The moment the signboard of Health Care Hall was hung over the door frame, it quickly attracted the attention of a group of old neighbors.
The morning sunlight filtered through the gaps in the wutong leaves, casting mottled shadows on the yellow pearwood plaque, which shone with an amber luster.
The three golden characters "Health Care Hall" on the plaque displayed a calligraphy style that was both vigorous and flowing, each stroke seemingly containing the truth of the universe, making those who looked at it feel a sense of peace.
"Oh my!" Grandpa Zhang, leaning on his ebony cane, reached out tremblingly, his age-spotted fingers gently tracing the edges of the plaque's patterns.
The warm texture of the wood made his murky eyes widen slightly, "This luster...these wood grains..."
He smacked his lips, his voice trembling a bit, "I've lived to be eighty-three years old, and this is the first time I've seen such an antique!"
