Dressed as a paranoid male supporting white moonlight

Chapter 220 Unreal
Jiang Xian heard Cui Nong and the others snickering in the hallway, and looked at them, knowing that they were teasing her and Qin Yanfeng.

"I don't want to read it." Jiang Xian lost all interest and closed the page.

Qin Yanfeng said: "Then don't read it. The characters in the script are small, and it hurts your eyes if you read too much."

Jiang Xian hesitated for a while, and finally choked out a sentence, asking: "Aren't you going to talk to mother Sui Xing and the others?"

It's okay to be idle, why do you always hang around her?
Qin Yanfeng smiled warmly, "I just want to be with my wife during this time."

Jiang Xian didn't need him to accompany her, so she immediately said: "Mother misses you very much, you should go and visit her. I'm a little tired right now, and I want to go back to the room and lie down."

After finishing speaking, she put the book back on the rocking chair, got up and wanted to enter the house.

"do not."

Qin Yanfeng tugged at her sleeves and did not let go, "I just woke up, why are you sleeping again? You are weak and need more sun exposure."

Jiang Xian bit her lips and looked embarrassed, before she could think of a suitable word of refusal, Qin Yanfeng took her hand, which was as thin as a catkin, and walked towards the study together.

"What?"

"I heard from Sui Xing that Madam's painting skills are amazing, and I want to observe it."

Qin Yanfeng saw Jiang Xian's estrangement, if she followed her wishes, wouldn't she go further and further away.

Finding words for nothing, looking for troubles for nothing, even if he is thick-skinned, he must have enough sense of presence in front of Jiang Xian.

Jiang Xian shook his hand twice, but did not shake off.

She was weak, and Qin Yanfeng held her tightly, and it seemed that she was shaking his arm to act coquettishly.

Qin Yanfeng pulled her into the room, spread out the rice paper, and handed the brush to him with a smile in his eyes.

Jiang Xian was unwilling, "...I can't draw well."

"Ma'am, why don't you underestimate yourself? If you really can't draw well, my younger brother won't often ask you for advice."

Jiang Xian stood by the table and sighed, "I can only use charcoal pencils."

Qin Yanfeng immediately recruited a maid and asked her to prepare the charcoal sticks that Jiang Xian often used.

While waiting, Qin Yanfeng smiled and said, "I have never held a pen during my illness, so today I will draw a picture and give it to my wife. I am afraid that my skills are rusty. I hope my wife will not dislike her."

Jiang Xian didn't want to please him, so she nodded, "No."

"What would Madam want me to draw?"

"...Little hairy dumpling?"

"it is good."

When Qin Yanfeng was not stupid, he was full of knowledge in Wuwen and ink, and everyone praised him for his paintings.He adjusts the water and grinds it, with a leisurely posture, and draws the outline on the paper with a pen.The ink is smudged, the outline is gradually becoming clearer, and a few strokes have already depicted the naive appearance of a puppy.

Jiang Xian was curious, and was gradually attracted by his chic and unrestrained painting techniques, fascinated by him.

After half a stick of incense time, a dog appeared on the paper, but the eyes were missing.

"Ma'am, put your eyes on it."

Qin Yanfeng handed her the Langhao pen backhand.

Jiang Xian was taken aback, and pointed to her nose, "Me? No, no, no, I don't care what to do. Maybe I'll ruin this painting."

Qin Yanfeng didn't care, he insisted on it.Jiang Xian had no choice but to take the brush and poked the dog's eye socket twice.

Luckily for her, Mo Se didn't faint, and the little Mao Tuanzi suddenly came to life with the blessing of his eyes.

Then Qin Yanfeng asked her to write an inscription.

Now Jiang Xian really can't do it anymore, holding the pen and throwing it, neither writing nor writing, wrinkling her nose, "My handwriting is ugly."

"What does it matter? I'll teach you how to write." As soon as Qin Yanfeng finished speaking, he stepped forward, and the tall and tall figure wrapped Jiang Xian half in his arms. In the thirteen corners of the twelfth lunar month in the 32nd year of Qing Dynasty, Yu Yuanya gave it to his wife."

Jiang Xian pressed her back against his chest, as if she could feel the scorching temperature.Following Qin Yanfeng's movements with his wrist, he drew shades of running script next to the painting.

Jiang Xian lost his mind for a moment.

She raised her eyes, and through the square window outside the study, she saw the fine snow between the branches of dead trees blown by the winter wind, reflecting the winter day, the sun was shining brightly, the years were quiet and illusory like a dream.

(End of this chapter)