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

Miaobi didn't refute. She slowly walked to Bai Zhou's side, glanced at him a few times, and then gently patted his head.

"How did this corner break off?"

Ok?

Xi's eyes widened in surprise.

You just asked that?

"Ah, I made a big mistake before, my second uncle broke the corner of my hair."

Bai Zhou touched the broken left corner with embarrassment.

Second uncle? What kind of second uncle would be so cruel to his nephew?

Xi also saw surprise in Miaobi's eyes.

She doesn't know either. That's true, after all, it's just a kid's family matter.

"Your father..."

“My father passed away from illness, and now my second uncle is in charge. He said he would hand over the family headship to me when I come of age.”

Miaobi frowned, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just sighed.

It's just another power struggle among mortals.

So, the kid was kicked out by his second uncle? But, abandoned by his own family... why can he still laugh?

The artist didn't want to get involved in this kind of thing, and she also felt that she couldn't control it.

"Well, going with Eleven, although we'd have to put up with her terrible temper, is still a safe option."

The artist's words made him want to draw his sword and chop her down. Even though the little devil was perfectly at ease with her, she spoke as if she had some terrible temper.

"Yes! The gentleman is so good to me!"

"The teacher not only saved me, but also taught me how to paint. He also taught me many principles..."

Upon hearing Miao Bi mention the painter, Bai Zhou's expression instantly became exceptionally bright, and even his tone became cheerful. His little mouth kept "dududu" talking, and all the words he uttered were praises of the painter.

"...?"

Miao Bi looked at her younger sister, who was being praised so highly, with a strange expression.

She believed she understood the artist's skill better than Bai Zhou did. She could understand every word Bai Zhou said, yet she couldn't see any of the characteristics described in the artist.

Is this willful, withdrawn, and inexplicably arrogant guy really as gentle, understanding, and kind as he claims?

Wow!

Xi's ears are red.

"Ahem. Time to go."

The artist coughed lightly, then turned and left first.

If this kid keeps talking about it, it'll become a black mark on my past. If I ever get invited to a party again, he'll definitely bring it up as a joke.

"Oh, Mr. Magic Pen, until we meet again."

"Until we meet again."

Seeing that the painter had already left, Bai Zhou hurriedly took his leave from Miao Bi and then ran quickly towards the painter.

"This is really..."

Miao Bi's gaze towards Xi revealed a deep sense of joy.

but……

Is it really okay for these two to be together?

"Sir, you and Master Miaobi are actually related! Master Miaobi never mentioned family when he taught me to read."

"Sir, why don't you talk to Mr. Miaobi more? It's been so long since you've seen your family, shouldn't you have a chat?"

"Sir, do you and Mr. Miaobi have any other relatives?"

"Sir... Waaah... Sir, please don't hit me, I know I was wrong!"

Where did you go wrong?

The artist, brush in hand, stared at the daytime crowd crouching in fear.

This brat, all she talks about is "Mr. Magic Pen" and "Mr. Magic Pen." If she likes that calligrapher so much, why didn't she just follow him? She knew him anyway, and she wouldn't have been afraid of being swindled out of her money and thrown into the river again. Why bother following her and putting up with her awful temper?

"me……"

Seeing Bai Zhou's stammering, the painter picked up his brush.

This kid clearly didn't know what to say to appease her anger and was trying to come up with an excuse.

"I shouldn't have..."

"Shouldn't what?"

Press him a little harder, until he can't say anything, and then...

"I shouldn't have wasted your time by making you take me to listen to storytelling. Sir, please hit me!"

"..."

Have we changed the subject?

It seems that guy holds a high place in his heart.

For some reason, the painter suddenly lost interest in sketching and only wanted to go back and paint a few pictures to vent his frustration.

"gone."

"Oh, sir, why are you going this way? That's the way back."

I'm tired.

"Oh."

"Sir, what would you like to eat for lunch?"

"...I'm not eating anymore."

"That won't do. You must... um... even if you hit me, you still have to eat lunch."

"If you faint from exhaustion again, I really don't know what to do, sir. Please listen to me and have lunch."

"Tsk..."

"Sir, why did you go back again?"

"Let's go on a field trip."

"what……"

"What? Hurry up."

"Oh! Wait for me, sir!"

Returning to the Nine Silver Scales River, the Ink River Dotted with Snow

"Sir, this is the lower reaches of the Silverscale River. I've heard there's a beautiful waterfall upstream. Would you like to go see it?"

Bai Zhou pointed to the white ribbon reflecting the silver light in front of him and asked the painter beside him who was looking at the scenery.

Fall?

The artist has seen many waterfalls.

Among them are the magnificent sights of white waterfalls cascading from the sky, half of which rival the Milky Way in their flow; and the majestic power of clouds locking the peaks, with the moon carved out of the blue sky.

The waterfall here...

She glanced at the daytime.

"To be honest, I've never seen a waterfall before. Sir, what are waterfalls like? Are they beautiful?"

Those eyes were full of expectation.

"Go and see for yourself, and you will know."

If the waterfall here is just a slightly higher flow of water, without any beauty whatsoever, she would throw the little devil into the painting to show him what a real waterfall is.

"Great! Sir, let's go quickly!"

The upstream was neither too far nor too near. After walking for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the painter saw the silver waterfall in the distance.

From afar to near, it is: a waterfall cascades straight down from the void, thunder rushes into the river without pause.

From top to bottom, Fang Nai: Time and history fly like a white ribbon, a line breaks the green of the mountains.

"Paper, pen."

As soon as the painter began to speak, paper and brush were placed in front of him, along with ink and inkstone. Bai Zhou stood quietly and expectantly by his side, waiting for the painter to begin.

A few strokes outline a scene like brocade, and a few dots of ink depict the feelings in one's heart.

With a brush in hand, interest and emotion arise, and even the painter himself cannot stop.

It was done in one go, flowing smoothly like clouds and water.

After the last stroke was completed, the artist slowly exhaled.

"Sir, your painting is so beautiful!"

The artist heard the child's praise from beside him, but he did not respond.

It's not that I don't want to, but that I can't.

The painter raised his hand, pressed down on his hair, and used his height to barely stand. He gasped for breath a few times under Bai Zhou's questioning gaze before he regained feeling in his body.

"Sir, are you tired? Please sit down and rest for a while."

A worried voice rang out during the day, and the artist gently shook his head.

"It's just that I was too serious and suddenly relaxed, which caused me to lose energy for a while."

The little girl is so thin and weak, yet she was able to carry that bamboo box all the way here. How could she possibly collapse just because she painted a picture?