You rascal, stop right there!

Ding dong…ding dong…

The chains on Han Miaoran's hands and feet made a series of noises where they collided.

He was locked under a well, in a small space only four or five meters wide.

Apart from a rope above that delivers food and meals every day, it is almost impossible to escape.

The man at the wellhead looked down at him, his eyes as blazing as torches, without a trace of pity.

"Tell me, where did you put that picture?"

Han Miaoran sneered and lowered his head in silence.

"Master Han, do you think that as long as you are still alive, you can paint this picture again?"

The man smiled grimly: "Haha, what if I cripple your right hand... What else can you do without this hand? As a painter, what's the use of losing your hand..."

Han Miaoran said sadly and sarcastically: "If I lose my right hand, I still have my left hand... Hehe... If I lose my hands, I still have my feet..."

The man was under the well, his face became increasingly haggard, and there was a feeling as if a light was extinguished between his messy black hair.

The people on the well mouth cursed: "Our master will not believe that the painting is of ordinary people. His Majesty dismissed all officials for this painting. How can this be an ordinary painting!"

"If you guys don't believe what Han said, then forget it..."

These words were spoken with absolute certainty, and his eyes were as sharp as a tempered knife despite his calmness.

The people at the top of the well thought it was absurd: This madman was not afraid of having his hands crippled or being tortured! Not a word he said could be believed.

He casually threw a piece of red-hot iron brand down and it landed on his back...

hiss--

……

That night.

I have seen fields full of starving people and piles of bones.

The rice, meat and vegetable people were beaten to pieces in public and slaughtered one by one.

Imprisonment and torture, more intense memory stimulation, plus mental depression.

White Pea had a high fever.

When he opened his eyes, he remembered all the memories about Han Miaoran.

Although his eyes were not cold, they seemed to have lost their previous ruffian temperament.

Ling Shumo met his eyes and felt that something was different.

The two people looked at each other.

Bai Wan just glanced at Ling Shumo, then looked at the roof, without saying a word.

Fifteen-year-old Han Miaoran paid the price for her innocence.

He angered the previous emperor with a painting, and his painting was coveted. However, he still managed to survive after going through so many hardships, which even he himself found incredible.

"Did Prime Minister Li embarrass you?" Ling Shumo gently placed a white towel on his forehead. "Fuck the birthday party. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Although he was once our master, he is indeed a traitor. Sooner or later, his power will be purged."

Ling Shumo learned that something was wrong with this man after he returned from the prime minister's banquet, so he hurried to the official residence of Daying Painting Academy.

That day, he saw a dazed body curled up on the ground. Not only was there sweat on its forehead, but it was also clinging to the foot of the bed tightly and refusing to let go.

Even in a feverish dream, this person was absolutely unwilling to hold anyone's hand and only wanted to grab things by himself.

The person's fingers were forcibly pried apart one by one, and he was forced to lie on the bed to rest.

I don't know what I'm holding on to...

After waking up, Bai Wan seemed a little confused and stayed still for a long time: "Zi Chen..."

"I'm here..." Ling Shumo responded lightly.

"Zi Chen..."

"I am here……"

Bai Wan raised her head and said something that was six years late:

"Brother Zichen, wait for me in the capital. When I draw the best picture in the world, I will definitely come to find you!"

"Of course, if I can't draw it, I will ask you for advice!"

……

There was a long silence.

Ling Shumo's eyes seemed to flash with some different expressions, and the temperature in his eyes became stronger and stronger: "Brother Yuebai, so you are back."

There is no need to say too much, everyone already understands this name.

Bai Wan smiled slightly.

His parents died when he was seven, he was dragged into hell by his mentor when he was twelve, and he was imprisoned at the age of fifteen, which led to his disability and amnesia...

It really came true what the fortune teller named Wutong said: the family was broken up, the body and mind were exhausted, and everything was shattered.

Ling Shumo had never seen this person smile so gently, without any trace of ruffian in his eyes.

Maybe, his brother Yuebai came back safely.

At this moment, the room suddenly felt a little sad.

Bai Wan did not tell Ling Shumo what happened at the birthday party, but only said that Prime Minister Li wanted to recruit him into his party, but he resisted and refused.

As for memories of the past, Bai Wan said that he had recalled the memories of the past three years, but he could not remember everything he experienced in the six months after he disappeared and left the capital.

These are obviously lies.

Ling Shumo wouldn't believe it, but he just let the man pass him the bowl of medicine and wanted to feed him.

The person on the other side shook his head and said he would do it himself.

He took the bowl of medicine and swallowed it in one gulp, as if it were free nectar.

"This medicine feels expensive once I take it. Is it from the Imperial Hospital? Is there any ginseng added?"

Ling Shumo couldn't help laughing: "If you have a fever, you don't need to eat ginseng."

"That's a loss!"

He smiled.

Bai Wan never regretted his decision to risk his life to paint a work of sorrow and anger and present it to the late emperor six years ago.

The only thing he regretted was that he didn't see Ling Shumo for the last time. He didn't fulfill the promise he made to those kids to see them again.

then,

I don’t know if it was to relieve the previous pain or seek comfort.

After drinking the medicine, Bai Wan raised her pale lips and said reluctantly, "Zi Chen, I suddenly want to bite you again, do you want to let me?"

As soon as these words were spoken, Ling Shumo's face turned red all of a sudden, and he didn't know where to put his hands or how to move his head.

"Ah..."

The kiss came unexpectedly on his lips.

Unlike the previous light kiss, this was a real kiss.

What is a kiss?

It is the damp heat on the tip of the tongue, the bitter taste of medicine, the devout intertwining, the fiery depiction of love.

After Bai Wan trembled and closed her eyes, between her lips and teeth...

It came six years late, bringing with it the lingering emotion of warm tears.

Heartache——

Back then, I thought I chose something more important than you. Will you blame me?