When I woke up again, I found myself sitting in a huge rock pit.

It was like a natural hot spring bath, the water was light brown, the steaming mist was floating around me, and the air smelled of strange medicine, and I couldn't really see it when I looked out through the heavy mist.

I lowered my head and looked at my body, but fortunately it was not naked, only a white robe and undershirt, because it was soaked with water, it was close to my body, and the skin under the clothes was faintly visible.

Is this in a dream?

I suddenly remembered that when I drank the tonic on the first night, Ye Dingxi told me that I should not drink a drop of alcohol, and I must not lose consciousness, otherwise there will be serious consequences......

Judging from the current situation, my cliff is trapped in a dream, could it be because of the bowl of medicine that Mrs. Xu poured into the flower pot?!

But here's the problem...... Whose dream is this?

I don't know what happened to Ye Dingxi and them now, according to me, I am trapped, Bai Bingyang should be awake, so my remnants ......

The more I thought about it, the more flustered I became, how dare I delay, and dragged my heavy body to the pool.

But when I climbed up to the edge of the bath, I still couldn't see my surroundings clearly, and although the fog was constantly swimming, it could block my vision, and if I walked forward so rashly, I didn't know where it would go.

It was then that I suddenly heard a woman's chuckle.

Cluck.

It sounded clear and graceful, as if it was very young, not too far away from me.

I hesitated for a moment, then walked in the direction from which the voice came.

As I walked, the fog in front of me began to dissipate, and the sight became clearer and clearer, it turned out that it was surrounded by a courtyard, and the yard was full of plants and trees, and there were flowers, but there was no floral aroma.

Behind the seemingly cluttered vines were the interlocutory huts, about four or five rooms, with double-sided sliding doors, windows covered with pure white oiled paper, roof and wall panels made of logs, and a corridor paved with wooden planks under the porch, smooth and clean.

I hurried through the grass barefoot, hid behind the vines and listened carefully, and about found the room where the sound was coming from, and bent down the porch.

Crunch.

Step on your toes on the planks of the hallway

, making a slight noise.

I shrunk my neck in fright, clinging to the edge of the window, and walked even more cautiously, for fear of disturbing the dream, and I would never be able to go out again.

When I got to the room where the laughter had just come from, I noticed a gap under the window, so I quietly craned my neck to peek in.

in the room.

In front of a tall plain white three-fold screen, a woman with a beautiful figure was sitting quietly, from the back, her body was slender and tall, her dark green clothes were neat and obedient, and her long black hair hung down on her waist, loosely tied with a white silk ribbon.

She bowed her head slightly, facing the screen, her posture reverent and solemn.

Next to the woman, there are also some painting pens and porcelain plates with different watercolor paints.

Each small plate is only the size of a palm, with a pure white base, a circle of gilt gold patterns is simple and casual, and when you sweep it away, you can see about a dozen or twenty different colors neatly and side by side.

It's strange, how do these watercolor plates seem familiar?

I blinked, and then looked inside.

The woman kneeling as if the old monk was in a steady, did not move, the room was as quiet as a painting, and occasionally a wisp of breeze sneaked in, blowing up the broken hair hanging from the woman's sideburns, so that the painting accidentally became true.

Just when I felt that the back of my neck was a little sore, the woman's body moved slightly.

She crawled down slowly, her body soft and obedient to the floor, her forehead touched the ground, her arms stretched, her palms upward, as if she was saluting, and she got up and prostrated three more times before she slowly stopped, picked up a slender black brush from her hand, and walked towards the pure white screen with a black watercolor disk.

Is this woman going to paint?

Sure enough, she licked the ink with the pen, and without hesitation, she dropped a stroke on the white silk surface, the tip of the pen was lightly, and the wrist was turned, it seemed to be an ink flower blooming, and then the pen was hooked, but the flower was gone, and the shape was like a deer's antlers.

He's a master!

Only these two strokes, hearty and wanton, casual and free but extremely calm and powerful, although the woman's back looks young, but on painting skills are how many poor people in the dust and unreachable, this is a talent.

If she cooperates with the practice, maybe this woman will have a chance to become a painting spirit.

The painter of the spirit, with the body of a mortal, obtains the soul of the painting, the soul and the painting are blended together, the painting is as human, the meaning is with the painting, that is, to the more profound, the painting is shown, it can bring its own spiritual rhyme, leaping on the paper, like the illusion of reality.

The woman was very attentive when painting, and after a while a rough outline appeared on the screen, like some kind of spirit animal, the head was shaped like a deer and a sheep, the horns on both sides of the head were as proud as cedars, and although the body was only a few strokes, it could also be seen that it was heroic and mighty.

Squatting out the window and watching, I became obsessed with it, until the sound of hurried footsteps came from afar, and I panicked and crashed into the room.

Luckily, fortunately, I'm a dreamer, and I'm formless through walls.

The woman was completely unaware of my intrusion, but I accidentally touched the porcelain plate she had placed on the floor, and made a soft clicking sound, which alarmed her soul that had settled in the painting.

She stopped writing and turned her head slowly.

Scold!

I took a step back in fright, and with a shake of my body, I pushed the closed window and slammed it shut.

The woman frowned, looking at the closed window beside me, a little puzzled.

The frowning between the eyebrows, coupled with the face, made me feel even more frightened......

Mrs. Xu!!

How could it be her......

The painting girl in front of her is really Mrs. Xu when she was young, with a pair of Danfeng eyes, a glimmer of light like a star in her pupils, thin eyebrows and a high nose, thin lips slightly tightened, because she is too slender, the curvature of the jaw is also outlined by a pencil, and the arc is a little stiff.

But it's also a beauty.

Before that, I had only seen Mrs. Xu in a wheelchair, the eternally flat, expressionless face, long without the youthfulness and purity of the girl in front of me.

In addition, her mouth was cold as if she was chewing ice ballast, which was really different from the woman in front of her.

It seems that I broke into Mrs. Xu's dream, but at that time she was clearly sitting at the dinner table, how could I float into her dream?

As soon as I thought about it, I heard a knock at the door.

"Miss, the person who gave the dowry gift from the Xu family is here, and Madame asked you to go to the living room now to have a look. A voice like a silver bell came through the thin wooden door.