In one's life, one always wants to fight and struggle for something.
I was born in an era filled with smoke. Although I love ink painting, I still have the opportunity to learn in these troubled times.
My teacher is a taciturn young man. His face is gray and his eyes are dull, but his paintings are lifelike.
I asked him more than once: Teacher, what do you want most?
Whenever this happens, he will smile and touch my head, then turn to look at the plum blossoms outside the window.
The plum trees have lost their fruits, and under the sunlight, the veins are clearly visible.
Conception: