Mu Chenxi had only seen Luo Shangqing's writing on the blackboard, which was quite pleasing to the eye, with strong, flowing strokes. But when he wrote during class, it was very quick and not particularly careful, and he mostly spoke or used PPTs. So, she knew his handwriting was good but had no idea that it had reached the level of calligraphy.
"Come, Shangqing, show your disciple here," Teacher Yuan handed over the writing brush and personally spread out a piece of xuan paper for him.
Luo Shangqing did not hold back; he rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing a section of his toned forearm. His hands, when writing on the blackboard, had often fascinated Mu Chenxi. Now seeing his professional pen-holding posture, his slender body slightly bent like a bow due to writing, and the literary aura emanating from his whole being, the destructiveness was comparable to an atomic bomb.
