'Tai Si Kong' the Calligraphy Painting of Tranquility Part II

In front of the Meeting Room One

Qing Qing waited in front of the meeting room for a short while before the door was opened. Xiao Qing bowed to the television series director, with whom she was very familiar, and the crew as well.

“Hey, Qing Qing. What are you doing here?” A man in a suit with purple-tinted black hair asked. He had a narrow face and his body was tall and distinguished. The man was not only a famous model that teenage girls were obsessed with at the moment, but he was also Qing Qing’s childhood friend.

“A senior in my department had me bring you this.” Qing Qing handed Xi Mo the envelope.

“Oh, has the documentation regarding the new commercial already arrived?” The sound of Qi Fong, who was Xi Mo’s manager, was sounded as he walked out of the meeting room.

“How’s the internship going?” asked Xi Mo.

“Some departments are really hard on me. But I will do it anyway,” answered Qing Qing.

“Hang in there for a bit. My internship was like that, too. They are trying to test our patience. Some people in this industry are even more demanding. A celebrity manager’s duties are to conceal your emotions, control your expression, keep your dissatisfaction inside, and successfully fulfill your duties. Not for themselves, but for the celebrities under their management. Got it?” Qi Fong lectured Qing Qing, as he saw her as his junior.

“I got it. All right. I have to get going.” She acknowledged his words. Qing Qing had dreamed of being a model. But a professional had told her that she could not be a model. After trying many times, she quit and decided to work as a celebrity manager. She thought that if she could not pursue her own dream, she would be someone who helped others successfully achieve their dream of entering the entertainment industry.

“Mm-hmm,” replied Qi Fong.

After Qing Qing had left their sight, Qi Fong turned to Xi Mo. When the man saw his manager’s gaze, he knew the other person had something to say about Qing Qing.

“What?” asked Xi Mo.

“Do you want me to help her get into this business? I’d say that with the way she walks, with a little bit more practice, she could be a model, even though her height is nearly not standard,” Qi Fong said.

“What if Mr. Meng Jia says that she could never be a model? Do you think she can still be a model?” Xi Mo asked. The question made Qi Fond pause.

“Well, there’s nothing I can do if that person says that,” answered Qi Fong. Meng Jia was the owner of the world's number-one fashion brand. It seemed like the man was a relative of Meng Dong, Qing Qing’s grandfather.

“If you want to help her, you better not let her know, because Qing Qing and I don’t like using our granddads’ connections,” Xi Mo said.

“I can see you both are really close. If I didn’t know you, I might think you secretly liked her. But you just didn’t realize your own feelings,” said Qi Fong.

“That will never happen. We know each other inside out. She looks calm and collected, right? Wait until you see her lose her temper. She transforms from a bunny into a skunk in an instant!” Xi Mo said with a smile, thinking about Qing Qing’s puffy cheeks when he teased her. He thought that this kind of feeling was the type that a brother had for a sister.

“…” Qi Fong had never thought that Xi Mo could critique his childhood friend this harshly. It contrasted with the polite and gentle personality that he usually saw.

“Let’s get some coffee. We can read the contract while we are drinking, too,” suggested Xi Mo.

“Mmm, that sounds great,” Qi Fong agreed.

Xi Lua Real Estate Company

There was a room for Xi Lua to relax in or use as his second home on the top floor of the building. The old man had just finished showering. He used his smartphone to upload Bai Zhe’s painting onto the calligraphy painting enthusiast club’s website before going to sleep. Xi Lua did not realize that it would cause insomnia to the members who saw his post.

[Th…this is…] Menn the Monk commented.

[Mr. Xi, how did you get this painting?] Old Imp commented.

[The signature reads ‘Bai Zhe.’ Anyone know this master?] Henpecked Dirty Old Man commented.

[Does anyone feel the power coming from these characters like me?] Cramp or Gout commented.

[The poem is beautiful. The diction the rhythm, and the rhyme are correct. This is clearly a priceless national treasure.] Monk Jumps Over the Prison Wall commented.

[Where is Xi Lua? Hurry, answer our questions.] Menn the Monk commented.

[I think he fell asleep. He likes to post before going to bed.] Chen Feng commented.

[I have emailed him about how I want to see the painting with my own eyes. He might see it tomorrow. He likes to read these emails when he wakes up.] Royal Concubine Jang commented.

After that, everyone asked for Xi Lua’s email. They wanted to see the painting as well. They could feel its power even though it was just the post. They could not imagine how powerful it could be if they saw it in reality.

In the end, they got Royal Concubine Jang to gather all the names of the people who wanted to see Bai Zhe’s painting and email this name list to Xi Lua.

