"So, are you Gongsun Mo, Zheng Shan, or… Zheng Xiu?"
As Xie Luohe voiced this question in a calm tone,
Zheng Xiu felt a sudden chill run down his back, snapping him out of his state of Concentration.
A drop of thick ink landed on the woman's face in the portrait, completely blackening it. The ink slowly began to bleed outwards. Zheng Xiu's eyelid twitched. He found the image shockingly disturbing, but he couldn't say why. It was, after all, just a painting.
Why, though?
"Redraw it."
Xie Luohe looked at Zheng Xiu with a smile, her tone gentle yet carrying an undeniable firmness.
Zheng Xiu silently prepared the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone again.
Lifting the brush once more, he stared at the pristine white paper, unable to make a stroke for a long time.
Xie Luohe didn't rush him. Instead, she watched him quietly from her seat on a rock across the green flower bushes, her expression calm, her lips occasionally curling into a slight smile.
