Zhang Qingsong's loss of composure had shocked the onlookers, including Zhou Jiangming, who all wore incredulous expressions. What was happening?
"I did not recognize your artwork before, and it was due to my poor sight. Please, Master, forgive my superficiality..."
Zhang Qingsong stopped sobbing, offered various apologies, and even started to slap himself viciously across the face.
Ning Fan directly grabbed Zhang Qingsong's hand and then helped him up.
He said indifferently, "To know one's mistakes and be able to correct them is indeed great."
The crowd: "..."
Zhang Qingsong simply nodded his head and did not think there was anything wrong with what Ning Fan had said, following which he dialed a number.
"If my master could see this painting, it would fulfill his lifelong dream. I must tell my master to come and observe it."
