On Aunt Wen's boat, Song Ciwan witnessed yet another wonderfully vibrant facet of the world.
If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, based on her prior experience, Song Ciwan truly couldn't have imagined that such a person existed in the world.
This woman lived in the most barren countryside, with no one to lift her up, no one to teach her. She was likely even surrounded by all sorts of invisible yet ever-present shackles.
Song Ciwan asked Aunt Wen, "Aunt Wen, you draw so beautifully. Has no one ever praised you before?"
Aunt Wen laughed as she rowed the boat. "Praise for what? It's not like you can eat or wear it. Drawing wastes time, charcoal, and cloth. Hah, my family... I'm lucky they don't chew me out when they see me drawing. Who would ever praise me? That's impossible."
Although a hint of a sigh tinged her tone as she spoke of never being praised, Aunt Wen's expression was one of clear, accustomed acceptance.
