he could ease their burdens.
Uncle Fu immediately prepared the equipment. Bai Zhe quickly began wielding the brush with gestures like a master who had had decades of experience in the industry.
Uncle Fu’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened as he watched a kid that he had been known for years showing this hidden talent. As a person who traded in antiques and art pieces for decades, he could see the ability that the boy was showing.
Meng Dong was excited, too. Though Xi Lua had seen the boy’s creativity work before, he was still impressed.
“It’s done.” Bai Zhe put the brush down.
The three men gathered around the painting. This time, the poem talked about a Chinese monk whom everyone called the Living Bodhisattva of Da Xian.
“…” The three of them did not say anything. After they had read the poem that narrated the tale of Tai Si Kong, they could feel the happiness, the happiness that came from true tranquility.
Yes. Bai Zhe put the purpose [tranquility] into the painting. He thought that it would help relax people who were of an advanced age and worked hard both physically and mentally every time they saw or read the painting.
“The name of this piece is ‘Tai Si Kong,’ isn’t it?” After he absorbed enough of the feelings, Meng Dong turned to ask Bai Zhe.
“Yes, sir. It tells the story of a monk who travels around the continent to seek solitude and help people and animals,” said Bai Zhe.
“Did you take it from somewhere? A book? A historical record? I have never heard of this story,” Xi Lua asked, being a bookworm. He did not think that he would miss a book or a rare historical record that contained such wonderful content.
“I made it up. For certain, it is in the novel that I have been writing. I just adapted it to be a ballad,” answered Bai Zhe.
Chapter 11: National Treasure and the Martial Artist in the Park Part I
“Ahh, the novel you said you have been writing. This Tai Si Kong ballad is brilliant. You are good at using words,” said Xi Lua.
“You flatter me too much. I don’t think my language is good enough (at least for this world),” said Bai Zhe.
“Did you bring your manuscript? I want to see the progress of your writing, or if there is anything that needs to be edited.” Xi Lua asked.
“Yes, sir.” Bai Zhe opened his bag and handed over the notebook in which he had written the novel. 'Yu Gong, the Greatest Swordsman' was written on its cover.
Xi Lua opened the notebook to read its contents. He saw the unique, yet easily legible, handwriting of Bai Zhe. Once he had read it, the man could imagine all the situations that had been described in the story as if he had been a part of them himself.
“This… This is…” Meng Dong, who also read the book with his friend, was amazed. He had never read martial arts fiction whose scenarios were written in such vivid language.
Time passed. Mr. Fu did not dare to interrupt the two men who were concentrating on reading Bai Zhe’s novel.
Bai Zhe was waiting expectantly for the feedback on the novel from the men. He wanted to know whether it reached their standard or not because it was written in a style that was outdated by millennia for this world.
Thud.
Xi Lua closed the notebook. At first, his face was filled with satisfaction, but that changed to curiosity afterward. Meng Dong, who was beside him, had the same reaction.
“Do you have more?” asked Xi Lua.
“I finished writing the one you’ve just read last night. Is the writing…good?”
“It’s not just good. With the story this enjoyable, you could win this year's new writer award,” said Meng Dong.
“Is it to that level?” asked Bai Zhe. He had never thought that people in this world would like ancient literature.
“Yes, that’s right. Meng Dong and I could not stop reading it until we finished it all. I can guarantee that it will be a bestseller. Only a stupid publisher would reject your novel,” said Xi Lua.
“Mr. Xi, do you know how to send this to a publisher? I don’t have any knowledge in this area,” the boy asked.
“I know someone. There will soon be an exhibition for the calligraphy painting that you made for me yesterday. Apart from having you here to do calligraphy for Meng Dong, I wanted to bring you an invitation to the exhibition. I will introduce you to the head of the editorial team of a famous publisher at the event,” said Xi Lua, handing Bai Zhe a simple, yet elegant, white gold-rimmed invitation card.
“Thank you, sir.” Bai Zhe bowed, accepting the card.
“No need. I am glad to do this. You showed me your intention of taking care of yourself and your parents. Remember. When you get the money, use it wisely. Be its master, not its servant,” Xi Lua said. His tone was not overly serious because he had been given a report about how Bai Zhe had spent the money he had withdrawn. He had deemed it to be appropriate, so he wanted to continue supporting the boy.
Ring, ring.
The bell at the front door of the shop rang. When the door opened, a young man who was an up-and-coming male model walked into the shop, his eyes searching for his grandfather.
“Grandpa!” exclaimed Xi Mo immediately when he saw his grandfather.
“Oh, Xiao Xi. You’re here,” said Meng Dong, opening his arms wide. Xi Mo gave him a hug, which the old man returned.
“Long time no see, Grandpa Meng,” said Xi Mo, loosening his embrace. He regarded Meng Dong as his own grandfather, the same way that Qing Qing also regarded Xi Lua as her own grandfather.
“Xiao Xi, are you free today?” Xi Lua came over to hug his grandson before noticing that Qi Fong, Xi Mo’s manager, was behind him and looking at his watch.
“I’m free for about 2 hours. First, I went to your company and your secretary said that you were running an errand at the Nightfall Antique Shop. Now, we have about 5 minutes left. I have work after this,” said Xi Mo.
“That’s all right. Knowing that you haven’t forgotten me makes me happy enough,” Xi Lua said.
“And who is this boy behind you?” asked Xi Mo.
“Oh, this is Bai Zhe. I made an appointment with him to do a calligraphy painting for Old Man Meng,” answered Xi Lua.
