Tang Feng sipped his tea melodramatically amidst their angry glares before continuing.
"It's quite simple, Mr. Dongpo's writing is elegant and unrestrained, not sticking to any particular form," he said.
"However, this piece of writing, while deliberately imitating that style, appears to be constrained by rules with every stroke."
"Although the imitation is good, it can only mimic the form, not the spirit..."
After Tang Feng explained his reasoning, he looked back at the two of them to see a hint of surprise on their faces.
"Did I say something wrong?" he asked, puzzled, looking at Mr. Zhang.
Mr. Zhang snapped out of his daze, his expression complex, "You just glanced at it and saw all that?"
Tang Feng raised an eyebrow, "Doesn't seem too difficult, does it?"
Mr. Zhang's mouth twitched noticeably.
