I Was Driven Down the Mountain by the Sect, but My Paintings Became the Treasure of Enlightenment

The drizzle is like silk, casting a gray gauze over this small town that is attached to the cultivating sect. At the end of the street, a small shop called "Chang Qing Zhai" has just hung a plaque. The store door was ajar, giving off an extremely deserted chill. Gu Changqing stood behind the counter, holding a rag in his hand and wiping the broken wooden table that had been turned several times. He sighed, with a bit of helplessness and self-deprecation in his eyes. "After traveling through three years, I ended up being kicked out."