Qiao Xuanxuan didn't think too much about it.
"Indeed, she is the best friend, having such a tacit understanding that even the gifts we give are paintings," she thought.
Qiao Si's expression grew even colder.
This ambitious illegitimate daughter even knew that the old man liked paintings, and chose to give a painting just to please him.
When the scroll was slowly unfurled, Qiao Xuanxuan's face changed.
"Why is it the Autumn Bamboo Painting?"
Qiao Xuanxuan murmured to herself.
She had planned to give Grandpa the very painting she meticulously copied, the Autumn Bamboo Painting; she had drawn hundreds of copies, only to choose one she was satisfied with.
Yet the painting before her eyes was also a copy of the Autumn Bamboo Painting, and it was done much, much better than hers.
Now that Qianqian gave her painting first, it would be embarrassing for her to present hers later.
Why did this happen, why such a coincidence?
