Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Meng Zhangling wasn't just a director of Dongfeng Group but also the vice president of the Lincheng Calligraphy and Painting Association. Putting aside whether his work was any good, what he really loved was talking about his calligraphy and ink paintings with others. Anyone who came to see him would leave with one of his works as a gift.

Dongfeng Group's supermarkets now had tons of brands, largely thanks to their product selection and supply chain. Once a brand got in, it almost always made money, and their supermarket membership was pretty cheap. Another reason they blew up was they got behind national policies like "support domestic products" and "China-made quality." In recent years, Dongfeng Group's malls had earned outstanding reputations among customers, with domestic brands vying to join, and even some brands with foreign names had changed back to Chinese names, which was funny and kinda sad at the same time.

Jiang Yicen's big brother had always run the family business, which had a wide reach. Back then, pretty much all the department stores in Lincheng were foreign-owned, with none owned by Chinese. Ignoring his uncles and older relatives' objections, the eldest brother actively responded to the call to boycott foreign goods and went ahead and dropped a ton of money to open a mall selling only domestic products.

On opening day, Jiang Yicen was very worried that the mall would be deserted. He secretly called up his friends and asked them to come hang out at the mall that day to help hype it up.

But to everyone's shock, the mall opened and customers just poured in. In under twenty days, everything was sold out.

A hundred years ago, it was about boycotting foreign goods; now it's not about boycotting, but still the same "support domestic" slogan. It's definitely a long-running commercial war, still us versus them. However, now customers have more choices, and domestic brands have a much easier road to success now.

According to interview reports, the idea of focusing solely on domestic products was proposed by Meng Zhangling. Just for this point, Jiang Yicen felt that cooperating with him would sit well with his conscience.

Modern people might understand that tragic history, but only through book knowledge. Having lived through that era, Jiang Yicen knew firsthand how weak a country without military power or a say in international affairs could be—anyone could kick it around, let alone the common people.

Jiang Yicen naturally had a soft spot for people who supported domestic products. They were real patriots, helping build the country's industry.

But Meng Zhangling wasn't about to get swept away by a few compliments from Jiang Yicen.

He'd done promotions for his exhibition online. Anyone trying to cozy up to him could just Google it.

But after talking with Jiang Yicen, he realized this youngest son of the Jiang family had a whole different way of talking—deeply cultured, not like a science or engineering nerd who can rattle off chemical formulas or quantum physics, but with a literary depth that just came from inside him.

He even quoted one of Meng Zhangling's calligraphy pieces from memory, which was Meng's own copy of Zhao Mengfu's "Ode to the Luo River Goddess."

Other people might talk up his calligraphy to the moon just to suck up to him, and Meng Zhangling could spot that a mile away. But Jiang Yicen was different—he'd really looked at his brushwork and style.

Jiang Yicen said, "Zhao Mengfu's 'Ode to the Luo River Goddess' has this full, graceful brushwork—elegant and charming, with a firm strength. At first glance, it looks pretty similar. But your brushwork is bold and free, showing you've got big ambitions. You'd be better suited to cursive, running script, or big-character calligraphy. I remember, Uncle Meng, at your exhibition there was a cursive piece that was super powerful and bold in brushwork."

His well-reasoned "critique" startled Jiang Gongming, who was afraid of offending Meng Zhangling and quickly shot down what Jiang Yicen said.

"Brother Meng, this kid doesn't know a thing about calligraphy. He probably watched a couple videos online and started spouting nonsense. You've been practicing calligraphy for years; how could a little brat who can't even write Chinese characters right understand it? Don't listen to his crap, Brother Meng."

But Meng Zhangling was actually pleased. It not only hit the spot but also didn't feel cheesy. He got the itch to write calligraphy.

Meng Zhangling retorted, "No, no, no, brother, you don't get it. Your son actually knows his stuff." He turned to Jiang Yicen. "Kid, you're Yicen, right?"

Jiang Yicen couldn't even be bothered to look at Jiang Gongming. "Yes, Uncle Meng, just call me Yicen, please."

Meng Zhangling: "You said I'm suited for cursive or big-character calligraphy. Any poem or lyric you think would work for me?"

Jiang Yicen had recently read a lyric that was only published after the author died. It was so well-written that after reading it, his mind was blown and he was shaken for a long time.

He suggested, "I recently came across a lyric called 'Qinyuanchun • Snow'—why don't you give that a shot?"

In all these years, Meng Zhangling had never had a young person tell him what poem they'd read recently. Jiang Yicen was the first one to do that.

Something clicked, and his urge to write calligraphy surged. He asked Jiang Gongming, "Brother Jiang, I remember you also practice calligraphy. How about letting me use your calligraphy supplies today?"

