Not far from the painting stall was a tavern.
On the second floor, the window was open.
A man stood there staring at the painting stall.
The Heir of Duke Chong walked over and said, "You've been standing by the window for half a day, could he be Zhao Xu, the son of the Right Minister of Nanliang?"
"Probably not," the man replied.
"Are you sure?" asked the Heir of Duke Chong.
The man looked at the painting stall and said, "Zhao Xu is gentle and elegant, renowned in Nanliang, the foremost young master of the illustrious families there. He would never lower himself to sell paintings on the street like this."
"Prime Minister Zhao is shrewd and cunning as a fox; Young Master Zhao is known as 'Little Prime Minister Zhao' in our Nanliang. How could he fall to such a state?" said the man.
The Heir of Duke Chong thought about himself. If he were to fall to Nanliang, he would never resort to selling paintings on the street either.
