In Li Qingyuan's study, two large bookcases were filled with eyes. The blank walls were hung with "Self-Narration Stickers" written in cursive script. It was not as wild as the original work, and the handwriting was round, but it was a bit more indifferent. The floor was neat and bright, and Li Qingyuan sat behind the table holding a thread-bound copy of "Chu Ci" to read.

"Oh, Teacher Liao, hello." Li Qingyuan saw his son and his class teacher standing at the door at the same time, stood up and said.

"Mr. Li, your study is really good. When I was very young, I longed to have such a study, filled with books I like, and I don't have to work every day, stay in the study all day, and read which one I want to read." Lao Liao said, and at the same time turned around and glared at Li Yuzhong. Li Yuzhong woke up and smiled reluctantly, "Dad, are you tired of reading books? I'll pour you a cup of tea."

"Haha, Teacher Liao has won the award. Please sit down." I don't know why my son suddenly became attentive, but he thought that the school might have to pay, so the teacher came to his house to lobby and encouraged his son to please his parents. - Even a literati, under the current social atmosphere, his thoughts are inevitably merciful.

Liao Xuebing saw a picture of "The Memorial to the Emperor" with ink on the table with not yet drying, and couldn't help but stretched his neck and said, "Mr. Li, did you write this?"

Many famous writers have written about "The Memorial of the Emperor", including Yue Fei in the Song Dynasty, Zhu Yunming in the Ming Dynasty, and countless later generations have copied it. Among them, Yue Wumu's calligraphy is dragon and phoenix dancing, elegant and unrestrained, and has extremely high artistic achievements. It is an insurmountable peak. If you don't have any foundation and want to copy it, it is tantamount to bring shame to yourself.

Li Qingyuan nodded slightly, and there was an undetectable meaning in his eyes, saying: "You just see the words written more correctly and you will praise them if you are more neat. There is nothing to say to you."

Liao Xuebing often regarded others as air, and directly walked around the table and pointed the letter in a straight line, saying: "The pen is full of strength and majestic momentum, especially the middle section of "Districting the Central Plains in the north, so as to eliminate the evil spirits, and restore the Han Dynasty". It is written openly and erectly, and both are like Yue Wumu, revealing the worries of the country, but it is also different. The characters are more clear and elegant. The skeleton is thinner, noble and refined, good, good, good!"

Li Qingyuan's eyes suddenly lit up as if he had met a soulmate, and he threw away "Chu Ci" and walked to him: "Teacher Liao, do you really think so?"

In the afternoon, Li Qingyuan read a book called "Talking about the Complete Biography of Yue" - he was not a traditional literati who often read some idle books - but he was fascinated by the characters in the book. His thoughts entered the turbulent era of swords and iron horses. The country and the country were in danger, and Yue Fei was unable to support him. Seeing that the building was about to collapse, he was deeply moved and wrote "The Memorial to the Departure" with passion and grief. His thoughts on reading books at that time were all reflected in the iron paintings and silver hooks. After the book was completed, he was quite content with his words and thought that this was the best written in recent years. When Liao Xuebing mentioned "family and national concerns", he couldn't help but feel that it was in line with his own wishes and stood by and admired them together.

Liao Xuebing studied Chinese courses for four years in vain. Since childhood, he has loved traditional culture very much. Under the guidance of his father, he studied calligraphy and painting and recited ancient Chinese. He has achieved remarkable achievements over the past ten years. Of course, he is still a certain distance from foreign literature such as "Hamlet", otherwise he would not have made a fool of himself that day.

"The four words 's tears' are written very well and freely," Liao Xuebing praised.

Li Qingyuan was full of joy. He was not afraid of good or bad works by a person, but worried that no one would appreciate them. He looked at Liao Xuebing a little bit and thought to himself: "It's okay to meet such a class teacher in Yuzhong."

"But..." Liao Xuebing changed the tone: "It's easy to write, but I always feel that I can't let go, and I feel a kind of self-righteous aloofness and reserve. Look at this structure, I paused between this character and this character. I don't know what the author hesitated about. The following few words were written plainly, and then gradually improved."

"Teacher Liao! You have a sharp look! You must practice calligraphy in your daily life, right?" Li Qingyuan shouted, completely unlike a steady middle-aged man in his forties. That kind of surprise is not comparable to a child who gets a candy. Lao Liao was right. When he wrote that word, his wife shouted outside, interrupting his emotions, and it took a long time to make it come true.

"Teacher Liao, please sit down." This time, I sincerely asked him to sit down, took a scroll on the bookshelf, and smiled and said, "Please review and evaluate my painting "Flowers and Birds by the Yuzi Lake"? This is the work of a friend in this city."

He listened to his implication and admired this friend very much. He opened it carefully. He first read the inscription, which was signed "Xie Yangguan, the master of Yanzhaizhai". Liao Xuebing had heard of Xie Yangguan's name and vice chairman of the city's calligraphy and painting association. He often appeared in various commercial activities and wrote a few strokes of calligraphy for the master, which won applause from the whole class.

"I have a bit old-fashioned, skillful, full coloring, vivid outlines, and quite good at it. However, there are a few mistakes. One is that the azalea is blooming in the painting, which should be autumn, but Mr. Xie is full of spring and the colors are too bright; the other is that you look at this yellow oriole, which should be red in reality, but the painting is gray."

