"What are you doing here? Again, don't do anything that isn't relevant to the task. ”

Baza Hei didn't understand what Ding Bao was doing, and took the trouble to remind him.

"I have my own plans, I don't know how to compare."

Baza Black stopped talking.

If the time is up, Ding Bao has not completed the task, and it has a way to punish her.

There's no rush now, there's still more time.

Cen Yao came back with a kettle.

Seeing that Ding Bao had rolled up his sleeves and sat in front of the gray servant's table, he revealed two white jade arms like lotus roots, slender and delicate, and a piece of crumpled yellow paper was laid out of nowhere in front of him.

This paper is for toileting.

Now it is regarded as a place for Ding Bao to wield ink.

"Can you grind?"

Ding Bao picked up the brush and looked at Cen Yao.

The latter nodded, stood beside Ding Bao, and bowed his head to help her study ink.

"Sister is going to paint?"

Cen Yao opened his mouth, and he could just see Ding Bao's hair spin when he lowered his eyes, his black hair was tied up by a red rope and hung down behind his back, without fine makeup, and the fine fluff on his forehead hung quietly on his ears.

Cen Yao's gaze stayed on Ding Bao's long hair, and along the long hair, he saw that the woman had a pair of small and white ears, the ears were like jade, and there was a small hole on it, which looked very tender.

Under disguise, the man's Adam's apple moved slightly.

Ding Bao was accustomed to that shadowy gaze, and said naturally.

"Well, if you have nothing to do, find something to do."

While speaking, Ding Bao dipped his pen in some thick ink, and after resting for a while, he put the pen on the yellow paper.

The yellow paper absorbs ink and is extremely easy to blur, even if Ding Bao is already finely outlined, the lines drawn are still a mess.

Cen Yao looked at her and frowned, lowered her eyes to look at Ding Bao, but saw that she didn't care, she was still painting comfortably, and she was still happy to do it no matter that the characters in her pen had become a mess.

Half an hour later, ink-soaked yellow paper seeped onto the table.

Ding Bao put down the pen and nodded with satisfaction.

The facial features of the person in the painting are all confused, and the appearance is unrecognizable, and it is vaguely visible, it is a young man.

"Hang it out and hang it out."

"Who did my sister draw?"

Ding Bao didn't speak, just pursed his red lips and smiled slightly, his eyes showing a little helplessness and nostalgia.

She didn't answer, but asked rhetorically.

"Su Sleeve, do you have a crush?"

One was sitting, the other was standing, facing one side, and Ding Bao couldn't see the gloom in Cen Yao's eyes.

"Slaves don't. So, the person my sister painted is the person she likes? ”

Ding Bao smiled, did not nod, and did not shake his head.

She's just laughing.

Raising his eyes to look into the distance, he held his pink cheek with one hand, as if he was recalling something.

"You and I have fallen to this point, and there is nothing to hide. He is indeed the one I love. ”

There was a long dead silence.

Ding Bao spoke again, covering the painting with his bare hands, and murmured softly.

"Before I entered the palace, I fell in love with him."

Cen Yao looked away silently, as if he had no interest in Ding Bao's past love history.

I heard the woman continue to chatter.

"It's funny that I've liked someone for years, and they don't know it. I'm afraid that if he dies, he won't know. ”

The woman's voice was soft, muttering in a low voice, with some self-deprecation and helplessness, but there was no self-pity, as if, she just said such a sentence casually, not to others, but to herself.

Cen Yao only felt that this woman's voice was low and soft, like a small brush constantly stirring in his heart, which made him upset and impatient.