Brother Dao Took the Entertainment Industry by Storm, Fans Beg Me Not to Kill Anymore

Chapter 646: A Perfect Replica - Faking the Authentic Handwriting!

Based on the previous historical dramas Director Chou had filmed, actors typically had to attend long intensive training classes before joining the crew, learning all sorts of ancient knowledge and etiquette. In fact, there had been a case before where an actor repeatedly missed classes and was eventually kicked out of the production by Director Chou himself.

And Xiao He had indeed played many ancient-style roles before, though most of them leaned more toward the jianghu vibe.

Shen Jue was an inn waiter, a jianghu wanderer, so his posture wasnʼt given much importance. The Senior Brother and Demon God characters that came later had some requirements for bearing, but they werenʼt rigid, nor were they the focus of the plot. Song Chenye was even more of a chivalrous swordsman type, leaning toward casual and unrestrained.

These characters were all highly dynamic, with plenty of fight scenes, and their overall impression didnʼt rely on formal posture. As long as Xiao He wasnʼt slouching or hunching over, his physique and appearance alone could fully meet the filming requirements. But ”Imperial Enterprise” was different - it had more dialogue-heavy scenes, and the background was set in the Qing Dynasty, an era with the height of ancient ceremonial etiquette. The demands on the characters were bound to be extremely high.

Xiao He fell into deep thought, already starting to mentally calculate some of his own issues.

He really wasnʼt professionally trained, and hadnʼt specifically studied this area. Heʼd only picked up some basics during acting classes. The main reason was still because his family had raised him well - Xiao He already had decent posture to begin with. Playing a chivalrous hero didnʼt have such a high threshold; when needed, standing tall and straight was enough to be impressive.

But when it came to the finer details...

Xiao He was still pondering when Mother Xiao stood up and patted his shoulder: ”Good luck to you then. The stew in my kitchen is almost ready.”

With that, she headed back to the kitchen to busy herself with dinner.

...
But when Mother Xiao came out of the kitchen again, ready to call everyone for dinner, she found that Xiao He had already packed his luggage and pushed his suitcase to the door.

”Huh? Whatʼs going on?”

Mother Xiao was surprised.

”Teacher Bai, youʼre really my life mentor. I think what you said makes a lot of sense.” Xiao He squeezed past Mother Xiao into the kitchen and started scooping rice for himself. ”So Iʼve decided to head back to Shanghai tonight. I need to give myself a few days of intensive training.”

”So soon?”

Mother Xiao frowned, a bit reluctant. Father Xiao also walked out of the study, glanced at Xiao He, and helplessly shook his head: ”Forget it. This kid just causes trouble when heʼs home anyway. Leaving early will give us some peace and quiet.”

”Ah well.”

Mother Xiao didnʼt say anything more.

Xiao He hurriedly finished his meal at home, said his goodbyes to Father and Mother Xiao one by one, and immediately flew back to Shanghai with his luggage.

The next day, he started his intensive training course.

...

”Straighten your back, relax your shoulders, lower your wrist, donʼt be too stiff -”

Wen Yuan held one hand behind her back and tapped the desk with the other, intently watching Xiao Heʼs movements.

Xiao Heʼs body stiffened. He took a deep breath, tried to relax his movements as much as possible, and then steadied one hand on his sleeve while the other, holding the brush, began to write on the rice paper.

[Stabilizing the World]

The brush strokes under his hand were sharp and clean, with clear beginnings and endings, and the edge was just right. Although they lacked a bit of the scholarly elegance of a refined gentleman, they vaguely hinted at a certain casual, domineering quality.

It was a contained sharpness, but also an unrestrained arrogance.

Paradoxical for no reason, yet perfectly natural.

Just like that legendary emperor.

Xiao He put down the brush, carefully examined his work for a moment, and let out a long sigh: ”It looks somewhat similar, I guess.”

Trying to imitate that personʼs handwriting was harder than climbing to the heavens.

