Whether it was calligraphy or painting, he was quite skilled.
Zhuang Zhixi wasn't sure if he was a master of calligraphy and painting, probably not.
But for ordinary people like them, they didn't need to judge whether it was a masterpiece. As long as it looked "real," that was good enough. After all, how many could achieve such authenticity? Zhuang Zhixi smiled and moved closer, saying, "Feel free to instruct me. I'd love to see how it's done."
Old Huang: "Alright, but first, let's make a window."
Zhuang Zhixi: "Huh?"
Old Huang: "Yang Bailao's house needs a window to look realistic, with snow falling outside."
Zhuang Zhixi wasn't very good at this, but he spread his hands and said, "I'll follow your instructions. Just tell me what to do!"
Old Huang looked at Zhuang Zhixi and nodded, "Alright, come, I'll explain it to you."
