Chapter 165 145: The Mountain Lake Recluse

Mo Han showed a few recently taken photos to Xu Chunliang, who glanced through them and complained: "What kind of skill is this? My good looks have been captured by you to look like a big monkey."Mo Han couldn't help but laugh: "It's all about the angle, shooting from above. Besides, I don't usually take photos of people."

Xu Chunliang waved his hand, found a spot on his own, and asked Mo Han to retake a couple of photos. Mo Han was speechless, thinking he might exchange a few words with her.

After helping him take a few shots, Yan Huaiyi and Jin Yonghao climbed up, and Xu Chunliang called them over for a group photo.

Mo Han was utterly speechless; Xu Chunliang really didn't see her as an outsider, treating her like a professional photographer.

Yan Huaiyi was also a photography enthusiast, and her eyes widened when she saw Mo Han's equipment. She was using a customized Leica M10R, with the camera and lens costing tens of thousands.

Xu Chunliang didn't introduce anyone, and Yan Huaiyi and Jin Yonghao thought Xu Chunliang was socially adept, striking up conversations with anyone they met. Little did they know, these two already knew each other.

Yan Huaiyi and Jin Yonghao didn't intend to disturb them. After taking the photos, they went aside to enjoy the scenery. Mo Han showed the photos to Xu Chunliang, who said that they were decent.

"If you're not satisfied, I can delete them right now."

"No need, they're better than what I'd take. By the way, what are you doing here alone? There are snakes on the mountain."

Mo Han replied, "Mind your own business!"

"With that attitude, you'll have no friends."

"I don't need any." Mo Han looked up at the sky; clouds were gathering.

Yan Huaiyi's voice came from afar: "Xiaoxu, it looks like it's going to rain. Let's hurry down the mountain."

Jin Yonghao suggested they descend from the east slope, which was gentler and the most commonly used route. Mo Han had just climbed up from that path.

The four began their descent, but before they got halfway, they were caught in a sudden downpour.

Mo Han, equipped professionally, had waterproof outerwear and a raincoat in her backpack.

Compared to her, Xu Chunliang and the others were in a sorry state, caught unprepared and drenched like wet dogs. Mo Han gave them a waterproof bag to put their phones in.

The rain kept getting heavier, making it hard to see the path. Jin Yonghao pointed to a stone house ahead and suggested they take shelter there, as continuing in the rain was dangerous.

They arrived at the yard, and Jin Yonghao called out: "Is anyone there?"

An elderly man came out with an oilcloth umbrella, his face initially gloomy, but he beamed when he saw Xu Chunliang: "Director Xu, it's you!" The elder was none other than He Tiantian's father, He Shouren, who had been living on the mountain for years.

A few days ago, he accompanied his daughter and granddaughter for a few days on the boat, worried about another bout of illness for his granddaughter. Seeing she was fine, he returned, having gotten used to living alone.

He Shouren quickly invited them into the stone house.

The two stone houses were small, suitable for one, but now cramped with four adults.

He Shouren found a brazier, burned some charcoal, and let them sit close to dry their clothes.

Mo Han, well-equipped, wasn't wet at all.

Yan Huaiyi sneezed several times, huddling by the brazier for warmth, feeling unbearably cold. Jin Yonghao didn't fare much better.

Xu Chunliang, being robust, was unaffected, just drying his hair with a towel.

He Shouren went to the kitchen next door to make ginger tea, helping them sweat out the chill.

Mo Han checked the time on her wrist. It was noon, unsure when the rain would stop, so she got up to help.

Yan Huaiyi curiously asked: "Xiaoxu, do you know them?"

Xu Chunliang replied: "Who are you talking about?"

Yan Huaiyi said: "The girl taking photos."

Xu Chunliang laughed: "We just met."

Jin Yonghao glanced outside; the rain was heavier, sighing: "It was so sunny, and now it's raining?"

He Shouren walked in with two bowls of ginger tea, and they quickly took them. Mo Han also handed a bowl to Xu Chunliang, who declined it.

He Shouren said: "This rain will last at least two hours. Let's wait it out. I'll make some food, and you all make do."

Yan Huaiyi's stomach rumbled: "Sorry to trouble you, Teacher He."

Mo Han volunteered to help He Shouren.

Jin Yonghao called the hospital, letting them know he'd be late.

Soon, the aroma of food wafted over from next door, as He Shouren stewed an old rooster and made some local pancakes. He also prepared 'Di San Xian,' a dish of eggplant, potatoes, and green beans with palm-sized pancakes.

He placed the iron pot directly on the table and said to them, "There's nothing particularly tasty up here on the mountain. Just make do, and please bear with the lack of proper hospitality."

Yan Huaiyi said, "This is already quite a feast. Thank you so much, Teacher He. You're our savior. If you hadn't taken us in, we might have frozen to death on the mountain."

Xu Chunliang laughed and said, "It's not that exaggerated."

He Shouren found a bottle of Yanghe Daqu: "Would anyone like some alcohol?" He usually didn't drink, and he wasn't sure when a relative left this bottle with him.

