“First moisten the dry brush with water, then dip only the tip in ink.”
After grinding the ink and preparing the brush, Su Youcai spread out a rough, yellowish local paper about a foot square and instructed Su Lu:
“Yellow, coarse-textured paper is best. Avoid paper that’s too smooth or white—besides, we couldn’t afford that kind anyway.”
“Master Dongpo said that regular script gives rise to running script, and running script gives rise to cursive script. Regular script is like standing, running script like walking, and cursive script like running. One must progress step by step. Trying to walk before standing or run before walking will only lead to falls.”
“Of course, let’s be honest—we study primarily for the imperial examinations. For exam purposes alone, regular script is sufficient. Therefore, I will only teach you regular script. But once you build a solid foundation, learning running and cursive scripts on your own won’t be difficult if you develop an interest later.”
“Understood.” Su Lu nodded. He had no desire to become a calligrapher anyway—why learn anything unnecessary for exams?
“For regular script, all children nowadays learn Jiang Font.” Su Youcai then wrote several large, stable, upright characters with sharp corners on the paper.
Su Lu stared wide-eyed, surprised his father’s handwriting was so presentable. Yet Su Youcai showed no pride as he said:
“My writing imitates the Jiang-style Thousand Character Classic. Most scholars write this way. Although Jiang Style requires effort, every stroke must be precise. While writing, it keeps the mind focused and meticulous. Those who prefer unrestrained styles dislike it, claiming it lacks vigor and naturalness, unaware of its benefits for spiritual cultivation.”
After a pause, he couldn’t resist adding: “Actually, it’s because only Pavilion Style is allowed in examinations—Jiang Font is the most orthodox Pavilion Style…”
“That’s fine by me.” Su Lu readily accepted this uniformity. In his previous life, he’d even learned Hengshui Style for exams—no shame in that. His only concern was whether he could master it:
“But can I achieve decent results in just a hundred days?”
“A hundred days is enough.” Su Youcai nodded. “Master Dongpo also said, ‘Calligraphy requires no hundred-day miracle, only fear of a single day’s neglect.’ This means calligraphy isn’t difficult—three months suffice for basics. But the fear lies in interruption; you must practice diligently every day without break.”
After another pause, he instructed: “You should practice calligraphy for half an hour each morning and another half hour each afternoon. Write continuously without interruption.”
“Yes.” Su Lu was thrilled—three months to master the basics was perfect. The exam would come right after a hundred days. Their ancestor Su Dongpo was truly encouraging.
“So how should I begin practicing?” he asked eagerly.
“First learn how to hold the brush.” Su Youcai handed Su Lu a worn-out brush and taught him the five-character brush-holding technique: Ye Ya Gou Ge Di.
These five characters correspond to the functions of the five fingers when holding the brush. Simply put: the thumb and index finger press firmly on the brush shaft, the middle finger hooks inward, while the ring and little fingers push outward.
“The back of your hand should be rounded, your palm hollow, fingers firm, wrist suspended, and brush shaft straight.” Su Youcai corrected Su Lu’s grip hand by hand while explaining: “A hollow palm allows flexible movement, firm fingers ensure even strength, a suspended wrist prevents flesh from touching the paper, and a straight brush keeps every stroke centered—eliminating flaws on either side.”
“For regular script, hold the brush closer to the tip. When writing small characters, the force primarily comes from the fingers…” Su Youcai carefully taught him the finger techniques, then instructed: “What’s most crucial for you now is practicing brush control. So tomorrow morning, draw one hundred horizontal, vertical, and diagonal lines each, striving for consistency in thickness, length, and spacing. Then repeat the exercise in the afternoon.”
“Yes.” Su Lu quickly noted down the assignment.
~~
After the calligraphy lesson, Su Youcai proceeded to teach Su Lu from 《Shenglv F meng》.
This five-thousand-character text was divided into twenty rhyme categories, with each chapter composed of parallel couplets. Designed specifically for children’s initiation into tonal patterns and antithesis, it provided training in phonetics, vocabulary, and rhetoric—fundamental skills for writing—even if one didn’t study poetry composition.
“Heaven pairs with sun, rain pairs with wind. Midsummer pairs with deep winter. Auspicious clouds pair with timely snow, dripping dew pairs with hanging rainbow. Willows grace the pond where breezes drift faintly; Pear blossoms fill the courtyard where moonlight melts softly…”
The elegant verses brought mental refreshment and pure enjoyment when recited aloud. After listening to Su Lu complete one round, Su Youcai helped him decode several unfamiliar characters through fanqie notation, then remarked with a smile:
“This book has another advantage: you don’t need to memorize it in order, nor must you recite it word-perfect. During the oral exam, the academy staff will definitely give you the first line and have you supply the matching second line. For example, if I say ‘A straight tree casts no slanting shadow,’ you should respond ‘Clear sources yield unsullied streams.’ They won’t reverse the question or ask you to recite both lines.”
He added slyly: “So just familiarize yourself with the first halves—the key is memorizing the second halves without mistakes.”
“Understood.” Su Lu nodded cheerfully. His father wasn’t rigid at all.
Unbeknownst to him, Su Youcai had already streamlined the calligraphy instruction to the bare essentials, omitting any superfluous techniques. All to prevent his elimination due to poor penmanship.
Though holding little hope, the father was exhausting all means to prepare him for the challenge…
~~
With little material covered tonight, Su Youcai ended the class early, yawning as he headed to bed.
Su Lu first cleaned his brush and inkstone thoroughly, then returned to his desk to memorize 《Shenglv F meng». He soon discovered this was even easier to remember than the ‘Three Hundred Characters, Thousand Character Classic, and Hundred Family Surnames’—not only rhyming and parallel but also rich with imagery, making visual memorization effortlessly effective.
