Flash Marriage with Dr. Huo

The September sunshine shines through the gaps in the leaves of the sycamore trees, casting mottled light and shadows on the bluestone slabs.

Gu Zhian, a second-year graduate student, stood behind the calligraphy club's recruitment booth, his slender fingers gently stroking the edge of a piece of rice paper. He was wearing a navy blue shirt, which accentuated his already cool demeanor, making it even more distant.

Next to the sycamore tree, people were coming and going in front of the exhibition booth, but he seemed to be out of the loop, his eyes always fixed on the inkstone in front of him.

The lingering scent of ink brought back memories of his childhood days practicing calligraphy in his grandfather's study. Back then, the sun was just as warm, streaming through the window onto the desk as his grandfather held his hand, teaching him to copy the "Lanting Preface" stroke by stroke.

“Senior! Hello!”

The crisp sound interrupted his childhood memories. Gu Zhian looked up and saw a girl with a ponytail standing in front of the booth.

She was wearing a light pink dress, the hem of which swayed gently with her movements.

"I want to sign up for the calligraphy club! Is that okay?" The girl's eyes curved into crescents as she smiled. "My name is Tang Xiaqing, and I'm a sophomore."

Gu Zhian noticed a rose quartz bracelet on her slender wrist, which reflected a soft light in the sunlight. He lowered his eyes and took out the registration form from the drawer: "Fill in the basic information."

Tang Xiaqing took the form and leaned over the booth, carefully filling in her name, phone number, class, and other information. Her handwriting was a little sloppy, but it was full of spirit.

After completing the information registration, Gu Zhian's gaze unconsciously fell on her slightly trembling eyelashes.

"Senior, your handwriting must be beautiful, right?" Tang Xiaqing suddenly raised her head, and Gu Zhian didn't have time to look away before he met her bright eyes.

He coughed lightly to cover up his gaffe: "Not bad."

"Can you write my name?" Tang Xiaqing took out a notebook from her bag. "I want to see what real calligraphy looks like."

Gu Zhian took the notebook and flipped to the first page. The paper was covered with drawings of various cartoon characters and a few scattered lines of poetry. He picked up the brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote the three words "Tang Xiaqing" in the blank space. His handwriting was vigorous and powerful, yet also had a touch of elegance.

"Wow!" Tang Xiaqing exclaimed, "This is so beautiful! Senior, can you teach me?"

Gu Zhian put down his brush: "Calligraphy requires a calm mind."

"I'm very good at concentrating!" Tang Xiaqing said eagerly. "Look, I can even listen to the most boring classical Chinese elective course with great interest."

Gu Zhian looked at her cheeks, which were slightly flushed with excitement, and suddenly felt that this noisy girl was not so annoying. He pointed to the chair next to him and said, "Sit down."

Tang Xiaqing immediately sat down obediently, with her hands on her knees, like a student waiting for a lecture. Gu Zhian took a small calligraphy brush from the pen holder and handed it to her: "Learn to hold the brush first."

"Is that so?" Tang Xiaqing held the pen awkwardly.

Gu Zhian frowned: "No." He walked around behind her, leaned over and held her hand, "Place your thumb like this, and your index finger like this..."

His voice stopped abruptly.

There was a faint scent of jasmine on Tang Xiaqing's hair, which drifted gently with her breath. Her hair accidentally brushed against his cheek, bringing an indescribable touch.

"Senior?" Tang Xiaqing turned her head, her nose almost touching his chin.

Gu Zhian suddenly stood up, his ears burning slightly: "Try it yourself."

Tang Xiaqing didn't notice his abnormality and concentrated on practicing pen holding.

Her wrists were very thin, and her skin was so white that you could almost see the blue veins. Gu Zhian forced himself to look away, but he couldn't help but follow her every move with his peripheral vision.

"Senior, do you think I'm doing this right?" Tang Xiaqing raised her pen and looked at him expectantly.

Gu Zhian nodded: "Not bad."

“Can I write a word?”

"random."

Tang Xiaqing dipped her pen in ink and scribbled the word "学" (learn) on the paper. Gu Zhian looked at the crooked word, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously raised a tiny arc.

"It's so difficult..." Tang Xiaqing muttered, "Senior, how long did it take you to practice to write so well?"

"ten years."

"Wow! Doesn't that mean I have to wait until I'm thirty to be able to write beautiful characters?"

