Her heart ached, and she found herself thinking about her late grandfather.
Her grandfather had indeed loved calligraphy during his lifetime, however, he could no longer write.
In that moment, Ren Feifan gently touched Cui Ying's shoulder, his gesture instantly scattering her negative feelings.
As she looked at the painting in her hand, it was clear to her that she couldn't simply part with it.
Given his personality, Sun Quanzhou would never accept such a market-bought painting. Besides, she sensed that the value of Qian Shihui's calligraphy might far exceed that of the painting.
The prospect of securing that piece of land seemed increasingly dim.
But then again, nobody can expect to build a successful business overnight. In the worst case, they would simply find a different location.
Just as Cui Ying was about to say something, Ren Feifan stood and addressed the youth, "You are half right, the gift we intend to give is indeed a piece of calligraphy."