After about an hour of recitation and transcription, Su Lu blew out the lamp and embraced his ‘bamboo wife’, activating sleep-learning mode…
At dawn, rooster crows roused him punctually. Before opening his eyes, Su Lu first reviewed the previous night’s memorized content, reinforcing the sleep-enhanced memories.
Then he rose and returned to his desk, promptly checking the text to identify and correct gaps. After one complete recitation and a second round of gap-filling, he completed the full cycle of sleep-assisted memorization.
Just then, Aunt’s voice called everyone for breakfast, urging them to hurry and spread grain in the threshing yard—though Su Lu was exempted. From today onward, he needn’t do outdoor labor and could focus solely on studying.
After breakfast, he returned to his room and for the first time sat at his sunlit desk. Following his father’s instructions, he meticulously ground the ink. Adopting the five-finger brush grip, he practiced imaginary strokes in the air to loosen his wrist.
Only then did he dip the brush and begin slowly drawing vertical lines on paper. As his father explained, this was about taming the writing brush—transforming it from an unruly wild horse into a disciplined warhorse that would dance across the paper at his command.
Father said that once you can masterfully control the pressure, direction, and rhythm of the brush, writing beautiful calligraphy would become as easy as turning over your hand.
Su Lu felt greatly inspired by this. The idea that such simple practice could help him conquer the art of writing was simply wonderful!
But when he confidently began practicing, he found it was anything but simple…
First, in controlling the brush pressure: too much force would cause the tip to split, while too little would make the strokes appear weak. It was difficult to meet Father’s requirement of “centered tip in every stroke, with consistent line thickness.” He had to calm his mind, move the brush slowly, sacrificing speed for stability.
However, this made his hand exceptionally tired. Moreover, Father required him to keep his wrist off the table, supporting only with his elbow. As he wrote, his arm would start to ache and tremble, making it hard to maintain steadiness.
Father also said that if his hand shook, he could use the “resting wrist” technique as a transition—placing his wrist on the back of his left hand while moving the brush. But ultimately, he had to progress to directly suspending his wrist, otherwise the range of brush control would be limited, preventing him from writing bold, grand strokes.
Since that was the case, Su Lu decided not to use the “resting wrist” transition and aimed to develop a durable and stable wrist technique as soon as possible.
Gritting his teeth, he persevered, drawing one hundred horizontal lines, one hundred vertical lines, and one hundred diagonal lines each to the left and right. Only then did he set down the brush, flexing his sore and swollen forearm and wrist, before drawing another identical set to conclude his morning calligraphy practice.
Carrying his brush and inkstone to the courtyard to wash them, Su Lu looked up into the distance. The sky was as clear as if washed, the green mountains tinged with dark hues, and the Chishui River gurgled as it flowed through the valley. Erlangtan was truly a paradise on earth.
Little Jinbao, seeing him come out, hurriedly crawled over the threshold and toddled on her short legs to his side, looking up to ask, “Third Bro, did you learn to waste?”
“It’s Third Brother, did you learn it?” Su Lu corrected with a laugh. He knew the little one wanted him to play with her. She hadn’t pestered him since morning, which was quite an achievement for her.
He bent down to pinch Jinbao’s soft cheeks and said with a smile, “Shall I teach you some exercises?”
“Okay, okay!” Jinbao clapped her hands in delight.
“March in place,” he said, leading Jinbao in seriously performing the Eighth Set of Radio Calisthenics.
“First section, stretching exercises…”
Though tiny as a bean, Jinbao imitated him earnestly, raising her arms and kicking her legs, trying hard to keep up with his movements. Her flustered, clumsy appearance was utterly adorable.
An enticing aroma wafted from the kitchen—Aunt was steaming sorghum cakes. Freshly steamed, they were entirely different from when they cooled down.
From downstairs came the “cluck, cluck, cluck” sounds—Aunt (younger) was scattering grain for the chickens and adding hay to the cattle pen.
In the warm sunlight by the southern wall, Grandma was sewing cotton shoes for the children stitch by stitch. As for the Old Master, he had long since tucked a roll of betel leaves under his arm and gone out for a stroll…
Autumn cicadas chirped among the leaves, and cooking smoke lazily entwined with the clouds. At this moment, it was as beautiful as a painting, depicting the very image of happiness.
~~
“Eighth section, organizing exercises…”
After finishing the radio calisthenics, Su Lu returned to his study, and Little Jinbao obediently went off to play by herself.
For the rest of the time, Su Lu took out his calligraphy practice book again to review the “Hundred Family Surnames” and “Thousand Character Classic” he had memorized the day before.
According to the principle of the forgetting curve, forgetting begins immediately after learning, but the process is not uniform—it follows a pattern of “fast initially, then slow.” Without review, half of what is learned is forgotten within an hour, and three-quarters are forgotten after a day. However, the rate of forgetting gradually slows down afterward, eventually almost ceasing altogether.
It has also been discovered that spaced repetition is twice as efficient as massed practice. Reviewing at one-day intervals can double memory retention. This led to the development of the powerful “spaced repetition system.”
In simple terms, this system involves reviewing at seven critical intervals: 20 minutes, 1 hour, 9 hours, 1 day, 3 days, 7 days, and 16 days after initial learning. By doing so, knowledge becomes firmly ingrained and is almost never forgotten.
That is why Su Lu, even while working during the day yesterday, insisted on reciting texts—he did not want to miss these crucial review intervals.
And today marks the fourth review interval for “The Hundred Family Surnames” and “The Thousand Character Classic”…