The fingers clinging to Pei Yu's shoulder stirred, and Shen Zhiyi watched the silhouette spreading out on the Xuan paper with ink and water, unable to keep from becoming lost in thought.
From the morning's rise to this midnight, it turned out he had been in the study all this time to paint her.
She lifted her head and blinked, "Is it for me after you finish painting?"
She could not think of any other reason.
"No, it's not for giving away," Pei Yu denied, sealing the unfinished painting back up and said softly, "It's for private collection."
Oddly enough, her cheeks flushed a little, and she dared not continue to ask, only curious, "Did you learn to paint?"
"I did for a while," he saw that she was willing to ask about personal matters, and Pei Yu had no intent to hide, "My dad liked it, and I learned it to please him."
Shen Zhiyi knew very little about that retired former head of Pei's, and wasn't really curious, her focus was on Pei Yu, "You paint very well."
"Want to learn?"
