At the entrance of the Imperial College, the crowd slowly parted, and a scholarly man in his fifties walked through the corridor. He approached Chu Qingzhi with utmost humility, "My name is Wang Lingxi, and I am honored to meet Miss Chu."
Is this the famous calligrapher from the capital?
Dressed in a white robe, exuding the scent of ink, he epitomized the image of a literati.
Chu Qingzhi glanced at him subtly and returned the greeting with a smile, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wang."
"Miss Chu, there's no need for formalities," Wang Lingxi said modestly. "I have long wished to meet you, and today my wish is finally fulfilled."
"You flatter me, Mr. Wang," replied Chu Qingzhi politely.
"Not at all. You are just too modest," Wang Lingxi admired Chu Qingzhi greatly. "Miss Chu, your mastery in calligraphy is profound. Why don't you join me in evaluating the calligraphy works?"
