"Yes, master." The old servant respectfully nodded, then proceeded directly to the desk where Huang Xiaolong had just written.
'Hmph! The insolence of this youth! The master already showed him face earlier, but he doesn't know when to advance or retreat, insists on showing his writing to the master…'
Deep resentment toward Huang Xiaolong filled the old servant's heart.
At this moment, the old servant grabbed Huang Xiaolong's work rather rudely, took a quick glance, and then, his face full of mockery, couldn't help saying, "As I thought, it's just chicken scratch!"
The old servant held Huang Xiaolong's work high up so that all the guests in the garden could see clearly.
What Huang Xiaolong had written was strange, it was neither a poem nor a song, but the character for "longevity."
The paper was completely filled with the character "longevity," almost a hundred times over.
A few breaths later—