Bai Zhe, who was writing his novel, was not even the tiniest bit aware of the mess created by the calligraphy painting that he had painted for Xi Lua. He stopped writing at 11 p.m. He then cleared everything up before taking a shower and going to sleep.

The Next Day

Bai Zhe woke up and found that it was still dawn. Also, his mother had not woken up yet. Thus, he did what he had said he would do yesterday—cook. He cooked his parents both breakfast and lunch.

When Bai Lian Hua came out of the bedroom, she found a note and the food that had been prepared and neatly wrapped in plastic.

‘Where is he going this early?’ she thought.

Bai Zhe’s Junior High School

At that time, Bai Zhe was already at the building’s rooftop, continuing to practice his qi.

He went to his classroom when the bell rang. Even though his classmates and his homeroom teacher were still uncomfortable with him, they looked rather more relaxed.

After School

Bai Zhe packed his stationery and his books into his schoolbag, ready to head to the Nightfall Antique Shop, in accordance with the appointment he had made with Xi Lua’s secretary. But he was stopped by the head girl.

“Bai Zhe, today is your turn to clean our classroom.” She stood with her hands on her waist, her eyes locked on him. The other kids watched with bated breath. They were afraid that Bai Zhe would curse the head girl.

“It’s already clean.” Bai Zhe had secretly used his qi to clean the entire room. No one had noticed because all of their attention was on the confrontation between the boy and the head girl.

“That  blackboard…” Before the head girl could finish her sentence, she saw that the board the teacher had written the lesson on was now clean.

“If there is nothing else, I will go now. Bye.” Bai Zhe stopped paying attention and left, leaving the head girl and the classmates confused.

The Nightfall Antique Shop

Bai Zhe opened the door and walked in. There were three people in the shop sitting at the counter: Elder Fu, Xi Lua, and a man he did not know, who appeared to be close to Xi Lua.

“Xiao Bai, you are quite punctual.” Xi Lua stood up and walked over to Bai Zhe.

“Oh, this is the artist of that calligraphy painting?” Meng Dong got up and followed Xi Lua.

“Bai Zhe, if you are this good at doing calligraphy, are you interested in making calligraphy paintings and sending them to me to sell?” said Uncle Fu.

“I don’t think so. There are many masters whose skills are better than mine in the calligraphy art industry. I am just a bottom-of-the-barrel nobody creating rudimentary works in their eyes,” answered Bai Zhe.

“Most of them are not that narrow-minded,” said Xi Lua.

“I still have to say no, sir,” Bai Zhe insisted.

“Oh, Xiao Bai. I am Meng Dong, Chairman Xi Lua’s friend. I saw your painting the other day. I have to say that it is the best calligraphy painting I have ever seen,” Meng Dong said.

“You praise me too much, Mr. Meng,” said the boy.

“Not at all. I am the one who had Xi Lua make this appointment with you. I want to ask you if you could make me a piece. And of course, I will pay you as much as Xi Lua did,” Meng Dong said.

“Mmm. Yes, sir,” Bai Zhe agreed. He wanted to ease his parents’ burdens. The more money he had, the more he could ease their burdens.

Uncle Fu immediately prepared the equipment. Bai Zhe quickly began wielding the brush with gestures like a master who had had decades of experience in the industry.

Uncle Fu’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened as he watched a kid that he had been known for years showing this hidden talent. As a person who traded in antiques and art pieces for decades, he could see the ability that the boy was showing.

Meng Dong was excited, too. Though Xi Lua had seen the boy’s creativity work before, he was still impressed.

“It’s done.” Bai Zhe put the brush down.

The three men gathered around the painting. This time, the poem talked about a Chinese monk whom everyone called the Living Bodhisattva of Da Xian.

“…” The three of them did not say anything. After they had read the poem that narrated the tale of Tai Si Kong, they could feel the happiness, the happiness that came from true tranquility.

Yes. Bai Zhe put the purpose [tranquility] into the painting. He thought that it would help relax people who were of an advanced age and worked hard both physically and mentally every time they saw or read the painting.

“The name of this  piece is ‘Tai Si Kong,’ isn’t it?” After he absorbed enough of the feelings, Meng Dong turned to ask Bai Zhe.

“Yes, sir. It tells the story of a monk who travels around the continent to seek solitude and help people and animals,” said Bai Zhe.

“Did you take it from somewhere? A book? A historical record? I have never heard of this story,” Xi Lua asked, being a bookworm. He did not think that he would miss a book or a rare historical record that contained such wonderful content.

“I made it up. For certain, it is in the novel that I have been writing. I just adapted it to be a ballad,” answered Bai Zhe.