Jiang Gongming was actually just a wannabe art lover. He only did calligraphy to show off to business contacts on his social media; he didn't know jack about it.

"Of course, no problem."

Meng Zhangling called Jiang Yicen over, excited. "I think you're right. When I wrote before, I felt something was off. Let's go try your suggestion now."

He was about to leave, but a few words from Jiang Yicen made him stay.

"Sure, but these are just my two cents. Don't read too much into them."

"No, no, I think your suggestion is awesome."

Jiang Yicen followed Meng Zhangling to Jiang Gongming's study, which was just for show. Jiang Yiting naturally had to follow too. Some older wealthy businessmen who had been chatting nearby also went along, taking a group of high-status middle-aged people with them.

The scene was left with only young people who had no idea what was happening.

Jiang Yifeng wanted to follow, but was stopped by his brother's glare.

Jiang Yifeng: "Hey, you're all leaving. What about me?"

Jiang Yiting: "Figure it out yourself."

Jiang Yifeng: "But the birthday cake is about to come out."

Jiang Yiting: "Then handle it yourself. At least this birthday is more grand than last year's."

With that, Jiang Yiting followed the crowd ahead. He now had a strange feeling that whenever Jiang Yicen appeared, he felt a sense of helplessness and crisis.

This was a place of fame and fortune, with ranks divided into three, six, nine classes, with both elders and juniors.

Many people watched the elders follow into the main house of the Jiang residence. They didn't know whether to follow, but they didn't have the courage to go in. Most of them were young people who usually hung out with Jiang Yifeng—rich second-generation kids, some of whom weren't even presentable.

A close friend of Jiang Yifeng asked him, "Fengzi, why aren't you following?"

Jiang Yifeng shot him a glare. Did he think he didn't want to?

He forced face and said, "Too many people. I'm not going. They're all old men. What's the point?"

His friend, unaware of the truth, stabbed him in the heart: "Your little brother went."

Jiang Yifeng: "..."

Just then, the butler in charge of bringing out the birthday cake approached Jiang Yifeng.

"Second Master, it's about time. Should we bring out the cake?"

Jiang Yifeng looked at the crowd of unimportant people. He had no mood at all, and his bad feelings were written all over his face.

He said impatiently, "My brother and father aren't here. Do you think we can bring it out?"

The butler didn't have the authority to make the decision. "Then wait a bit longer?"

Jiang Yifeng pulled a long face. "Wait a bit longer."

Now he hated Jiang Yicen. If he hadn't suddenly appeared at his birthday party, he wouldn't have lost the spotlight. His father had wanted him to get to know the Meng family, but it turned into a springboard for Jiang Yicen. That guy used some flashy tricks to lure people away. Ever since he hooked up with Nan Shuyi, he had become cunning.

Jiang Yicen had no idea about Jiang Yifeng's resentment toward him. He stood in the best position to watch Meng Zhangling write.

Jiang Gongming was fawning over Meng Zhangling. He gave Jiang Yiting a chance to shine: "Brother Meng, wait a moment. Yiting, you grind the ink."

Jiang Yiting did know how to grind ink.

The paper was already laid out on a high-end solid wood long table, with several brushes placed on it. Jiang Gongming's calligraphy might have been poor, but his tools were complete.

After everything was ready, Meng Zhangling picked a brush with a relatively thicker tip.

But when he was about to dip it into the ink that Jiang Yiting had ground, he shook his head. "This ink isn't ground well. I'll use bottled ink instead."

Jiang Yicen smiled and said, "Uncle Meng, don't rush. Such fine paper deserves a quality ink stick." He walked over to Jiang Yiting and said, "Brother, let me do it."

Jiang Yiting stepped back and watched Jiang Yicen roll up his sleeves and gently grind the ink stick on the inkstone. It was clearly different from the ink he had just ground. The same ink stick, the same method, yet the resulting ink was completely different.

Meng Zhangling dipped the brush in the ink and praised, "Young man, this ink is ground just right."

Jiang Yicen gestured and said, "Please."

Those who don't understand calligraphy wouldn't see the big difference between the two inks. Isn't it just grinding an ink stick the same way?

Meng Zhangling began to write, freely and fluently inscribing "Snow, to the Tune of Spring in a Pleasure Garden" on the rice paper. As he wrote the poem, he was filled with passionate emotions. The slight sense of unease he had felt before vanished completely. He wrote with joy, his brush moving with fluid, powerful strokes, completing it in one go!

"Excellent!"

"President Meng, such great calligraphy!"

"As expected of the vice chairman of our Lincheng Calligraphy Association! Your brushwork is as free and dynamic as a dragon and snake in motion, full of momentum!"

