Tang Shu was completely listless, as if she couldn't muster any interest in anything.
She reclined the backseat a bit, pulling down the black eye mask on her forehead, and was immediately enveloped in darkness.
In her mind, however, flashed all the paintings and calligraphy of the capital's contestants from last night.
It was... tragically awful.
Apart from a few decent traditional paintings and calligraphy works, the rest of the competitors' pieces were a huge letdown.
She had thought that after so many years of heritage, the countrymen would be far superior to Damo in painting and calligraphy, but to her surprise, not only had they not improved, but they had actually deteriorated severely.
Disappointment.
This was also the reason for her endless resentments.
Upon hearing this, Yang Tiantian looked surprised for a moment and wanted to ask more, but seeing through the rearview mirror that she had already laid down, she stuck out her tongue and fell silent.