Gu Zhian looked at her exaggerated expression and suddenly found it a little funny: "If you keep practicing every day, you can get started in three years."

"Really?" Tang Xiaqing's eyes lit up, "Then senior, are you willing to teach me?"

Gu Zhian didn't answer immediately. He noticed a small ink stain on Tang Xiaqing's skirt, probably from an accidental rub. She seemed completely oblivious, still looking at him expectantly.

"The calligraphy club holds activities every Tuesday and Thursday at 4 p.m. in the calligraphy classroom on the second floor of the Art Building," he finally said.

"Great!" Tang Xiaqing jumped up happily, "I will definitely attend on time!"

At this moment, a gust of wind blew, rolling up the rice paper on the exhibition stand. Gu Zhian quickly reached out to grab it, but saw that Tang Xiaqing had already nimbly caught the flying paper.

Her movements were as light as a butterfly, and her skirt drew graceful arcs in the wind.

"Here you go." Tang Xiaqing handed him the rice paper, her fingertips accidentally brushing against the back of his hand. The feeling of that moment made Gu Zhian's heart skip a beat.

"Thank you." He whispered, smoothing the rice paper carefully.

Tang Xiaqing looked at her phone and said, "Ah, it's almost lunch time. Senior, are you going to the cafeteria later?"

Gu Zhian shook his head: "Yes."

"How about we go together?"

Gu Zhian responded: "I have to wait for the vice president to come back after dinner."

"OK!" Tang Xiaqing packed up her things happily. "I'm going to eat first. See you, senior!"

She turned and walked away. Gu Zhian looked at her back.

The sun is still warm and the scent of ink is still lingering.

Gu Zhian looked down at the three words "Tang Xiaqing" on the rice paper, and suddenly felt that today's sunshine was particularly bright, and her clear eyes were filled with his mind.

After class on the second Tuesday afternoon, in the calligraphy club classroom, the sycamore leaves outside the window rustled, and fine sunlight poured in, casting light and shadow on the rice paper.

Tang Xiaqing's hand holding the brush trembled slightly, and a drop of ink fell on the paper with a "pop", spreading out a black stain.

"I wrote it badly again..." She sighed in frustration and was about to change a new piece of paper when she suddenly felt a cool breath coming from behind her.

"Relax your wrists." Gu Zhian's low voice sounded in her ears, and his warm breath brushed past her ears.

"Then teach me." Tang Xiaqing said.

Then, a slender hand covered the back of her hand.

Her heart beat faster.

Gu Zhian stood behind her, holding her in his arms, his chest pressed against her back.

"Hold the pen like this." His fingers gently adjusted her position. "Keep your wrist in the air, not on the paper."

Tang Xiaqing felt her face getting hot. Gu Zhian's cool aura enveloped her, his breath so close that she could hardly concentrate.

"Focus." He seemed to notice her distraction, and there was a hint of helplessness in his voice.

Tang Xiaqing quickly gathered her thoughts and followed his force across the paper. Gu Zhian's hand was steady, guiding her as he wrote the character "Tang" stroke by stroke. The ink spread across the rice paper, the brushstrokes powerful and vigorous.

"Do you understand?" he asked in a low voice.

Tang Xiaqing nodded, then shook her head: "I seem to understand, but I also seem not to understand..."

Gu Zhian chuckled: "Then write it again."

His hand once again covered hers, guiding her to start writing again. This time, Tang Xiaqing finally felt the turning point of the pen. Gu Zhian's hand was very cold, but it warmed her whole body.

"Pause your brush here." His voice was so soft, almost a whisper, "Then lift the brush and retract the tip."

Tang Xiaqing held her breath, afraid to disturb this moment. The sun shone warmly on them, and the scent of ink hung in the air. She wished time would stop at this moment and never pass.

"Have you learned it?" Gu Zhian immediately let go of her hand when she finished writing the word.

Tang Xiaqing turned her head and found his face close at hand. His eyelashes were very long, casting a shadow under his eyes, and his eyes reflected her image.

"Not even close..." she said with a blink.

Gu Zhian's heart felt a throbbing he had never felt before, and the corners of his lips curled up slightly: "Then continue practicing."

Gu Zhian led her to write the second word. Tang Xiaqing felt her heartbeat was alarmingly loud, and she was afraid he would hear it. She secretly raised her eyes and saw his profile was stern.

A month later on National Day, Gu Zhian took her home to meet his parents with full sincerity.