At the entrance of the Yang Family in Dapu East Village.
Shu Xing stepped out of the carriage, looked at the impressive row of small buildings, and couldn't help but nod. Then he lifted his eyes to the plaque at the door of the building, which had the words "Daguan Building" written on it, and nodded again: "Qingheng, your calligraphy has improved."
"Father, Qingheng's calligraphy inherits your elegance and style." Shu Jingzhi also nodded, "I think he's better than my older brother."
"Second Uncle, that's an exaggeration. How could I compare to my Uncle?" Gu Qingheng quickly shook his head.
"You don't need to be modest. Your calligraphy is indeed good, but you must practice regularly, just like martial arts. If you skip a day, you backslide."
"I will heed my grandfather's teachings." Gu Qingheng humbly bowed in response, then supported the old man as they entered the door.
