```
Gu Chen asked with curiosity, "Isn't writing elegiac couplets your strong suit? How could it bother you?"
As a child, when Gu Chen visited his home, Old Wang was always writing, and his calligraphy was like floating clouds and flowing water—grand and elegant.
Old Wang shook his head helplessly, "It's not like the old days anymore, I've gotten old, and the body won't lie, my hands always tremble. Forget it, I'll head back first."
If not for his shaky hands, he wouldn't have had to quit calligraphy; thinking about it was frustrating.
Upon hearing this, Gu Chen didn't insist further.
He nodded, "Alright, Uncle Wang, you do what you need to do, I'll bring you a bowl when it's ready!"
Although hotpot is supposed to be eaten as it cooks, country folks aren't so particular; it tastes just as good eaten after it's all cooked.
For Old Wang, as long as he had something to eat, that was enough!
Old Wang didn't decline; he cracked a smile.
