That pen was given to her by her grandfather.
When she was very young. She couldn't quite remember whether it was when she was four or five, or six or seven years old. All she remembered was a gloomy evening, right before a storm was about to hit, when her grandfather returned home covered in dirt.
He often went into the mountains to gather herbs, but he had never been so disheveled before. Moreover, on that day, Deng Qingjiang also returned to Siyang Village, apparently for something to do with a marriage proposal, and had a big fight with her grandfather, so Chiang Xiao remembered that day quite clearly.
After returning home, her grandfather quietly took out a pen from his herb bag and gave it to her.
"Our Little Little is destined to study and enjoy a life of privilege in the city, so this pen is most fitting for you," her grandfather said as he patted her head.
That evening, she played with the pen until she fell asleep in a daze, only to wake up the next day and discover that the pen was gone. Since she was still so young and the pen was neither edible nor a toy, she quickly forgot about it. When her grandfather asked, she casually mentioned that it was lost.
It was only when she began to learn painting that one day, the pen suddenly reappeared in her hand, and the paintings she created with it possessed magical qualities. Only then did she realize that her grandfather had given her an Exotic Treasure.
At first, she was very careful when Deng Qingjiang asked her to paint, using the pen sparingly and keeping the secret well guarded. But then, Deng Qingjiang deceived her by feigning concern for her aunt's poor health, coaxing her into gradually lowering her guard and revealing more and more until he finally learned the truth about the Exotic Treasure in her possession.
After using her to the point of exhaustion, he heartlessly sold her to a secret civilian research facility, where they experimented on her.
When those people came to catch her, she fled to the top floor, where they cornered her, and in the struggle, she was pushed off the rooftop.
Now that she had been reborn, had the pen also returned with her?
If she truly still possessed that pen, could she use it now? Or would she have to wait until she was seventeen and started painting again for it to reemerge?
But she already knew how to paint now.
In her past life, her paintings were internationally famous—
even though the fame was all usurped by that woman, Ye Wanqing.
If she had that pen, she would be even more powerful! If she had that pen, perhaps her grandmother wouldn't have had to die!
The thought incited such unrest within her that Chiang Xiao struggled to sit up again, raised her right hand, spread her palm open, and the shape of the pen flashed through her mind.
After so many years, she had practiced the act of producing the pen until it became second nature.
In truth, it was just a matter of thought.
In her delicate palm, a black pen suddenly appeared.
It was the size of a pencil but enveloped in a deep black, within which seemed to flow faint starlight, subtly flickering. The tip of the pen was slightly bent, able to be firm or flexible at her will.
Holding the pen, Chiang Xiao breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, it was still here!
In her previous life, she had been tricked by Deng Qingjiang, who dictated the content of her later works with the pen to sell at high prices. In reality, she never fully understood the pen's use.
Fortunately, with her second chance, she would not allow those scoundrels to benefit from the pen ever again in this life! She would make good use of the pen and would not reveal its secret so easily anymore.
"Don't block my way, I'm going to check on Little Little. If she really came into contact with something dirty, I'll invite the Fairy to come tomorrow! Otherwise, what if she brings disaster upon the Chiang Family?"
Ho Laidi's voice was drawing near.
It seemed that her grandparents couldn't stop her after all.
Chiang Xiao suddenly came up with an idea and was about to start drawing something in haste with the pen when her hand began to tremble, holding the pen, and with a whoosh, the pen vanished into her palm again.