Even after the poetry gathering ended, Chen Yunfan still couldn't understand how Chen Yi's Calligraphy had reached such a profound level.
He had clearly been confined inside the mansion by his mother for three long years, without access to paper or brushes. How could he...
'Oh, maybe he practiced his Calligraphy alone in his room, using his hand as a brush, water as ink, and the floor as paper.'
'And his Poetry... he must have recalled what he'd previously learned every single day to achieve his current skill.'
As Chen Yunfan made these guesses, he sighed inwardly. 'Mother, why on earth did you lock up Brother Yi?'
'If Chen Yi hadn't been locked up, he probably wouldn't have achieved so much.'
'Father was right. A person can't become great without enduring hardship.'
'Fortunately, I've already become great.'
Thinking about how he was now the Imperial Top Scholar of the Great Wei Dynasty, a smug look appeared on Chen Yunfan's face.