Li Qingyuan raised his thumbs up and said, "High, it's really high." After Xie Yangguan painted this painting, he became more and more dissatisfied with it. He also sighed like this. Later, he put it on the shelf, and Li Qingyuan asked him to give the painting to himself.

Li Yuzhong came in with tea and saw his father and teacher gathering together intimately, so scared that he almost poured over the teacup. He was very self-respecting and was very indifferent to anyone. Only when he talked with Teacher Liao so enthusiastically, could they have any secrets?

Liao Xuebing thoughtfully: "Li Qingyuan can be called literary talent. He has a son but is not skilled. He is really incompetent to teach his children."

The two of them had a common language and spoke much more. They were not only limited to calligraphy and painting, but also talked about many poems. After all, Lao Liao had not read so many books, and gradually could not keep up. He brought out all the opinions of his father and uncle in the past and fooled him. Li Qingyuan felt like a confidant.

"Mr. Li, I actually want to discuss the matter of the noble master with you." Liao Xuebing used the handwritten copy of "The Poems of the Valley" handed over by Li Qingyuan as a fan to cool off.

Li Qingyuan became heroic when he deviated from normal, and patted Lao Liao on the shoulder vigorously and said, "Teacher Liao, don't be so polite, just call me Lao Li. What bad things did the dog do in school? Fighting, skipping class or having an early love? I will cut off his pocket money source and let him reflect on it."

Li Yuzhong hid at the door of the study and eavesdropped: "What, dare to cut off my source of income? The old man is so cruel. He will throw his books wet tomorrow."

Liao Xuebing said: "Li Yuzhong is a student with a strong ambition and a sense of collective honor. He has been selected into the football team of our class." There are only 20 boys in Class 2 in the second year. It is not a trivial matter to be selected into the football team, not to mention that there is nothing to boast about the football team in the class. Liao Xuebing said this matter higher than the sky. What does it matter to life and the future, and what has supreme glory? Being into the football team seems to be more difficult than being elected as an astronaut. Li Qingyuan is also a stubborn scholar. He really lacks knowledge of such trivial matters and has full trust in Liao Xuebing. He listens to his hype and nods continuously.

"Li Yuzhong is so outstanding, like a diamond falling into a pile of stones. There is nothing to hide its dazzling brilliance."

——Li Yuzhong, who was hiding behind the door, couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Liao Xuebing remained calm: "Mr. Li, oh, Lao Li, do you know why your father and son are indifferent? It is a problem of lack of communication. I heard that you father and son often don't say a word for half a month."

"Hmph, that little brat eats and lives with me, and he mingles with people all day long, just like the Meng Jun in your class who often comes, and he talks vulgar and impolitely. He doesn't ask when he sees us." Li Qingyuan snorted heavily.

"Young people are always a little thin. I promise that from today on your son will improve greatly than before. If he is still the same, I am willing to grind ink for you every day."

"Are you telling the truth? Teacher Liao?"

Liao Xuebing walked to the door with a smile and pulled it suddenly, and fell in from Li Yu who was eavesdropping outside the door, "Haha, Old Li, it seems that your son still cares about the conversation between us."

"Hmph, what kind of decent thing!"

The two chatted for a while, and the words were speculative, and time was fast. Liao Xuebing took out his cell phone and looked at it, saying, "It's not too late, I have to go home first."

Li Yuzhong and his son sent him out. Zhang Liming was very surprised. In the past, only Xie Yangguan and contemporary literary critic Guo Yongsheng would send him out in person. What kind of virtue can a young teacher be...

Liao Xuebing drove to see a very familiar figure on the road. Hey, isn’t this Xiaobai’s beautiful sister Zhong Dirui? I came to visit home last time and turned out to be living on Binhai Road. "Hi, Miss Zhong!" Lao Liao was not interested in picking up a beautiful woman, but when he saw the student’s guardian, he couldn’t say hello, so he turned off the fire next to her.

"Haha, it's Teacher Liao. Why haven't I been at home tutoring Xiaobai for so long?" Zhong Dirui still remembers the only teacher who has been to visit home for more than a year.

When Lao Liao saw her holding two bags, he said, "Miss Zhong, don't you have a car at home? Why are you still walking? I'll take you away?" He secretly planned to wait for her to get into the rear of the car, but suddenly braked when he drove to a certain distance. He used the inertia to make Zhong Dirui hit his back, and he could take the opportunity to feel her plump breasts.

Zhong Dirui politely declined: "Teacher Liao is so polite. I'm just a few steps away from home. I'll just walk over by myself, so there's no need to bother Teacher Liao."

"Tomorrow's Mid-Autumn Festival, I wonder where Miss Zhong will spend time?" Lao Liao wanted to use the old-fashioned excuse to meet girls.

"Haha, I have to decorate the living room tomorrow night. Xiaobai invited classmates to the house to have a party."

Ah? Who did this guy Zhong Bai invite to his house for entertainment? Could it be a woman? So leisurely and casual, it almost overshadows my old Liao. Next time I have to find an excuse to punish him to copy 10,000 new words, which makes him unable to feel proud. He fired up again and said with a smile: "It's a bit late, I should go back. See you next time, Miss Zhong."
Chapter completed!