Song Yun's car turned off the bustling Wangfujing and onto Shuaifu Garden Road.
What came into view was the classical architecture with green tiles, flying eaves, and colorful painted beams; this was the old building of the Xiehe.
Amidst the lively urban setting, this venerable edifice stood out with its dignity and steadiness. It stood mature, detached from worldly affairs, and proud yet not complacent.
Rigorous, meticulous, diligent, dedicated, generation after generation of the Xiehe people have left a legacy as pure and profound as the old building.
"Would you like to rest in the hospital guesthouse first?" Song Yun decelerated the car and moved on slowly.
Yang Ping shook his head: "No, if it's possible, I'd like to see Professor Liang first."