New Year's Eve.
The children arose early. After greeting their elders, they congregated in the study to watch Li Xiao write the New Year scrolls.
The hair on Old Mr. Li's head had turned almost completely white. His dry and papery hand held on to a cane as he sat to the side and watched his son.
The writing of the New Year scrolls used to be done by Old Mr. Li. But now that he could no longer hold the brush, this duty had been passed on to his son.
The patriarch looked on, and instructed, "Put more strength in your hands." At the sound of his voice, Li Xiao's grip on the brush tightened.
Old Mr. Li nodded his head in satisfaction and commended, "That's right." As he spoke, he looked to the three children. "Watch how your grandfather writes. The three of you will have to learn calligraphy in the future too. This is the quintessence of Chinese culture. It cannot be lost."
