Seeing how easily Wang Xiangxiang had defeated those in chess and painting, the calligraphers promptly rose to inspect the characters she had hastily written at the start.
They thought she had written them in haste, but to their surprise, the characters were far from sloppy—a robust and powerful script that could not be achieved without a decade or eight years of practice. They, too, admitted defeat and conceded without contest.
Wang Xiangxiang smiled knowingly and turned to the person who was about to compete with her in playing the qin, "Let's collaborate on a piece, shall we? Choose whatever you'd like us to play."
By then, the young lady from the affluent family who was prepared for the qin competition dared not speak anymore, intimidated by the manner Wang Xiangxiang had just displayed, convinced that she would surely lose if they competed.
So she said, "We concede. Let's not play anymore. It'd be better for Shopkeeper Wang to play a piece for us to enjoy."
"Alright, then."
