"Of course father," Su Yao said with only the smallest tremor in her voice as she stood and bowed respectfully to her father. "Brother Wu, I'll have to trouble you," she said, turning to Wu Ling.
"For Sister Su Yao, it's no trouble at all," Wu Ling said, standing from his seat to say a few words to one of the attending servants. Moments later, as the puzzled guests watched, a small writing desk was brought to the center of the hall. Reaching into his cosmos sack, Wu Ling set out his best inkstone, brush, and a fine roll of parchment. "Sister Su Yao, the moment is yours," he said after ensuring that everything was ready for her demonstration.
"Calligraphy?" Fang Muchen said, frowning in surprise when he returned to his seat. "I'd expected a zither performance from a student of the Pure Virtue Musician's Hall."
From his own seat, Su Jixin couldn't help but smile. What Fang Muchen surely meant is that he'd expected a performance he could pay little attention to while he continued to eat. In this case, however, if he failed to pay attention to each stroke of Su Yao's brush then he couldn't be said to have seen her talent on display. After all, while eight parts in ten of the value of a piece of calligraphy lay in the final result, much could be learned about the Artist by watching the application of brush to paper.
Su Jixin wasn't entirely sure where she'd gotten the idea to display her calligraphy skills rather than playing the zither but seeing that she'd asked for help from Wu Ling and he'd been ready to meet her request, he highly suspected the young Aesthete's involvement. If that was true, perhaps he could be a bit more forgiving of the young man's deception, though he'd reserve his final judgment until he saw the results of this decision.
Stepping up to the writing desk, Su Yao took a steadying breath and slowed the beat of her heart, just as she practiced before any performance she gave at school. For a moment, she felt overwhelmed by the stares from Fang Lin's side of the table but she forced her feelings of unworthiness down when she picked up the brush. Next to the brush, in the pool of ink that Wu Ling had prepared, she could see the faintest outline of the character for 'strength.' It would vanish as soon as she dipped the brush in ink but the reminder brought a smile to her lips and gave her the push she needed to move forward.
Turning to the Fang side of the hall, she offered a brief bow towards Fang Lin. "Young Lord Fang, I hope you find the word I offer to be pleasing to your heart and mind," she said, not waiting for his reply before turning back to the parchment and dipping her brush in ink.
Closing her eyes, Su Yao began to visualize everything that she associated with the word 'Wisdom.' Ancient teachers with white hair and long brows, volumes of books, and intricate chess games all flickered through her mind's eye before she thought about Fang Lin, placing formation flags with care, gazing over documents, and calculating business matters with an abacus. All of these images and more flowed through her mind before she placed brush to paper in the first stroke of the character.
As she wrote, each of her strokes was preceded by careful visualization, every movement of the brush clear, confident, and deliberate. Slowly, despite the fact that she had yet to awaken, the spiritual power of the room began to stir along with her brush strokes, each one layering more power on top of the energy that had accumulated with the previous strokes.
"Wu Ling, that ink," Su Xiang began to ask in a hushed voice. She knew that he used a special ink, most recently one personally compounded by Alchemist Huang, whenever he used his calligraphy to make talismans. Had he actually given that extraordinary ink to Su Yao, just so she could make a gift for Fang Lin?
"It is, but the power isn't in the ink," Wu Ling answered with a smile. Not only had he given Su Yao his precious ink, the parchment he'd gifted her could also hold the energy of a potent talisman. Most importantly, however, the combination of the parchment and ink would last for many decades without fading. He might have a dim view of Fang Lin, but Su Yao was his friend. He wouldn't do anything that would hold back her chances of finding happiness if this turned out to be the happiness she sought.
"She's close to awakening," Wu Ling explained to Su Xiang and Su Yao's other friends. As martial or mystic cultivators, they might not be as sensitive to the manifestations of an Artist's power as Wu Ling was, but glancing at Su Yao's mother, Zou Suyin, he was certain she noticed it as well.
The character for 'Wisdom' was neither complicated nor simple but every stroke from Su Yao's brush contained everything she knew or felt about what it meant to be wise and make good decisions. It also contained her sincere feelings toward Fang Lin and her hopes that he would make wise decisions for many years to come. Finally, with the last stroke complete, she set down her brush and turned back to face Fang Lin.
"Young Lord Fang will face many difficult decisions in his many long years to come," she said, hoping that she would be at his side for those many long years. "Please, accept my gift of 'Wisdom' so that you may always be guided to reach the best conclusions in your deliberations and that your decisions bring you the results you desire," she said, lifting the parchment from the desk and holding it out to the stunned members of the Fang family.
All of them had been cultivators long enough to feel the power that accompanied each stroke of Su Yao's brush. For an awakened Aesthete to have such power with their brush strokes was expected, but to feel a gathering of power from a mortal? Such talent was unheard of! Fang Lin's eyes flickered to his father's only to find a matching intention in the older man's gaze. This girl would surely go far in her cultivation journey. Such talent couldn't be allowed to escape their grasp, they had to have her!