A Cursive Hand Prime Minister Zhang was fond of handwriting, but he didn't put in a lot of effort to do his exercises. Everybody sneered at his bad handwriting, and the Prime Minister himself really didn't care.

One day he happened to draft a beautiful sentence and at once wielded his writing brush to write it down, indeed, there were dragons flying and snakes dancing all over the paper. Then he ordered his nephew to copy it.

When beginning to copy, his nephew stared tongue-tied and did not know where to start. The young man had to take the manuscript back to the Prime Minister.

"Uncle, I can't read your handwriting, please tell me what words they are."

The Prime Minister read his cursive hand a long time, and did not know what Chinese characters they were, either. He then turned to blame his nephew. "Why didn't you come earlier to ask me? I myself have forgotten the words which I've written."

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