I am the old, fiery-faced man from the senior department.

An embarrassed laugh came from the side.

What is this? Is it mockery?

"..."

Yeah.

She flipped the painting that was underneath up and slapped it on his face.

"What did you understand?"

If the little brat can't explain it, she'll let him experience it for himself and see what's depicted in the drawing.

The person was small, and when the painting was held up, it completely covered his head. She could only see her painting swaying left and right along with the tuft of hair on his head, as if the viewer was indeed seriously appreciating the painting.

"what!"

He put down the painting, a look of surprise in his eyes.

She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

Could it be? Did he really see something?

"Sir! What a huge mountain!"

"That's it?"

She frowned.

"Uh...and there's Jiehu Lake, the water there is so clear and cool."

"That's it?"

She gripped the pen tightly.

"Uh……"

He looked down again, then looked up as if suddenly realizing something.

"Wow, there's such a fat worm here. Sir, would you prefer it roasted or stewed? Roasted ones are crispier, while stewed ones are more flavorful."

I think it would be better to roast or stew you.

Without a word, she coldly snatched the painting away.

That brat is such a nuisance.

"Sir, are you still going to paint? May I continue watching?"

The little devil saw her pick up the pen again and approached her with a smile.

"..."

You don't understand what she's painting, so what's the fun in watching her paint?

Oh, he didn't even look at it, then it's fine.

The artist didn't bother with him, and was just thinking about what to paint next.

"..."

Ok?

Why is there no movement?

What is he looking at?

Her eyelids opened, and her ruby-like eyes flickered slightly, revealing the appearance of the little devil.

This time he was quite energetic, intently watching something.

But whatever he was looking at, it certainly wasn't her canvas.

Ah, now that I think about it, I really want to punch him.

"Sir, these flowers are so beautiful."

flower?

She looked in the direction the little devil was looking.

It was the flower she had been observing before, and it had bloomed at some point.

The flowers are beautiful and eye-catching.

She was saying something back then.

Hmm, I'll paint a flower.

■

"Sir, sir?"

The artist heard a call in his ear. The boy's voice was clear and melodious, like the sound of a wind chime in the breeze.

"What's all this noise about?"

It seemed that his inspiration had been interrupted, which made the artist look somewhat displeased.

"Sir, the flowers have withered."

The little devil's voice was very soft, with a hint of sadness in it.

But the sound was like thunder to her ears.

When did these flowers...wither?

She had been observing the flower the whole time, so why, why didn't she notice it?

Do not……

Perhaps, it wasn't that she didn't notice.

But...

She was probably... lost in thought.

She just fell asleep.

"What time is it now?"

The artist's voice trembled slightly.

"Sir, it's just past midnight, what's wrong?"

"It's just... midnight."

Fortunately.

Only half an hour had passed.

"Sir, would you like to take a break? You must be feeling unwell from drawing all this time."

Seemingly worried about her condition, the little devil dropped the flowers to check on her.

This brat... can't she just stand still and talk to me properly? She keeps swaying around, it's so annoying.

The painter was so dizzy from being shaken that he picked up his brush and went to hit him.

"You... sob..."

The stars and moon before my eyes vanished into darkness in an instant.

With unwavering dedication, the future is promising.

"..."

The artist woke up.

She slept so soundly that her body felt a little weak.

Beneath him was a straw mat, the one the little devil always used.

I turned my head slightly, and a faint earthy smell wafted from the grass beside me.

Looking further ahead, the little devil was sitting beside her, staring blankly at something with a pained expression. Seeing her move, the little devil immediately moved closer.

"Sir! You're finally awake."

The little devil's voice was choked with emotion.

She propped herself up on her arms to get up, and the little devil quickly came over to help her.

"How long has it been?"

Judging from the little devil's appearance, she probably hadn't slept for long.

"You've been asleep for two days, sir! There aren't even three fish left in the pot!"

"..."

The artist felt his fist harden.

So, her being unconscious is less of a concern than a few fish?

"Ah, the fish is still in the pot. Sir, please wait a moment, I'll go get you some fish soup!"

The little devil ran away in a hurry.

The painter leaned against a bamboo box he had somehow acquired, observing the surrounding environment.

Her easel was still in the same place, proving that the little devil hadn't taken her anywhere else.

The sky was getting dark; it must have been past noon, as more clouds had gathered and obscured the sunlight.

"Sir! The fish soup is here. It's a little hot, please drink it slowly."

The little devil ran over carrying a bowl of soup with fish and handed over a pair of bamboo chopsticks.

"..."

The chopsticks landed on my clothes, but thankfully I didn't get any oil on them.

The artist's expression was rather unpleasant.