After Saving My Possessive Best Friend, I Couldn't Escape (GL) - Chapter 3

“Ding.”

The phone notification sounded.

Ye Yu put down her brush, picked up her phone to answer the call, moving out of the light enveloping her.

“Hello, Mom and Dad.”

The voice on the other end belonged to Ye Yu’s parents. The phone volume wasn’t deliberately lowered, and the sound clearly filtered in through the open door gap.

“Nannan (a term of endearment), we saw your midterm exam paper. Your handwriting is good, but there’s still a lot of room for improvement.”

Ye Yu held the phone, her eyes lowered, looking very respectful. “Okay.”

“There’s a city-wide calligraphy exhibition next month. We’ve signed you up. Write a piece when you have time.”

At this, Ye Yu’s brow furrowed slightly.

“What content?”

“The Thirteen Lines of Ode to the Luo River Goddess.”

“But Mom, that’s small-scale regular script (Xiao Kai).”

“Exactly. Of course, you must use regular script for a competition like this. Those other unconventional styles shouldn’t be displayed here.”

Ye Yu lowered her eyes even further, and the hand resting on her knee couldn’t help but clench. Her entire body became tense and resistant.

The other side seemed oblivious to the atmosphere and continued their lecture. “Speaking of which, your father and I need to remind you again: you can’t practice the Slender Gold style all the time. Those showy scripts are okay in isolation, but not for a whole piece. It’s a deliberately distorted, incomplete style. Also, clerical script (Lishu) is ultimately inferior to regular script…”

“I understand, Mom,” Ye Yu interrupted the endless nagging from the other end, her face pale. “I will write the Ode to the Luo River Goddess.”

Having received a satisfactory reply, Ye Yu’s parents exchanged a few pleasantries and hung up.

Having overheard the conversation, Fang Zhile’s grip on the door handle involuntarily loosened a bit, opening the door further.

The sound of the door opening was jarring in the quiet room, so Fang Zhile had no choice but to walk out, carrying the basin.

Ye Yu was sitting at the desk, head lowered, showing no reaction.

Fang Zhile hesitated for a moment, sorted the items in the basin, and planned to put them back where Ye Yu had taken them from.

“Just leave them in the basin,” Ye Yu noticed the movements behind her and finally spoke.

When she spoke, her voice sounded a little hoarse.

Ye Yu had a strong temper internally but was very tolerant. That hoarseness most likely meant she was severely upset.

Seeing her like this, Fang Zhile felt distressed and couldn’t help but say, “Um, your parents still don’t support you practicing other scripts?”

“Still?” Ye Yu looked up at her.

Yes, still.

Before transmigrating, Ye Yu was a calligraphy art student who loved strange and wonderful scripts since childhood—not just Slender Gold and Clerical Script, but also various Bird-style and Bear-style scripts that Fang Zhile couldn’t even name.

Ye Yu wasn’t a lofty, detached artist, nor was she being the deliberately unconventional rebel her parents claimed. Her work was appreciated by both the sophisticated and the common person; Fang Zhile thought all of it was beautiful.

However, Ye Yu’s parents deemed this behavior a lack of focus on proper work.

To be more serious, they had previously scolded her for “destroying her own foundation.”

“Practicing these messy scripts will ruin the foundation you’ve built and corrupt your character. You’re trying to anger us to death.”

“If we see those kinds of scripts again, you’ll stop practicing calligraphy altogether.”

Fang Zhile had heard words like these many times.

After transmigrating, Ye Yu’s parents still disliked it, but the Fang Zhile in the book was just minor cannon fodder and shouldn’t know these hidden details.

Fang Zhile choked slightly, then calmly corrected herself. “I meant, you said that was regular script, and by your tone, you obviously don’t like it. But Auntie ‘still’ insists that regular script is the best.”

Ye Yu’s eyes flickered, and she turned her head away without replying, staring blankly at her desk.

In her parents’ eyes, only the orthodox regular script was worthy of presentation.

Fang Zhile scratched her hair, which hadn’t completely dried, and pointed at the characters on the desk. “Look at this ‘White’ (Bai). ‘A single dot in the heart of the river makes it white’ (Jiang xin yi dian ji wei bai). You write it like a painting, both beautiful and full of charm, incorporating classical elegance and subtle interests. It’s so beautiful! It doesn’t matter if you don’t understand the poetry. The character ‘Bai’ has all the dots, horizontal, vertical, and hooks. You could bring in an elementary school student, and they’d know what the character is.”

A single dot in the heart of the river makes it white.

Ye Yu was using a four-foot, four-open sheet of paper, and she had written five characters from top to bottom: “A big cup of wine for this floating life” (Fu sheng yi da bai).

The script was neither regular nor cursive. Starting with the water radical of Fu (floating), the brushwork flowed like a playful dragon, pulled along with the momentum of a projectile being released, or a startled snake entering the grass. It finally settled into a smoothness at the last character, Bai (white). From a distance, it looked like a stretch of river water, with just a single dot dropped in the center.

Ye Yu was still for a long time. Few people could interpret her handwriting. No, it should be few people were willing to interpret what she wrote.

It was as if she was secretly toying with trifles just to amuse herself, and no one came to take a look.

Even if someone did look, they would just shake their head and leave.

This was often accompanied by a few well-meaning words of comfort, treating her efforts as the insignificant antics of a child.

But Fang Zhile… she looked serious when she said it, her round eyes widened, staring intently at the characters, her eyes filled with nothing but appreciation.

Ye Yu’s eyes trembled, and her finger traced the surface of the Xuan paper. She said softly, “You like this piece?”

Fang Zhile nodded without any hesitation. “I love it.”

Ye Yu’s calligraphy was already showing its potential. In a few years, a single creative piece from Ye Yu could sell for at least a six-figure price.

“Then I’ll give it to you.”

Ye Yu suddenly offered, looking up at Fang Zhile. Without any preamble, she gave the piece away.

Fang Zhile’s brows lifted in delight, and she quickly thanked her. “Great!”

After saying it, she couldn’t help but ask again, “Are you really giving it to me?”

Turning back, Ye Yu was still seated, half in shadow and half bathed in sunlight. The dark and light cut a sharp line, and she sat within the arc of the light, her eyes holding a fleeting, shadow-like smile.

“I’m giving it to you.”

Fang Zhile was completely stunned.

My goodness! She lives up to her title as the Protagonist Shou, the most beautiful person in the whole book. Being looked at by her with that smile—it’s electrifying.

Fang Zhile quickly bent down to tidy up the script on the table. The school uniform wrinkled into lines as she moved.

The Chunyang High School uniform had three modesty buttons (fengji kou) that could be fastened all the way up to the Adam’s apple. None of them were currently buttoned, and the uniform hung loosely beside her collarbone, exposing a large expanse of fair skin as she bent over.

The fabric used by the Ye family’s tailor was very fine. When Fang Zhile straightened up, the folds collapsed, covering the view beneath.

Ye Yu’s smiling eyes gradually darkened, and the corners of her mouth, which held a subtle smile, flattened. Her gaze had, at some point, shifted, lightly and casually resting on the floor, where it remained fixed.

It was as if the patterns on the floor were suddenly worth studying.

Fang Zhile carefully put the calligraphy away and happily hummed a tune. The ends of her hair, not quite dry, dripped a few spots of water that soaked into the light blue back of the uniform and quickly disappeared.