Killing Demons: Upgrading from Calligraphy

Chapter 1 The Scholar
The New Year is approaching, and a heavy snowstorm is coming.

Large snowflakes were falling in the dark cloudy sky, like the Milky Way pouring down from the sky.

Ice is hanging on the eaves, and the branches are covered with silver.

The creek outside the county town looks even clearer and more transparent against the backdrop of white snow.

The people in the city walked out of their homes wearing thick and warm clothes and walked through the falling snowflakes.

There was a crunching sound when stepping on the snow, leaving deep and shallow footprints in the vast whiteness.

Standing under the eaves.

Qi Xiu gathered his blue and gray cotton robes, folded his sleeves with both hands, raised his head and looked quietly at the heavy goose feather snow falling in front of him.

It has been two years since I came to this world in the blink of an eye.

Listening to the laughter and firecrackers outside the door and the excited and cheerful footsteps of the children.

Qi Xiu's eyes moved slightly.

He is not from this world.

Two years ago, due to a car accident, he resurrected a corpse, took possession of someone else's skin, and came back to life in this world.

"It's New Year's Eve again."

He opened his mouth to breathe out frost-white mist, and Qi Xiu sighed.

In the blink of an eye, it has been two years since I came to this world.

I don’t know how my parents in another world are doing.

Although he is not an only son.

But when he passed away, his younger brother was only six years old, and his father and mother, who had white hair, gave birth to a black-haired one. I don't know how long they were grieving.

tuk tuk-

Just as Qi Xiu was looking at the heavy snow in the sky, he was thinking about people.

There was a knock on the wooden door outside the courtyard.

"Is Mr. Qi at home?" A clear call like a silver bell came from outside the door.

Raising his hands to shield himself from the wind and snow, Qi Xiu came to the door and opened the courtyard door.

Standing outside the door was a little girl of eight or nine years old, wearing a red cotton-padded jacket and holding a wooden basket in her hand.

"Xuan'er, what's the matter?"

"Mom asked me to give this to Mr. Qi." Qiao Xuan'er said childishly as she struggled to lift the wooden basket she was carrying.

"Mom also wants to ask you to write a Spring Festival couplet for our family."

Taking the wooden basket held by Qiao Xuan'er, Qi Xiu opened the red cloth covering it. Inside was a whole basket of steamed buns and a dozen eggs.

The original owner of Qi Xiu's body was a poor scholar.

He was an abandoned baby since he was a child and was adopted by an old scholar.

When he was 16 years old, his adoptive father passed away. Apart from a few taels of silver, he only had this courtyard that could barely protect him from the wind and rain.

Fortunately, the original person was a weak scholar.

However, under the guidance of the old scholar since childhood, he wrote good calligraphy.

With this hand of calligraphy, I wrote letters for my neighbors on weekdays, wrote a few couplets during the New Year and festivals, and wrote a few eulogies for the elderly while he was sleeping.

Barely able to make ends meet.

"I know, go back and tell your mother, I'll go back with some pen and ink."

Gently pinching the little girl's cheek, Qi Xiu smiled and watched the quirky little girl skip away.

Go back home and put the steamed buns and eggs in the cupboard and lock them.

Qi Xiu turned back to the bedroom and put the ink brush and inkstone one by one into the cloth bag he had made.

"We're running out of ink again. I'm afraid there's a lot of demand for the Spring Festival couplets these days. I'll have to buy another pot when I have time."

After shaking the remaining ink pot, Qi Xiu frowned slightly.

In the first half of the month, several murders occurred on the commercial roads outside Baohe County, and the number of caravans coming and going suddenly decreased.

Even the prices in the city have risen a lot.

The original price of three cents per pot of ink paste has increased to five cents per pot.

The nearly doubled price increase put great pressure on Qi Xiu, who was short of savings due to some reasons.

"I hope things will get better after the New Year."

After packing their things, they tied the faded cotton scarf around their necks, tightened their sleeves and walked out of the house in the wind and snow.

……

"Uncle Qiao, it's written. Can you come and take a look?"

Putting down the brush, Qi Xiu unrolled his sleeves and gently stretched the red paper flat on the table to make it as flat as possible.

"That's good, that's really good. I'm afraid you, Mr. Qi, would be considered top-notch in Baohe County."

Holding a cigarette stick in his mouth, Qiao Yong puffed out thick clouds of smoke through his nose and praised the Spring Festival couplets on the table repeatedly.

"Uncle Qiao, you are so complimentary. My writing skills are only average, not as good as you said.

And don’t call me Mr. Qi, just call me Xiao Qi.

I have no fame and I cannot bear the title of "Mr." "

Packing away his pen and inkstone, Qi Xiu smiled modestly.

"Hey, my eyes are very poisonous. You have great talent, but it's just not time yet. Well, here's the fee, please keep it."

Taking out a handful of coins from his pocket and handing it to Qi Xiu, Qiao Yong said seriously.

"Then I accept your good advice. This seems to be a lot of money..."

Realizing that the number of copper plates was not right, Qi Xiu was surprised and was about to hand the copper plates back.

"Take it, it's Chinese New Year, it's not easy for you to be alone, buy some delicious food." Qiao Yong stopped the hand that Qi Xiu offered.

"Then...thank you, Uncle Qiao." Feeling warm in his heart, Qi Xiu put away his things and said goodbye to the Qiao family before leaving.

