Yu Hang pressed Xi Minghui's shoulder to stop him from retorting agitatedly.
"Chiang Xiao is right," he said.
Chiang Xiao spoke, "How come you can draft your own agreement that favors you and ask for my help, but I can't propose my own conditions?"
Xi Minghui was momentarily at a loss for words.
"I ask you," Chiang Xiao continued, "you say that if the old master sees a painting he likes, he might become somewhat clearer in mind, but you can't guarantee the extent of this clarity, can you? No one can, right?"
Yu Hang hesitated, then nodded in agreement.
Chiang Xiao went on, "Is it certain he'll become clear-headed enough to help you? What if he really does like the painting, but the degree of his liking doesn't reach the point where he wants to help you?"
Only something deeply moving, something he really likes and delights in, would be worth such a favor.
Right?
But who among those searching for a painting to give to that old man can guarantee this point?