Lin Anxiang: "Grandpa, we definitely got it right. Not only does he paint well, but he's also quite talented with words. That poem was composed by him off the top of his head. Although there are some flaws in the rhyming, it's still a very fitting poem. The most important thing is... both my sister's and my names are in the poem, perfectly matching the content of the picture. Grandpa, don't you think he's talented?"
Lin Zhengtian: "Hehehe... indeed very talented. That a driver could have such talent is beyond my imagination. The way he writes isn't a skill a young person could have; it takes at least a few decades to master."
Lin Shuying: "Heehee... he's only in his twenties, about the same age as my sister and me."
Lin Zhengtian: "What? The same age as you? Strange, strange. How could someone so young have such skill? Go call Ah Fu over, I have something for him to do."
Lin Shuying: "Oh, okay. But what does grandpa want Ah Fu for?"