“Ahh, so this is Master Bai,” said Xi Mo. He bowed to the boy instantly. At first, he had thought Bai Zhe was just an ordinary boy. But after Xi Lua introduced Bai Zhe, he immediately paid his respects. The boy must be a talented calligrapher. If not, his grandfather would not have asked him to do calligraphy.
“You don’t have to do that. I’m younger than you,” said Bai Zhe.
“We respect people for their ability, not their seniority,” Xi Mo said.
“Then, do as you like.” Bai Zhe did not want to argue with him over this. He knew the model had less than 5 minutes to talk with Xi Lua.
After Xi Lua and Xi Mo spoke for a short while, Qi Fong said that it was time to go. Xi Mo and his manager said goodbye to Meng Dong, Xi Lua, and Bai Zhe before leaving the shop and getting into a car parked in front of it.
‘I was standing right here the whole time. Did Xi Mo not notice me?” Elder Fu could not help but feel slighted that he had been treated as nothing more than air.
“Bai Zhe…oh no, Master Bai, here is your cheque.” Meng Dong handed Bai Zhe a cheque with a figure on it that was equal to Xi Lua’s previous one.
Bai Zhe tried to object to Meng Dong calling him ‘master’, but his objection was not successful. He eventually let the man and Xi Lua call him Master Bai and accepted the cheque before excusing himself to continue writing his novel. For certain, he went to deposit the cheque at the bank on his way home. The female bank teller recognized him. She tried to have a conversation with Bai Zhe, but it seemed like he had no interest in her at all.
In Xi Mo and Qi Fong’s car
“It seems you’re more refreshed, right?” Qi Fong asked Xi Mo who was sitting in the backseat.
“Yes. It is strange, isn’t it? I think Master Bai’s calligraphy painting has some sort of power radiating from it. My tiredness completely disappeared even after just seeing the name of the painting. Didn’t you also notice that the grandfathers looked strangely energetic?” answered Xi Mo.
“Oh, I might have to ask to look at that picture next time,” said Qi Fong, thinking that Xi Mo was joking with him.
“I’m serious. I never thought Master Bai was this talented,” Xi Mo tried to affirm what he felt.
“It’s not like I don’t believe you. When I was in high school, I trained at a martial arts school. I wanted to protect myself from jerks at my school. My master taught me that we could use our minds to fight, like psychic powers. There are 3 of them: martial psychic power, deadly psychic power, and intention. From what you’ve said, I think maybe Master Bai is an expert using his intention. Anyway, I do not really believe in such things,” said Qi Fong.
“Intention? What is that?” asked Xi Mo.
“It is a psychic power which contains our focus and intent, and it can be sealed in objects or letters. For example, when you touch an antique and get goosebumps, that is called intention. You could say that it’s a strong psychic power that will not deteriorate and people in general can feel it,” answered Qi Fong.
“Wow, even though he is younger than me, he’s already achieved this level of success. If he gets famous, he will be much more successful than me in the blink of an eye,” said Xi Mo.
“Nothing is certain. Maybe you two will work together in the near future,” said Qi Fong.
The Bai family’s apartment
Bai Zhe came back to find his apartment empty. His parents were still at work, so he must use this time as profitably as he could.
He first prepared dinner for his mother and father before continuing to practice his qi. His practice was different from yesterday, as this time, he used qi characters to help him gather the qi power in the room and purify it so he could absorb it directly into his Dantian.
The next day
Bai Zhe went to school as usual. However, after he got home, he put down his bag and went to take a shower. He dressed in a shirt and covered it with a suit jacket and paired it with slacks and leather shoes.
It was clear that everything belonged to his father, and he had asked to borrow them all last night. At first, his dad was worried about the size, but the boy assured him that he had a way to fix that, so his father gave them up to him, thinking Bai Zhe would alter the clothes by himself.
Bai Zhe used qi characters to make the clothes and the shoes fit him. He even revitalized them, so they looked new before leaving his apartment. Then, he took a taxi to go to the calligraphy painting exhibition location which was stated on the card.
A hotel under the LSA company
In a large reception room, two calligraphy paintings, each covered with white cloth, had been placed in the middle of the stage because they were the highlight of this event.
Xi Lua's collected calligraphy paintings were placed around the hall. The food was being served on a dining table in the middle of the room.
“Good evening, Mr. Qian,” Xi Lua, who was the host, rushed to welcome Mr. Qian or Qian Mo. He was the president of the National Writers’ Association, which was the reason why Xi Lua treated him with a rather large amount of respect.
“Xi Lua, this event is decorated very well. It’s Meng Dong’s work, isn’t it?” Qian Mo said.
“I’m beyond flattered, sir,” said Meng Dong.
“Well, why are there two paintings on the stage? Is there not just one?” asked Qian Mo.
“I just got another one yesterday, sir. So, I wanted to show it to everyone,” answered Meng Dong.
“Oh, I do not regret coming here at all. Hmm, which master is the artist? Is it someone I know?” asked Qian Mo.
“He’s a new artist. He’ll arrive soon,” answered Xi Lua.
“He’s coming? Great. Will he show off his skills today?” Qian Mo asked.
“We probably have to ask him. He’s young, and this is his first official event. If he does anything inappropriate, I must apologize on his behalf,” said Xi Lua.
“All right. Well, I have to go. I need to have a chat with Xiao Yi about his latest novel,” said Qian Mo before he walked off.
As Qian Mo was leaving, Xi Lua saw a man sitting alone with his head in his hands, pouring liquor into a cup and sipping it little by little. He was a stark contrast to others at the table who were in groups conversing about the paintings. Of course, Xi Lua knew him very well. He was Chen Feng, a highly successful television series producer. He had produced many successful television series. He basically turned any series he touched into a surefire hit.
“Chen Feng? Why such a long face?”
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