You rascal, stop right there!

However, the next day.

Ling Shumo discovered that Bai Wan was missing.

There was barely some warm body temperature and the lingering scent of ink on the bed.

He couldn't be found in the yard, and there was no one even in the study.

The wooden desk was fully equipped with pens, ink, paper, and inkstone. The cinnabar next to his ink seemed not to be pigment, but blood clots.

He stood there, his heart frantic and uneasy.

He had been busy with the art of painting on rice paper all day, and when he finally took a break, he disappeared.

Why is this person always causing trouble?

Ling Shumo, who couldn't find anyone for a long time, had no choice but to sit down quietly, picked up a pen and wrote some documents and put them on the desk.

At this time, A Yan rushed to him in a hurry.

"Academician Ling, Brother Bai...he went to the cliff behind the White Deer Cave Academy early in the morning."

"What was he doing on the cliff edge?"

Ling Shumo took a deep breath and forced himself to suppress the panic in his heart.

The cliffs behind the White Deer Cave Academy are several feet high, with mottled cliffs and reddish soil.

"do not know……"

A Yan really couldn't explain it, so he and Ling Shumo had to ride over on a white horse.

When they reached the edge of the cliff, they found that Bai Wan, dressed in a white robe, was standing in front of a wall, with his sleeves fluttering, standing alone in the world.

The wind blows and the shadow moves.

The grass and trees trembled slightly.

Bai Wan, also known as Han Miaoran, stands tall and straight like a pine tree, like a cold moon hanging in the grass.

He looked up, lost in thought at the entire cliff wall.

There was no trace of his former cynicism and rogue temperament on his handsome and elegant face.

Ling Shumo ran towards him, jumped off the white horse, and walked to the man.

"Abai——"

He wanted to grab the person, hug him, and grab him.

But he found that the other party was standing still, looking in one direction.

"Brother Bai was standing here half an hour ago, staring at this wall without moving. No matter how I called him, he ignored me. What was he looking at?"

A Yan asked in confusion.

"Ink waterfalls, mountains and rivers, gorges and dangerous peaks, he looks at the wild walls and paintings."

Ling Shumo smiled weakly, only to find that the other person's face seemed a little pale.

"Hey, what are you doing, sir?"

A Yan watched Ling Shumo sitting on the ground and also stared at the cliff wall motionlessly.

"Could you please bring me two basins filled with ink, along with the four writing tools and the wooden barrel?"

Ling Shumo's lips slightly opened with a wry smile.

"what?!"

Han Miaoran ten years ago was so bizarre and incomprehensible.

During the three years he became the court painter, he was so silent and out of tune with everyone.

Only him...

Only Ling Shumoken joined in the fun...

……

"Wow--"

The splashed ink flows freely on the scroll.

Ling Shumo only held the ink basin in front of him and splashed the ink, and the pen rushed on the paper like the sea, which was fascinating.

"Abai, look at the mountains and rivers? They originate from the ink waterfall. You are not the only one painting them."

Opposite him, Bai Wan frowned and picked up the pen and ink hesitantly.

Suddenly, a white shadow flashed.

Without communicating at all, one of them took a basin of ink and splashed it on the scroll without restraint.

They actually made the dangerous peaks in the painting appear as images, galloping through the clouds.

Two full hours...

By the evening of Shen time, the night was gradually getting darker.

The white pea and white robe looked desolate, and the sunset glow gradually brought some human touch to his face, adding more color.

Realizing the shock in improvisation and calligraphy and painting, this person finally came to his senses.

Ling Shumo raised his head, took a quick look at the glint in his eyes, and asked him gently, "Are you okay?"

"Um……"

Bai Wan stood beside him and suddenly felt a sharp pain in her throat.

"If you want to draw the best picture in the world, I will draw it with you. I won't let you search for it on your own like you did back then."

Ling Shumo held his breath, like a ferryman leading someone out of the river, and subconsciously handed the seal to him.

"Besides painting, there are everything else in this world!"

“Nature is the backdrop. If you only indulge in the paper, your brushwork will lose its essence and become like a dead tree without spirit!”

……

"Abai, wake up!"

Bai Wan heard the other party say this in his ear.

He lowered his head, and he raised his head.

His long blue robe is cold and desolate, his white clothes are whiter than snow.

Bai Wan had obviously recovered from his previous trance, and was smiling with a hint of forbearance in his lucidity.

If ten years ago, I hadn't been so greedy and only thought about myself...

If he hadn't gotten into this dead end...

It’s a pity to think that there is no best picture in the world, and the pictures he drew were never the best in the world.

"Zi Chen, you've wasted your time!"

At this moment, Bai Wan looked at the person opposite with a smile and a hint of self-mockery.

"Abai, you're awake..."

Ling Shumo had just opened his mouth when he suddenly hugged the person.

Bai Wan raised the corners of her lips and kissed him unexpectedly, with a burning and chaotic feeling.

If it weren't for this person, it would be difficult for him to wake up from his madness for a while.