Lin Xi was startled.
He didn't know why Sheng Qingtang would ask such a question, but still answered, "Yes, President Sheng, last Saturday I had just delivered this piece of calligraphy to Master Wei Hou. He said it was his practice work."
"Practice work?" Sheng Qingtang held back, nearly falling in the temptation to slap him, remembering this was not his own son.
He burst into an angry laugh, "With Wei Hou's crappy handwriting, he has the nerve to say this calligraphy is his practice work? Is he worthy?!"
With that statement, the expressions of the other art masters around them changed.
Even though Sheng Qingtang was focused on calligraphy, he had also made achievements in traditional Chinese painting and sculpture, holding a very high position in the art world, almost unmatched.
He had a quirky temper and had no apprentices under him.
But this did not prevent the other art masters from respecting him deeply.