He Xiyan went back to her dormitory, still flushing slightly.
At this time, she was alone in the dormitory. All three of her roommates might have gone for dinner.
She sat at her desk, her crystal clear eyes blinking constantly.
After a while, she took out her picture book from the box as well as two more paintbrushes.
While writing, she wore a light smile around the corners of her mouth. The painting she drew of him was when he was reading just now. He sat on a red wooden chair with a book as thick as a dictionary on his leg.
He was serious and focused, as if the noise around him had no effect on him at all.
A very simple pencil sketch, but it took He Xiyan almost 40 minutes to complete. She carefully considered every line of the painting, for fear that it did not look alike and that it might not be able to show his temperament and charm.
'If Only I Could Make A Friend.'
