"At your age, to possess such painting skills is enough to show your love and dedication to the art," Hua Wuqing said with a gratified smile.
"I dare not claim excellence. I still fall far short of my ancestors," Song Qianqiu hastily replied.
"Take this Divine Brush. Remember to treat it well; it has already developed its own intelligence. If you're not the haven it seeks, it will leave you on its own," Hua Wuqing advised.
Song Qianqiu nodded solemnly, then took the Divine Brush from Hua Wuqing's hand.
He examined the Divine Brush before him; it actually didn't look particularly remarkable, almost like any ordinary wolf hair brush.
Tight clusters of small characters were inscribed on the brush handle.
"A single wolf hair brush to paint all creation under heaven, a lifetime's splatter of ink to knock on the Great Dao and the human heart."
Song Qianqiu also knew this wasn't a good place to accept the inheritance, to avoid disturbance.