Some who were slightly knowledgeable about calligraphy couldn't help but applaud after watching him finish without a pause.

Jiang Yicen also applauded. At this moment, he wouldn't steal the spotlight, nor be ostentatious or claim credit. He had only offered a subtle suggestion. There was no need to highlight himself now, as it would only draw attention and cause resentment.

Jiang Gongming was no fool at this moment; he also knew how to build rapport with the other party.

"Brother Meng, why not leave this calligraphy to me? Looking at this poem every day will allow me to self-reflect daily. I must have this calligraphy framed."

Meng Zhangling was also very satisfied with the calligraphy he had just written. As Jiang Yicen had said, he was indeed more suited for cursive script. Strangely enough, it swept away his bad mood from today.

He said modestly, "Just put it somewhere casually. It's not worth framing; that's over the top."

Although he said that, his smile showed how pleased he was. This gradual way of praising was more natural and acceptable than a flood of praise.

While Meng Zhangling was receiving everyone's praise, Jiang Yicen quietly slipped out of the crowd and sent a message to Nan Shuyi.

At that time, Nan Shuyi was still in his office discussing the future menu of Cuizhu Restaurant with Liu Dan.

Liu Dan had a short fuse. Whenever Nan Shuyi mentioned something he didn't understand, he would get impatient. The two would occasionally get into heated arguments over a point.

He was blunt in both manner and words: "President Nan, why don't you let Yicen talk to me? How come you don't understand anything?"

Nan Shuyi was furious. He had signed the contract too early.

How could he not understand!

"He is not in charge of our company's food and beverage business."

Nan Shuyi threw down his pen. Fortunately, he had a good temper; at most, he would just snap back a few words. If he were younger, he would have kicked him.

Liu Dan suggested seriously, "Why don't you swap with him? Let him manage Cuizhu, and you go back to Nanyuan to work. Wouldn't that be the best of both worlds?"

Did managing Cuizhu now mean he didn't have to go back to Nanyuan to work?

Nan Shuyi was about to roll his eyes, but just as Jiang Yicen's name came up, he got a text from him. He could let Liu Dan's words go in one ear and out the other.

"Xiao Liuzi: Brother Shuyi, can you come pick me up at the Jiang house later?"

"Nan Shuyi: You got lost going back home?"

"Xiao Liuzi: I'm not lost!"

"Xiao Liuzi: You'll know when you get here."

Nan Shuyi immediately stood up: "It's already so late, Uncle Liu. I need to pick up Yicen. I'll have the assistant take you home later."

Liu Dan immediately calmed down at the mention of Jiang Yicen's name.

"Go ahead, go ahead. I heard you just got married. I'll make it up to you with a wedding gift."

"Thanks."

Actually, after getting to know Liu Dan, Nan Shuyi found that aside from his straightforward temper, he was actually a decent guy, but he had his own stubbornness about cooking. After all, he had been a chef his whole life and had never thought of opening his own restaurant.

On the drive to the Jiang house, Jiang Yicen also explained to Nan Shuyi how he happened to run into Jiang Yifeng's birthday party at home today.

Normally, Jiang Yifeng should have notified Jiang Yicen about his birthday party. As soon as Nan Shuyi heard this, he couldn't help stepping on the gas.

That bastard Jiang Yifeng must have bullied his gentle, easygoing Xiao Liuzi, otherwise why would Xiao Liuzi take the initiative to ask him to pick him up?

Nan Shuyi couldn't wait a moment longer!

How the hell was that idiot driving? The cars ahead had already moved, why was he still crawling?

Nan Shuyi honked furiously at the car in front. Today, he was going to be a total road rage driver!

Meanwhile, back at the Jiang house.

After Meng Zhangling wrote the third piece of calligraphy for the Jiang family's guests, he remembered that tonight was the birthday party of the Jiang family's second son. He had been hogging the spotlight.

Everyone shifted their focus, and Jiang Yiting had the butler bring out the cake just in time to liven things up again.

Jiang Yifeng had been sulking for a long time, and finally it was time to celebrate his birthday.

The cake was served, and the birthday candles were lit.

Jiang Yifeng was pursing his lips to blow out the candles when someone whispered.

"Why is Master Nan here?"

Then, everyone's gaze turned to Nan Shuyi, who was standing a few meters away. The only person near him was Jiang Yicen, who had not crowded forward.

Jiang Yifeng blew out the candles at that moment. The cheers and applause he expected were delayed by a few seconds, and even became sparse.

Everyone's attention was focused on Nan Shuyi.

Jiang Yifeng was already fuming because Meng Zhangling had been hogging the attention earlier.

Now he was even angrier, but he couldn't lose his temper on the spot.

Damn, were these two here on purpose to wreck his birthday?