As Ji Yingxin expected, Yinzhen's anger was annoyed and angry, angry, angry, not only Ji Yingxin's suppression of Hongpan, but more importantly, he found that his mind was guessed clearly by Ji Yingxin.

  From the very beginning, when he gave names to Hongpan and Yilha, he realized that Ji Yingxin's ability to control the backyard was too strong, and such a strong control made Yinzhen feel a little uneasy, the backyard can be controlled by Fujin, but it can't be like an iron bucket, otherwise, his master will lose his meaning.

  The existence of Fujin is for the master to deal with the backyard, not to completely control the backyard, so Yinzhen started from the Song family, because only the Song family can really shake the foundation of Ji Yingxin's control of the backyard.

  And Ji Yingxin also realized this, knowing that she didn't want to be too involved with the Song family and Hongpan, so Ji Yingxin used Bingjing to suppress Hongpan and raise Honghui's reputation.

  Originally, these were all things that Yinzhen enjoyed and liked to see, but when Ji Yingxin suppressed Hongpan in front of him, Yinzhen found that he was not happy in his heart, and what he was unhappy about was not Ji Yingxin's suppression, but the plausible mutual calculation between the two people.

  I don't know why, such a normal reaction made him feel a frizz in his heart for no reason, and this kind of frizz came from nowhere, which always made him feel that between him and Ji Yingxin, it shouldn't be like this.

  But if he wants to tell what the two people should be like, but he can't say it, that feeling is very strange, and the strangeness makes him a little afraid to think about it, so he gets angry, regardless of Fu Jin's face, and throws his hand away on a day like the fifteenth.

  However, this kind of anger has no effect on inner peace, sitting in the study, Yinzhen's brows are tightly locked, like a towering mountain, unable to stretch out for a long time, and an indescribable irritability in his heart is wantonly raging in his chest.

  Boom!

  Yinzhen didn't hold back, and smashed his fist on the cabinet on the side, with a bang, the cabinet shook, and a painting scroll on it fell to the ground with a chirp and smashed at Yinzhen's feet.

  Yin Zhen didn't plan to pay attention to it, he didn't want to, his eyes swept on the scroll, and a familiar and unfamiliar face suddenly appeared in front of him, only to see that the scroll was very well preserved, but, because it had not been opened for a while, it felt somewhat old.

  However, what really makes Yinzhen care is not this scroll, but the people on this scroll.

  I saw a woman wearing a Hanfu Confucian skirt on the best painting paper, a light blue Confucian skirt like a cloudless clear sky, fresh and elegant, a green silk hanging down, casually tied a bun. The scattered strands of pearls are strung together as a headband, dotted between a green silk, like a sporadic flickering in the sky, the hair on the temples hangs softly, and a hollow gold hairpin is inserted on the head, decorated with scattered red jade, which is like a shadow in the green silk.

  Although she is wearing a Confucian skirt, the woman in the painting does not sit or stand like the average lady, but sits casually on the soft carpet, and around the fine plush carpet, a white tiger skin sleeve is placed casually aside, and the woman in the painting does not seem to care at all.

  In addition to this rare and precious ornament, there are more things scattered on the ground that do not match the identity of the person in the painting, paper, bamboo silk, fine thread, paste, pen and ink, and various tools are placed at random.

  A boudoir woman from everyone's background, like a craftsman, sat on the ground at will to make paper kites, such a scene, spread out, I don't know how many people's jaws were shocked, but what attracted Yinzhen more was not the matter of making paper kites, but the person in the painting.

  Through the brushstrokes on the painting, Yinzhen can clearly see the style of the person in the painting when he makes a paper kite, just like a female fighter on the battlefield, with a solemn expression, shining eyes as if containing the stars and the sea, no matter how brilliant the light, it will look dwarfed in front of such a pair of eyes, Yinzhen can imagine how high-spirited the person in the painting is when he is making a paper kite, and even the corner of the robe may have a bit of cheerful atmosphere.

  Looking at such a painting, the originally restless flame in Yinzhen's heart was silently extinguished, only to see him involuntarily stretch out his hand, stroking the delicate picture quality, the moment his fingertips swept over the painting paper, as if touching the person in the painting, touching the softness of the other party's cheeks, the fineness of the green silk, the skeleton of the paper kite, and even a trace of ink that has not dried wet, as if they all appeared on a small finger.

  Holding this painting, Yinzhen didn't know how long he was stunned, maybe it was because the lights were dimming, Yinzhen suddenly came back to his senses, as if he had been struck by lightning, his pupils were dilated, and he looked at the words in his hand, as if it was a hot charcoal fire, which made him subconsciously want to throw it out, but I don't know why, when he thought like this, he grabbed the painting shaft in his hand more tightly, as if even if it was a hot skin, he could never let go.

  "What the hell is going on? When did you draw this painting? Why, did the master paint Fujin like this? Yin Zhen looked at the painting in his hand in confusion, looking at Ji Yingxin in the painting, his heart was beating like a rhythmic train, and he couldn't stop.

  Painting a portrait of Ji Yingxin is not an unacceptable thing for Yinzhen, but what makes him confused is the feeling of painting this painting.

  To say that this painting is a masterpiece that is difficult in the world is nonsense, but the feeling conveyed from this painting cannot be deceived, and anyone who sees this painting can feel the strong affection of the person who painted the painting.

  I don't know what to do, go deep, the living can die, and the dead can live. Those who are born and cannot be resurrected, and those who die and cannot be resurrected are not lovely.

  Such a strong feeling, there is no need for any words to elaborate, just a glance, it is clear, clear, and Yinzhen can also see that this painting is his own handwriting, once himself, is he so fond of Fujin? Why, but I can't remember what happened to me?

  "Su Peisheng!" Yin Zhen suddenly put away the portrait in his hand, and Goldman Sachs shouted.