Wen Yuan took a look at Xiao Heʼs results. Surprise flickered in her eyes as her gaze swept back and forth, comparing it with the calligraphy copybook beside her. After a moment of silence, she said, a bit hoarsely, ”I feel like...”

She hesitated, not knowing how to evaluate this studentʼs handwriting.

If she hadnʼt witnessed Xiao He dipping the brush in ink and writing these characters herself, she would have almost believed they were cut straight from the authentic copybook.

How could it be so similar? If there was any difference, it was that his characters were brand new, with the ink still not completely dry.

Wen Yuan could hardly believe it.

”Have you studied calligraphy before?”

She asked Xiao He.

No, that wasnʼt right. Given this situation, Xiao He must have been practicing copying this emperorʼs handwriting for many years, otherwise this wouldnʼt have happened.

”Uh -”

Xiao He thought for a moment and gave a reasonable explanation: ”My mother is a Chinese teacher, and she really values childrenʼs calligraphy. So I was forced to practice hard-tipped calligraphy for several years when I was young.”

Fortunately, Mother Xiaoʼs insistence back then had kept Xiao Heʼs handwriting from being as messy and illegible as the stereotypical science studentʼs, and it also allowed Xiao He to handle writing demonstrations at public events with ease.

But Mother Xiao probably never imagined back then that her son would one day end up playing an emperor!

Who would have thought he was going to be an emperor now!

The calligraphy learned under exam-oriented education really couldnʼt handle this messy, authentic script.

If it werenʼt for the belief that details determine success or failure, and that knowing one more skill adds another point, Xiao He wouldnʼt have bothered to ”make things difficult” for himself like this.

But clearly, he wasnʼt making things difficult for himself now - he was making things difficult for his calligraphy teacher, Wen Yuan.

Wen Yuan stared at the calligraphy for a long time again, and finally couldnʼt help but pull out her phone to take a photo. Then, in a very ”pained” tone, she said to Xiao He, ”I think with your ability, I really donʼt need to teach you anything anymore.”

Xiao He was taken aback, then asked weakly, ”Is it really that terrifying? Doesnʼt your calligraphy value things like literary spirit and character? For example, can you tell from the handwriting that it has no soul, no resonance?”

He had just casually copied it! It couldnʼt be that exaggerated, could it?

Wen Yuan stared blankly at Xiao He for a moment, pushed up her glasses that were about to fall off her face, and let out a couple of hollow laughs: ”Itʼs exactly the same. What kind of soul can I see? If you used this calligraphy to forge counterfeits, I definitely wouldnʼt be able to tell the difference.”

Did she really think her eyes were a scanner, or some metaphysical compass? Was she supposed to look at some handwriting and turn into a psychic?

Xiao He felt a creepy unease from her laughter.

It was only then that he suddenly remembered - the [Magic Hands] skill involved only a pair of nimble hands, along with precision criminal activities...

For example, cheating at gambling, for example, picking locks, and for example -

Xiao He looked at the calligraphy in front of him with a complicated expression.

For example, imitating handwriting until itʼs impossible to tell the real from the fake.

Xiao He understood.

But here was the problem - he could only copy and imitate with this skill! He couldnʼt write anything else!

Just like with lock-picking and magic tricks before, the Magic Hands had indeed helped him learn quickly, but if he didnʼt learn it, he couldnʼt just master it out of thin air!

Embarrassed, Xiao He put down the brush and sincerely suggested to Wen Yuan, ”I think we can set this aside for now and pretend it doesnʼt exist. How about you recommend a few copybooks to me first, so I can learn the basics of brush calligraphy?”

Wen Yuan stared at the young man in front of her and continued to laugh hollowly: ”Alright, fine.”

No getting past it, absolutely no getting past it!

How in the world was Xiao He managing to stay so calm!

But as a qualified teacher, Wen Yuan reluctantly swallowed those complicated feelings and changed the subject: ”Then letʼs keep working on your posture! Your writing posture really is wrong, and it needs some serious adjustment.”

Hearing this, Xiao Heʼs expression immediately fell.

Sure enough, on the path of learning, there are always more difficulties than solutions.