亚洲国产丝袜专区

Ding Shan did not study much about calligraphy, but when she was young, she yearned to be able to go to school like an ordinary child. Even if her parents signed her up for a lot of extra-curricular tutoring classes, she could still have a lot of new partners, and she would also be able to learn many novel skills.

This was something that Ding Shan, who had been in various studios and film sets since she was young, had always dreamed of.

Therefore, Ding Shan was particularly interested in this aspect. Other than the various skills that she had to master as an artiste, which Ding Wan had forced on her and found a teacher to tutor, Ding Shan also liked to memorize various poems secretly; she would learn cultural knowledge on her own.

Cultural knowledge was easier to learn. Ding Shan would find information on her own and secretly learn it. However, most of the music teachers that Ding Wan found for her only taught her a little before they ended in a hurry.

For Ding Wan, she would be fine if Ding Shan knew a little bit of everything and could put on a show at a critical moment. There was no need to waste time and money to learn those things. Therefore, Ding Shan studied and practiced independently, and she tried all means to ask the teacher for advice. Once, Ding Wan found out that she had contacted the teacher privately and scolded her, saying that her thoughts were not in the right place.

What was the right place? To make money?

Ding Shan was not convinced but did not dare to resist. She could only practice more secretly. This was how dancing persisted little by little.

She remembered that one time, a classmate of Ding Shan’s at school contacted Ding Shan. Out of curiosity, the child was very enthusiastic toward the classmate who was a star. He kept asking whether it was fun to be a star. He complained that his handwriting was too ugly, and his parents forced him to learn calligraphy. It was not fun at all, and he was tired every day.

However, Ding Shan could not even complain. Who should she tell her suffering to? She would instead learn calligraphy for a day and a night than face so many reporters.

The classmate also showed Ding Shan his handwriting. At that time, the Little Ding Shan had not been exposed to this kind of culture and felt it was very novel. It turned out that there was so much attention paid to writing. At that time, Ding Shan naively went to find Ding Wan to learn calligraphy. However, Ding Wan impatiently rejected her.

Ding Shan still remembered that Ding Wan’s face was dark then, and he was cursing at her, “Damn it, I’ve never studied any books in my entire life, and I can still write. Do you still need to learn this stuff? You need to write your name well. You don’t need to write anything other than signing your name!”

This matter could only be dropped.

Later on, Ding Shan shot a movie. An old actor often drank tea and wrote to relax on the set. Ding Shan would often run to him to watch. As time passed, the aging actor would also call Ding Shan over to explain to her. He would let Ding Shan practice on her own.

Ding Shan looked forward to the break time on the set every day because only then would she be able to come into contact with new things that she had never come into contact with before.

However, her happy time was quickly interrupted by Yang Hua. Yang Hua felt that Ding Shan was not doing her proper job on the set. Since she had time to hang out with the old man, she might as well take on an advertisement. She complained to Ding Wan; later, she could no longer look for aged actors.

Therefore, Ding Shan did not learn calligraphy. She only remembered that the old actor had once said something to her. He said, “Writing is just like being a person. You have to pay attention to following your heart. There aren’t so many rules. Just let your hands follow your heart. You, little child, are still young, but your nature has been restrained. You’ve lost your self-esteem!”

In the past, Ding Shan had always been cautious and was constantly bullied. Her writing was also well-behaved, and she did not dare to make any mistakes. Her writing was delicate and pretty, but she had lost her integrity.

Ding Shan did not understand the words of the old playwright at that time. She thought that she had written poorly and was despised by the old man. However, when she was writing just now, Ding Shan thought of this sentence again and suddenly understood.

Words were just like people. The words written by a person were closely related to their state of mind. In the past, she was scared every day and was forced by Ding Wan and Yang Hua to be a perfect daughter who could not make any mistakes. Naturally, she did not dare to write as she pleased.

However, now, she had freedom and a goal to pursue. The little things that she had accumulated over the two lifetimes had gathered into a complicated emotion. The moment she picked up the pen, it was as if she had learned it by herself and started writing along with her feelings.

Ding Shan did not know if her writing was good or not. She only felt that her emotions seemed to have a channel to vent after she finished writing, and her heart was delighted.

She had never thought that she could write such bold and aggressive fonts.