"Actually, I’m not very good at painting. You could find a better artist to paint for you," she said diplomatically.
"If I needed that, do you think I wouldn’t have said so?" he shot her a ’you’re an idiot’ look.
His insistence on having her paint was because of its uniqueness.
What exactly was unique about it, he couldn’t say, but it was indeed very unique.
Seeing An Ruo still hesitant, he struck a pose, giving her no time to think, "Start painting. If it’s good, I’ll reward you."
After thinking for a moment, An Ruo asked, "If it’s good, can I choose my own reward?"
Tang Yuchen suddenly became interested; this was the first time she had ever asked him for anything.
"Of course, no problem," he replied, a slight smile curling at his lips, his dark eyes bright. An Ruo felt a stir in her heart and began to paint, her head bowed.
She thought she couldn’t capture Tang Yuchen’s likeness, but as soon as the brush touched the canvas, she realized how deeply she remembered his features.
So deeply that she didn’t even need to look at his face to draw him.
He had a pair of dark, bright phoenix eyes, always with a thin layer of ice covering them, cold and distant, and an indifference to the world hidden in their depths.
Black, neatly shaped eyebrows, a high nose bridge, facial contours as bold and complex as a sculpture, seductive yet indifferent lips, and thick hair always meticulously groomed...
This man was her husband, the calamity of her life.
She hated him, loathed him, didn’t want to remember him. Yet, he had forcefully invaded her world, hurt her, and destroyed her, making the memory of his face deeply etched in her mind, likely unforgettable for a lifetime.
Perhaps her hatred for him would bury deep in her heart, like an incurable disease, never to be released.
An Ruo lowered her eyes; she did not look up at him, immersed in her thoughts, yet her brush moved divinely.
Tang Yuchen watched her with a complex look in his profound eyes, dark and unreadable.
The bedroom was quiet, with only the scratching sound of the pencil on paper, both of them lost in their thoughts. At that moment, time seemed to flow like water, quickly passing by.
Half an hour later, An Ruo put down her pencil, staring at the sketch on the paper somewhat dazedly.
Why had she drawn him smiling?
Shaking off the strange thoughts in her mind, she handed over the sketch to Tang Yuchen. The man took it, and his lips curved into a shallow smile upon observing it.
"Not bad," he genuinely praised her. Although he was not an expert in painting, his ability to appreciate art was quite extraordinary.
An Ruo had captured the charm in his eyes and the almost imperceptible hint of a smile at the corner of his lips—perhaps not exactly a smile, just a curvature.
She depicted his coldness, mystery, indifference, loneliness, and nobility—all of it. One could tell the height of her skill with just one look.
Perhaps it wasn’t that her painting skills were exceptional, but rather that she was too familiar with this version of him...
"What reward would you like?" the man asked her, looking up with a smile.
Even though An Ruo was standing and he was sitting, she felt as if he were looking down on her.
She struggled internally about whether to plead on Yun Feixue’s behalf at this moment, thinking an opportunity missed might not come again and Yun Feixue could be convicted if she delayed.
Speak, there’s nothing to hesitate about.
Unfortunately, her ringtone interrupted her just as she was about to speak.
An Ruo picked up the phone, surprised to see the familiar number of the An Family; she couldn’t understand why they would call her.