Xu Chunliang said, "No thanks, we'll just eat our fill and leave once the rain passes."

He Shouren encouraged them to eat first and said he could make more bread if needed.

Perhaps because they were both cold and hungry, the group ate with great enjoyment. Yan Huaiyi once again felt that youthful sensation, having not tasted such authentic pot dishes in many years.

He Shouren explained that the main reason for the flavor was the harmless vegetarian ingredients and free-range mountain chickens. He also used firewood and mountain spring water, which city cooking couldn't replicate.

The group shared their thoughts. Although life was getting better, the food they were eating was becoming less healthy.

Mo Han asked, "Teacher He, you must be very familiar with the situation on Shiliang Mountain?"

He Shouren nodded. Because of its altitude, Shiliang Mountain didn't have particularly abundant products. The biggest specialties were mushrooms and mountain spring water. In the past, no one thought much of the spring water, but after Xianhong Farm built a water plant, everyone realized it could be sold. Now even the locals come to the mountain to fetch water.

He Shouren originally chose to live on the mountain for peace and quiet, but as more people came, that peace was disrupted.

Xu Chunliang thought to himself that with the development of Weishan Island, it would be even harder for him to find tranquility.

He got up and went to the wooden desk on the side, where the four treasures of the study were laid out. He Shouren usually wrote here.

On the wooden desk was a half-written copy of the "Diamond Sutra" by He Shouren. Because of their visit, it hadn't been finished. The entire piece was written in the Slender Gold Style, and Xu Chunliang praised: "Teacher He, your calligraphy skills are profound!"

He Shouren humbly said, "It's just an imitation."

Yan Huaiyi and Jin Yonghao also came over. Intellectuals are often interested in writing and painting, especially Yan Huaiyi. His favorite pastimes were playing with literature and ink, and he was also a member of the city's Calligraphy Association.

Yan Huaiyi also joined in the appraisal. Although his knowledge was limited, he could tell that He Shouren's writing was good, even if he couldn't articulate exactly why.

Jin Yonghao was even more of an amateur. In such situations, subordinates habitually flattered their superiors. He introduced that Yan Huaiyi was a calligraphy expert and a member of the Dongzhou City Calligraphy Association.

With this compliment, Yan Huaiyi naturally felt proud and asked He Shouren if he had joined the Calligraphy Association. If not, he could introduce him.

He Shouren modestly said that his skills were not enough to join the calligraphy association.

Yan Huaiyi laughed, "Teacher He, you're too modest. I think your writing is quite good. You can definitely join the city calligraphy association; I can help introduce you."

He Shouren repeatedly shook his head. Deep down, he actually looked down on organizations like the calligraphy association. He wrote purely out of interest and never thought of proving anything.

Jin Yonghao said, "Dean Yan, I see there's ink and paper here. Why not show us something as well, so we can broaden our horizons?"

His intention was good, wanting to flatter Yan Huaiyi, but it was a bit too much. They were guests, and the host hadn't even spoken. His suggestion was somewhat inappropriate.

Yan Huaiyi was actually eager to try too, but he fake modestly said, "There's no need."

He Shouren said, "Dean Yan, don't be shy. It would be good for us all to exchange and learn from each other."

Feigning reluctance, Yan Huaiyi still picked up the brush, and Jin Yonghao hurriedly helped him grind the ink.

Yan Huaiyi said, "I usually write cursive script. I'll write a piece of cursive script as a gift to Mr. He."

Xu Chunliang watched, secretly amused. This was what you called showing off in front of an expert. He Shouren's Slender Gold Style, although not beyond imitation, bore the manner of a master in cursive script.

Yan Huaiyi not only wanted to write cursive but also gift it to him, which truly showed a lack of self-awareness.

Jin Yonghao was even more comical. It seemed he was used to flattering excessively. Even though Yan Huaiyi was leaving, he continued to flatter. He should get the situation straight before flattering!

Yan Huaiyi lifted the brush, closed his eyes, and gathered his thoughts. Regardless of how the writing would turn out, he certainly had the posture down.

He wrote a piece called "Inscription on a Humble House". The characteristic of cursive script is that nearly every character is connected, written in a single stroke.

Xu Chunliang glanced over and saw that Yan Huaiyi had indeed put effort into cursive but wrote only passably. More precisely, it had the form but lacked the spirit.

After finishing, Jin Yonghao praised, "What good writing! Dean Yan, this piece already carries the essence of Wang Xizhi."

Xu Chunliang sighed inwardly. Even flattery needs to be measured. Overdoing it makes it ridiculous. Wang Xizhi was indeed a master of a generation, but he was not known as the sage of cursive.

Yan Huaiyi's piece was an obvious imitation of Zhang Zhi, whose most distinctive feature in cursive writing was eliminating the "wild goose tails," enhancing the continuity, and reducing strokes.

Yan Huaiyi's writing was somewhat forced, with every character connected from start to finish, to the extent that the words were so simplified they were unrecognizable.

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