Walking on the way home.

The butcher shop on the street stopped Qi Xiu in his tracks.

If you’re celebrating the Chinese New Year, let’s eat some meat today.

Touching the copper plate in his arms, Qi Xiu came to the shop with some confidence.

Liu Sanjin, the butcher who was scraping his chopping knife with a sharpening stick, saw the scholar approaching and immediately smiled and said:

"Mr. Qi, you're a rare visitor. What's the matter, still two ounces of meat?"

Money is tight, so Qi Xiu only eats meat once or twice a month, and only buys two ounces of meat each time to eat meat.

For a long time, Butcher Liu would tease Qi Xiu every time he saw him.

"Well, the old rule is, two ounces of meat, cut into shreds." Already used to Butcher Liu's ridicule, Qi Xiu stood in front of the shop with a calm expression, took out the money bag from his arms, and counted ten coins from it. Put it on the chopping board.

"Okay, the distinguished guest is here. Two taels of lean meat, cut into shreds."

After deliberately shouting loudly, Butcher Liu cut off a piece of lean meat as big as a palm with his chopping knife. After chopping for a while, he wrapped it in oil paper and handed it to Qi Xiu.

"Thank you."

With a faint thanks, Qi Xiu took the shredded meat and turned to leave.

Watching Qi Xiu walk away, Butcher Liu snorted lightly and spat out a mouthful of thick phlegm.

"Poor scholar, what are you talking about? You are as thin as a bamboo pole, and you are not afraid of being blown away by the wind."

……

Carrying the meat back home.

Brushing the snow off his shoulders, Qi Xiu picked up the copper kettle sitting on the stove, stretched his cold and numb hands over the coal fire, and gently rubbed it.

Feel your hands gradually becoming warmer.

Qi Xiu put away the copper pot and returned to the bedroom. He took out the pen, ink, paper and inkstone from his bag and placed it on the table.

Lay out a piece of slightly rough Badu paper.

"call."

With a long sigh of relief, Qi Xiu raised his wrist, twirled the tip of the deer-hair pen, dipped it lightly in ink, and touched the end of the paper.

The sky flutters like ripples on water.

The ink characters formed by swimming ink marks emerge, showing a clear and neat arrangement line by line.

【Calligraphy: 99.1%】

[Cooking skills: 7.6%]

The pupils reflected the mysterious and simple handwriting. Qi Xiu touched the tip of his nose and smiled helplessly.

Compared to other time travellers.

His golden finger appeared belatedly.

One night a month ago, I was insomnia and writing, and then I suddenly recovered.

And the magical function of this golden finger is just like its simple appearance.

As long as he does something seriously, he can gain continuous insights.

Take his writing as an example. With each stroke, insights come to his mind, and the next stroke will lead to improvement.

It can be said that this month comes down.

His calligraphy has improved even more than the previous year.

"In order to improve my proficiency in calligraphy, I have consumed more lamp oil this month than I normally would in three or four months."

Staring at the imminent perfection of proficiency behind the calligraphy, Qi Xiu pursed his lips.

In order to find out what the effect will be after reaching 100% proficiency.

This month, whenever he had time, he would pick up his pen and practice calligraphy.

In order to save ink, he practiced using a brush dipped in water.

But it's okay to do this during the day.

The lamp oil consumed by lighting lamps at night is really a big expense.

"God bless me. I hope my dozen pots of lamp oil are not wasted."

Seeing that his proficiency in calligraphy was about to be perfected, Qi Xiu planned to push it to 100% tonight.

Let’s see what effect this calligraphy will produce after it is perfected.

woo-

Late at night.

The wind and snow outside became more violent.

The strong wind roared, and the wind coming through the doors and windows stirred the oil lamps, making the candlelight flicker and faintly visible.

"The snow is really heavy this year."

Looking up at the snow that had been falling all day, Qi Xiu stood up and closed the doors and windows to prevent the cold wind from shaking the lights.

"let's start."

After flexing his fingers twice, Qi Xiu sat up straight, picked up the brush and put the ink on the paper.

Snowy night.

Single courtyard candlelight.

The room was filled with the faint fragrance of ink. The young man was sitting at the table, writing calligraphy intently.

His brows furrowed slightly, his eyes focused on the ink paper, completely immersed in the world of writing.

The tip of the pen touches the paper lightly, and every stroke is full of power and charm.

His movements are concise and precise, and he never slacks off.

Breathing is soft and powerful, blending perfectly with the rhythm of writing.

As the fonts continued to take shape, bits and pieces of insights emerged in Qi Xiu's mind.

I do not know how long it has been.

Qi Xiu, who had outlined his strong muscles and bones with one stroke, suddenly stopped moving and his eyes became blank.

An unspeakable and obscure aura escaped from his body.

The knowledge system surged in my mind like a flood, and gradually dissipated in my limbs.

half an hour.

Qi Xiu, who had come back to his senses, stared blankly at the white paper on the table.

An almost invisible golden light was flowing faintly in the ink.

……

"Hahaha!!"

late at night.

The sudden laughter scares away the birds and wakes up the neighbors!

Every house lights up.

Wrapped in cotton-padded clothes and with a frightened and angry face, he poked his head out the door and cursed:

"Who is it, having convulsions in the middle of the night?"

……

(End of this chapter)