"Dad, Mo and his friends have come over," Shen Fei said.
Uncle Shen's hand shook, ruining another piece of paper. "Ah!..."
He put down the brush, turned around, saw Shen Mo, and finally smiled, saying, "You're back, all of you sit, sit! Xiaofei, go make some tea!"
Bai Youwei acted exceptionally proactive, laughing lightly, "Uncle, please continue writing, no need to specifically entertain us. Are you writing in Clerical Script? It seems we came at an inconvenient time, causing your last stroke to be unstable. What a pity to spoil such fine characters."
Uncle Shen felt very pleased inside, and his smile turned even brighter, "Just so-so."
"If you call this level so-so, then we might as well stop writing altogether, many young people nowadays can't even hold a brush properly," Bai Youwei laughed, "They say handwriting reflects the person. With an example like Uncle, no wonder the Shen family youngsters are so talented."
Shen Mo: "..."
