Slag Shou Cultivating Manual - Chapter 31

To improve his calligraphy, He Lang, with his mother’s help, contacted a teacher he admired. Master Tao, who had been famous for many years and was highly respected, naturally had his own pride and reserve. When he first met He Lang, he thought He Lang was just a young master sent by a wealthy family to pass the time. So he asked He Lang to demonstrate his skills to see what he was capable of.

He Lang, of course, wrote with ease and fluency, but unfortunately, his ending strokes were a bit shaky, which showed minor flaws and caused Master Tao to display a hint of disappointment.

When he turned around, he saw Master Tao with his eyes slightly open, examining his work closely and nodding repeatedly. It seemed that even with minor mistakes, He Lang’s skill still shone through.

Without further ado, Master Tao made an exception and accepted him as his disciple. He Lang had finally found a great teacher and began collecting trophies from various calligraphy competitions across the country.

It wasn’t for fame or fortune, but He Lang was genuinely interested in seeing different calligraphy styles and characters from the competitions. He was curious about the people behind the characters and their different expressions.

Aside from studying calligraphy and painting, He Lang obtained a qualification card for auctions and discovered many antique exchange venues in this world. He began to frequent these places.

Over the past two years, he acquired numerous antiques. Unfortunately, due to his underage status, there were many restrictions and no income source, and antiques and calligraphy artworks were both extremely costly. However, he was born into a wealthy family, and his family was very lenient with him, never skimping on money.

But as time went on, the expenses exceeded hundreds of thousands. Whenever He Lang returned home, his cards would be maxed out due to spending, and Song Qinglian would immediately question him, “How much did you spend today? No amount of money seems enough.”

Despite her words, Song Qinglian still gave him money without hesitation, taking out a golden card from her bag and jokingly saying, “Your brother’s earnings are all for you to spend.”

Jiang Jingda would probably be very pleased.

He Lang felt a bit embarrassed. There were many collections at home that had become monotonous, taking up space and requiring expensive maintenance. He started thinking about how to sell them.

After winning the gold medal at the National Youth Calligraphy Competition, reporters invited him to give a statement and interviewed the calligraphy prodigy about his hobbies and what he usually did. They asked why he had such exceptional talent since he could write at the age of three.

He Lang naturally couldn’t answer everything. He only mentioned his love for ancient culture and his interest in appreciating antiques. At the end of the interview, he remembered that TV programs had a wide reach and made an advertisement for his collection.

Soon, many institutions and private individuals reached out to him. Considering safety and price, he ultimately chose to cooperate with a reputable antique investment company to provide collections for their auctions.

He had collected some seemingly ordinary antiques that, despite lacking intricate carvings or hype, had definite value. These items were bought at low prices and sold at astronomical amounts. Thus, He Lang accumulated a substantial sum of money.

Through this work, he had more opportunities to interact with ancient relics and found a sense of nostalgia.

His academic performance was always relaxed. Although science subjects were quite challenging for him, he excelled in the humanities and was a calligraphy art student, so his total score was not strictly judged. With family connections, entering a top art institution was just a matter of time.

He thought he wouldn’t make any close friends at school, but his deskmate, Meng Lun, had a good relationship with him. Meng Lun recognized He Lang on the first day and called him “Young Master.”

Meng Lun was somewhat of a carefree and spoiled child, known as a small tyrant at school. Despite his daily domineering attitude towards others, he treated He Lang well. Initially, it was because of He Lang’s status, but eventually, he genuinely found He Lang interesting and enjoyed spending time with him.

He felt that although He Lang was from a wealthy family, he didn’t understand luxury items like sports cars at all, and was like someone from ancient times, only interested in calligraphy and painting. During Chinese literature class, he paid attention to classical texts and spoke in a way that made him seem out of place.

His conditions were excellent, but his excellence made him intimidating. He also didn’t like to talk much, appearing aloof and preferring to be alone, which gave people the impression that he was difficult to get along with.

Meng Lun initially approached him because they had some connection but didn’t expect He Lang’s personality to be like this—cold but with infinite warmth. Despite seeming indifferent, his good looks and refined speech, combined with his gentle tone, made him appear very friendly.

This intrigued Meng Lun, who was tempted to tease him but didn’t want to overstep, especially since He Lang was the young master of the Jiang family.

Originally, Meng Lun thought such a person would be the most well-behaved and least troublesome student. However, unexpectedly, He Lang was both obedient and rebellious. He respected his teachers but ignored school rules, frequently skipping classes. However, because his family was involved in school investments, he continued to attend school steadily.

Such a unique and contradictory person seemed to attract Meng Lun, who started to follow him around. He wondered if it had to do with their family business cooperation, although everyone knew the Jiang family’s young master never discussed business matters.

