Chapter 8 The First Lesson

Flames shot up in all directions, sparks flying everywhere as the fire consumed the entire cardboard box, billowing thick black smoke.

Lucas couldn't stop Sophia in time. Watching the dancing flames in the metal barrel, he could only stand there and break down crying.

Those papers represented two years of his hard work, every step of his journey toward his dream of becoming a professional calligrapher.

But Sophia had burned them all to ashes with a single match.

As if telling him, you would never become a master calligrapher.

"Sophia, why did you burn them! Those were my treasures! Give them back!"

Lucas wailed, snot and tears mixing on his little face.

His earth-shaking sobs and the heavy black smoke drew all the neighbors who'd been relaxing in the garden.

They gathered around, asking what had happened.

Lucas cried so hard his whole body shook, choking on his words, unable to speak.

Sophia ignored the stares and curious concern from the crowd.

She grabbed a communal broom nearby, dipped it in some water, and began writing on the ground with flowing, graceful strokes.

The broom moved like an extension of her will, somehow creating the subtle pressure and release of proper brushwork.

Each stroke began with restrained elegance and ended with crisp precision, every line demonstrating years of skill.

No one would believe such characters could be written with a broom.

Even Lucas stopped crying in amazement, staring at the words on the ground, unable to snap out of his trance.

Several elderly people in the crowd who understood calligraphy couldn't help but applaud.

"Incredible! The strokes are steady yet effortless, perfectly balancing strength and grace!"

"More than that, her pressure control is masterful. You can tell she's been practicing for years!"

Sophia paid no attention to their praise, dropping the broom and walking slowly toward her brother. She knelt in front of him and said seriously, "Writing without soul might as well be burned for warmth. Want to become a master calligrapher? This is your first lesson."

Lucas stared at Sophia in a daze, struggling to understand the deeper meaning of her words.

Sophia continued, "Calligraphy is art, and art is emotional expression—not something you can achieve through mere copying and transcription. You have talent. Think carefully about what I'm saying. In a few days, I'll take you to meet someone."

Lucas sniffled, wiping his face with his small hands, stopping his tears. "Meet who?"

Sophia stood up, ruffling his hair. "A friend of mine, a truly exceptional professional calligrapher."

...

Experts said it was normal for growing children to love sleeping in, and since sleep helped them grow taller, Mary never objected to Lucas sleeping late during vacation.

So when she saw him fully dressed and bright-eyed in the living room at seven in the morning, Mary panicked.

Was he sick?

Why was he up so early?

"Mom! Sophia said she's taking me to meet an exceptional professional calligrapher today!"

"That doesn't mean you need to get up this early," Mary said, worriedly feeling Lucas's forehead to make sure he didn't have a fever before relaxing.

Just then, Sophia emerged from her room with a bag slung over her shoulder. She walked straight to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, drained it in one gulp, then said, "Mom, I'm taking Lucas to my friend's place. It's quite a drive, so we need to leave early. Don't bother with breakfast—let's grab something out."

Mary could tell Sophia was in a bit of a hurry and quickly nodded. "Alright, let me change clothes."

"Where's James?" Sophia asked.

"James is changing too! He said he's meeting classmates at the library to catch up on homework," Lucas answered.

Ray had already left at six to work.

After Mary and James got dressed, the four of them went to a breakfast diner near the farmer's market for a quick bite.

"James, my friend's coming to pick us up and can drop you off at the library," Sophia had called Michael last night to borrow his driver.

The car was already waiting at yesterday's intersection.

After saying goodbye to Mary, the three kids set off.

James and Lucas froze when they saw the vehicle they'd be riding in.

Sophia glanced at the Toyota logo and rubbed her forehead.

She'd asked Michael to send his cheapest car, and he'd said he'd lend her a Toyota. Who could have predicted it would be the latest model Toyota Sienna?

For Michael, it really was cheap, around $200,000.

But compared to the Johnson family's beat-up used car, wasn't it a bit excessive?

"Sophia, this... is your friend's car?" James wasn't doubting that Sophia could have wealthy friends, but rather marveling that even after leaving the Smith family, she could still casually borrow such a nice vehicle.

For a moment, he felt confused—was Sophia still a Smith family heiress or not?

"Yes." Sophia quickly composed herself.

Once in the car, the two sat in the middle seats while Lucas settled in the back row.

"Library first, please," Sophia instructed simply.

The driver started the engine, and they were off.

Sophia picked up her phone to text Michael.

Sophia: [Michael, this is what you call a Toyota?]

Michael: [It's over a two-hour drive. Didn't want you to be uncomfortable sitting for so long, so I picked this one specifically.]

Sophia: [I don't remember this car being in your garage.]

Michael: [Just bought it. Perfect timing, now I can catch some sleep on my way to the airport.]

With that explanation, Sophia didn't say more, even though she knew Michael had bought it specifically for her.

After dropping James at the library, the car got back on the road, heading toward the suburbs on the other side of the city.

Lucas had been too excited to sleep much last night and had gotten up too early today. Now he was lying across the back seat, fast asleep.

The journey was rather monotonous. Sophia boredly scrolled through the day's financial news and dozed off as well.

When she woke up, they'd reached their destination.

Sophia gently shook the sleeping Lucas. "Lucas, we're here."

Lucas opened his eyes, yawning and stretching, then looked out the window.

Vast plains stretched as far as the eye could see, with rolling hills and flowing streams. White clouds drifted lazily around the mountaintops like mist and smoke, creating a scene like something from a fairy tale.

Lucas's pupils dilated as he stared at the scenery outside, unable to look away. "Sophia, where are we?"

"My friend's place."