---The orchids are fragrant, the past is like smoke, but it is finally yesterday! ---
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Lanxi Garden
Falling orchids are like snow, quiet and lonely, enjoying the glory of a lifetime, but admiring it alone.
On the carved red sandalwood table, a ten-foot-long piece of white silk paper was spread out. The man lightly dipped his hand in black ink and stroked the pen. With a few strokes, the original white silk paper took shape.
Holding your breath and concentrating, when you put down the pen and apply the colors, you use very careful movements to outline the eyebrows and other details of the characters in the painting. In an instant, a picture is flying into the orchids, and a woman in an elegant and simple gauze skirt jumps wonderfully on the paper, magically
It has both form and beautiful rhyme.
Wanyanche put down the brush in his hand and gently dried the wet ink on the paper. His movements were extremely caring. He picked up the painting with a slightly satisfied smile and hung it on the screen. He took a few steps away and looked up and down carefully.
After a while, the eagle's eyes showed a long-lost warmth, as if the person in the painting was right in front of him, looking at him with a shy smile on the orchids, which made him obsessed for a while.
Turning around, Wanyan Che returned to the case again and picked up the pen to draw the next picture.
However, when Wanyanche was about to draw the figures in the tenth painting, his mind went blank. The hand holding the pen trembled slightly, becoming more violent, and his breathing became suffocated.
When he raised his eagle eyes slightly and looked at the several paintings on the screen, his face suddenly became stunned.
Ding- -
The black ink on the tip of Lang Hao's pen fell into the paper. After the drop of ink fell, the originally formed form became even more blurred and stained.
"Xiyan--how could this happen!" Wanyanche looked nervous. Seeing the filthy face of the character in the painting, his heart ached. He immediately put down his pen and inkstone and stretched out his sleeves to wipe it away.
However, it was all in vain, as the ink stains on the drawing paper became more and more smudged as he applied them, and the smudged and muddy they became. Wanyan Chejun's face suddenly turned pale, but he still wiped it unwillingly.
Gradually, his vision blurred, and warm liquid dripped onto the paper, until the figures in the painting turned into black shadows amid the falling orchids, disappearing into the paper and sinking into the black ink.
Just like them now, his selfishness became the reason for her to never leave him. Things are still there, but people are gone. Even if you want to, you can't catch him.
Seeing this broken painting, Wanyan Che felt as if his chest had been stabbed horizontally and vertically by several bright blades. The pain was so painful that he couldn't even cry out.
next moment!
"ah- -"
"boom- -"
The man's wailing roar came as expected, accompanied by the sound of him gasping and falling to the ground under the rosewood table. It resounded through the house and shook the eardrums. It was sudden and terrifying, like an eagle crying with blood and tears.
"Xiyan, Xiyan, I was wrong, I was really wrong - -" Wanyanche staggered to the screen and took out the painting he had just drawn, holding it in his arms, and burst out with shameful words.
, his voice was hoarse and full of regret, without the usual pride in front of others, but with the fear of being in the dark.
He was so afraid that Xi Yan would be right in front of him like the painting just now, but then suddenly disappear, not even bothering to hear his last trace of regret.
"Xiyan, come back, I am still your Che, your Che alone, 'When the peach blooms, its flowers shine, and when the son returns, he will be suitable for his family.' Didn't you say this yourself? I remember it all.
Yes, why did you forget?"
Wanyan Cheyi leaned against the emerald green screen and murmured regrets. The man who was not easy to shed tears fell silently. It was a cry of regret that hurt to the bones and hurt the heart. However, no one responded.
There was only the sound of the painting in Wanyanche's arms being torn to pieces by him, which seemed strange and ironic in this quiet house, seeming to be mocking his late repentance, and also weeping and grieving with him.
The lonely room and pavilion, holding the painting and regretting it, the fragrance of orchids bursting out, the past is like smoke, but it will finally become yesterday!
Suddenly, Wanyan Che seemed to have thought of something, her eagle eyes were suddenly startled, she put the painting in her hand safely, stood up quickly, and walked out of the stable.
With a neigh from the stable, the tall black horse, controlled by Wanyan Che, ran towards the direction of Tianyin Mansion.