Meng Lun shrugged but enjoyed being with Jiang Langmin.

Although their time together was pleasant, most of it was Meng Lun’s initiative to find trouble and chat. For example, now he was trying to coax He Lang into skipping class, “Are you going to the next class? How about going out to play games with me? After the games, we can go to a restaurant and then head to a bar—hey, Jiang Langmin, are you even listening to me?”

He Lang read through a few poems from his Chinese textbook, rubbed his ears, and then answered Meng Lun slowly, “I won’t go to the next class. I’m going shopping. I’ll come back for the afternoon class.”

Meng Lun originally planned to skip class for the entire day, but when he heard that He Lang would be coming in the afternoon, he couldn’t focus on his game and obediently came to school.

When class started in the afternoon, He Lang had just returned from the store. He hadn’t put the newly bought bracelet and hairpin away at home and brought them straight to the classroom.

As soon as Meng Lun saw him step into the classroom, he sprang up from his desk, which he had been lazily resting on, and eagerly pulled out a chair for him.

When he saw the box in He Lang’s hand, he opened it while expressing surprise, “So this is what you meant by buying something? How much did this cost? It doesn’t look very good… It’s all dark and worn-out, did you buy some junk?”

He Lang didn’t expect him to understand. After putting the box away and thinking about the price, he replied, “A few million.”

Meng Lun’s eyes widened, and he pointed at the contents of the box, asking, “Such a thing costs millions? My mind is blown; you were out for just half a day, and millions aren’t even money to you? You talk about it so casually! I must be a fake rich second-generation.”

He Lang placed the literature book in front of him, directly reminding him, “Pay attention in class.”

“What are you acting all serious for? You never listen to class!” Meng Lun retorted, but then saw his book and, changing his expression, leaned in close to him, “My basics are poor, I don’t understand the class. Could you teach me?”

“I don’t understand either,” He Lang shook his head.

“Hey…” Meng Lun weakly presented his perfect literature exam paper, with full marks even on the essay, right in front of He Lang’s eyes, “Can you stop lying?”

He Lang awkwardly pressed his lips together and explained a bit about poetry and appreciation.

It was unclear whether Meng Lun understood or not; he was very close, breathing heavily. He Lang looked at him with confusion, then awkwardly turned away, leaving a page of the test for him.

Meng Lun mentally slapped himself, rubbed his unexpectedly hot ears, and put on a bright smile, “To thank you, let me give you something?”

He then immediately took out a dark brown box from his bag, took out a watch from inside, and without waiting for a response, directly pulled He Lang’s wrist and put it on.

He Lang touched the watch, found it comfortable and a good way to tell time, so he didn’t refuse.

“Hey, this is a pair with mine, a brother’s watch. Look at this watch, it’s an imported brand, do you recognize it?” Meng Lun, seeing that he didn’t reject it, smiled even more happily, waving the watch around.

He Lang shook his head, “I don’t really understand these things.”

Meng Lun’s heart leaped with joy, and he enthusiastically wrapped his arm around He Lang’s, saying, “No worries, I’ll buy you more in the future, and you’ll get it.”

He Lang glanced sideways, thought for a while. Although his brother had already bought him a whole cabinet of such things, he still politely nodded at the kind gesture from his classmate.

As soon as the class bell rang, he received a call from Jiang Jingda, who said he had returned and was at the airport. He wanted to see him quickly and asked He Lang to pick him up.

When He Lang arrived at the destination, he was immediately embraced, and he knew who it was.

Jiang Jingda leaned in, rubbed his cheek as if kissing, and nuzzled in his ear for a while. He was about to hold He Lang’s hand but noticed the watch on his wrist and looked at him questioningly.

He Lang truthfully answered, “My classmate gave it to me as a thank you for helping him with his studies. He said it’s a brother’s(Bro) watch.”

Jiang Jingda frowned. Who exactly is the brother? Accepting gifts from others so readily—what does that say about their relationship?

These thoughts were fleeting, and he finally just reminded his brother not to tutor others anymore, advising them to seek help from teachers and not to overwork himself.

However, as soon as they were out of the airport, Jiang Jingda found himself unable to tolerate his brother wearing someone else’s belongings. He immediately stopped, dropped his suitcase heavily, grabbed He Lang’s slender wrist, undid the watch’s clasp without looking, and threw it into the airport trash can with a casual tone.

“Take it off. I’ll buy you a whole new set tomorrow.”

Author’s note: Revealing the capitalist stench of money not being money.

How does it feel like my world is randomly written? The style is quite humorous, isn’t it? Orz. Are you all looking forward to the little black room?