"I didn't do anything."
Qiao Xi felt feverish all over, the sketch flashing in her mind.
It was a figure drawing.
The woman's facial features were blurred, yet her figure was graceful, with not a stitch of clothing. The lines were solidly drawn, with even the details meticulously crafted, clearly a labor of passion. The female form struck her vision directly and without reservation.
The woman in the drawing posed seductively.
Oozing allure.
It was indistinguishable whether it was a statue or a real person. If it were a real person, she might have felt a tinge of jealousy, even though figure drawing was a necessary skill to learn.
But why was such a drawing in the Huo Family's studio?
"Aunt Qian, has Mr. Huo ever studied painting?" Qiao Xi asked curiously.
