monument

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My grandfather was a stonemason, or to be precise, a stele carver.
This craft was originally passed on from male to female, but many years ago, my grandfather committed a taboo in this industry, so none of the male members of the family stayed, and he also fell seriously ill.
Since then, my grandfather has stopped doing this business and raised ducks and chickens at home every day.
It wasn't until someone asked him to come out of the mountain to carve a town tombstone that my grandfather had no choice but to choose me, my granddaughter, as the heir.
On the first day of learning stele engraving, I encountered a strange thing...

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