As if something was calling, he walked involuntarily towards the small garden.

The door opens with a flick......

The room was so large that Xiao Yuan didn't even dare to breathe hard, because even his breath had an echo.

The old fireplace is decorated with intricate baroque patterns, and there are many unfinished landscapes and still lifes, large and small, scattered on the side, and a thick layer of dust falls on the scattered easels and dried oil paints.

The tables and chairs were covered with white cloths, and the snow-white cotton cloth had now turned gray, like boiling time into a thick cup of tea and spilling it on it.

The large shelves placed in the center of the room are also covered with white cloth, and they are two or three meters in diameter.

Xiang Xiaoyuan pinched the corner of the white cloth and pulled it down hard, and a huge oil painting appeared in front of him with the flying dust.

In an instant, the garden was conquered by its beauty.

In the painting, a girl in an ancient Greek white dress is stepping on the waves, her clothes are wet by the sea, and the layers of folds outline the graceful curves of the girl, her long, thick hair like waves is blown by the sea breeze, and the strange thing is that her face is blank and unfinished.

The painter uses the brushstrokes of classical oil painting to depict a girl as pure as an angel.

The gorgeous blue on the canvas was projected into Xiaoyuan's clear eyes, and she felt confused, and couldn't help but reach out and touch the corner of the girl's skirt in the painting.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a voice echoed faintly, gentle and old.

Xiang Xiaoyuan was startled and retracted his hand, looking back at the place where the voice came from.

At some point, an old lady sat on a chair behind her, she was wearing a dark green cheongsam, which was faintly embroidered with a pattern of flowers, noble and elegant, and her hair as white as snow was coiled behind her head.

I don't know weishenme, it's so close, but Xiaoyuan still can't see her face clearly, but I just think she's a gentle and kind person.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she asked again.

Xiang Xiaoyuan nodded, I don't know when she came in, but Xiaoyuan was not afraid, because this old grandmother had a warmth that made her feel at ease.

The old lady still maintained an elegant sitting posture and continued to say softly: "Shaoqi likes this painting very much, he paints it very carefully......"

Xiao Yuan looked around and widened his eyes in surprise: "He painted it?"

The old man nodded: "Shaoqi wants to be a painter, but he can't...... I watched him grow up, watched him cry, watched him laugh. There will never be a more sensible child on Shijie, he has given up too much for this family, he can't control his own destiny, the burden on his shoulders is too heavy, he will be exhausted......"

Xiang Xiaoyuan suddenly saw her face clearly, so beautiful, so loving, and the wrinkles on her face were like ripples on the calm sea, so generous and loving.

She smiled meaningfully: "Little girl, you ...... Can you help him?"

A gust of wind blew through the dust that blew Xiao Yuan's eyes, and when Xiao Yuan rubbed her eyes and opened them again, she was the only one left in the empty room, and the old man didn't know when he came or left.

Xiang Xiaoyuan stood there for a long time, the chair was covered with a white cloth, not even a trace of wrinkles, only the corners that fell to the ground were shaking slightly.

Was it a dream?

Only then did she come back to her senses and fled in a hurry.

She stumbled down the hallway, gasping for breath.

She wasn't scared in her heart, but that inexplicable fear accompanied her for a long time?

Until a melodious sound of the piano diverted her attention.