You rascal, stop right there!

Seven days later, early morning.

Luofu Gardens.

Ling Shumo, wearing white clothes and holding a paintbrush in his left hand, was sitting in a mahogany wheelchair, sitting in front of the table, moving his brush with some discomfort.

His writing was intermittent and difficult to control.

He paused at the part where he needed to draw the long line.

No one is used to suddenly switching hands to practice calligraphy or painting. It is really tiring.

"Hey, Zichen. Why are you painting with your left hand?"

The bearded Luo Wenqi walked up to Ling Shumo and looked at his pen. The lines were slightly shaky and there were some flaws in the ink splashes.

Looking at this man, Ling Shumo's tone was slightly polite, "My right arm is injured, so I wanted to try how difficult it is to use my unused hand!"

"Well, how difficult can it be? You want to try and feel how difficult Xiaobai is!" Luo Wenqi raised his eyebrows and murmured.

Ling Shumo pondered for a while, then slowly placed the brush in his hand on the pen rest. Although the pattern of the painting was still there, it lacked the wildness and agility.

Indeed, he found it difficult.

Luo Wenqi could see the anxiety and loneliness in his eyes.

"Brother Qi Tu, does he take his medicine on time every day?" Ling Shumo asked softly.

The person on the other side naturally knew what he was referring to, which was the drug that could cure the symptoms of amnesia. Although it might not really work, at least there was hope.

"I mix it into his meals and tea every day, and I haven't noticed anything unusual so far." Luo Wenqi spread his hands helplessly.

In fact, whether Bai Wan can restore Han Miaoran's memory has no impact on the friendship between the three of them.

Even Bai Wan himself didn't care.

However, they also didn't want to force someone else's past on him before he could remember it.

"Actually, I'll have to bother you for a few more days. I just hope to see him well before I leave."

Ling Shumo's face was solemn and his expression was serious. Even the figures he drew were faintly sad.

According to court regulations, ministers on business trips should return to Beijing immediately to report.

But this time his leg injury is more serious and he may not be able to walk for one to two months.

Therefore, he could only report to the emperor, receive treatment outside the capital, and wait for the emperor's decree.

His Majesty has issued an edict to build cenotaphs for the other members of the delegation and to comfort their families.

However, when asked to give an explanation, Xuanli has been ambiguous and perfunctory so far.

This is a bit worrying.

"Well, this is not really a bother. You are usually busy with official duties and it is rare for you to come to my place. I am so happy that I can't contain myself!"

Hearing this, Ling Shumo frowned.

When this person frowns, he looks like the drooping leaves of an orchid.

Luo Wenqi knew this man. The reason why he quit his job as a painter to take the imperial examination was not only because Han Miaoran died and disappeared, but also because he had no soulmate.

Another point is that Han Miaoran gave up the imperial examination and became a painter because of him. So, after he stopped writing, he gave up being a painter and took the imperial examination.

As a result, I am now so busy with official duties that I don’t even have time to visit my good friends.

This rare rest is filled with blood and tears.

Ling Shumo's fingertips touched the paper, and he sat as usual, looking up at the snow scene outside the window.

It’s cold in winter.

The garden is dyed with snow, and every place is like a painting yet not a painting.

Then, the man sighed unconsciously.

Ling Shumo knew very well that the price of coming here was brought by the dead followers and guards.

"Hey, it's so early in the morning. Why are you sighing, Brother Zichen?" A rogue man dressed in white suddenly appeared in the snow scene, behind the window frame.

Although the man was handsome, he didn't have the slightest trace of femininity.

In particular, that bright spring-like smile and the little white teeth that deliberately swayed added a hint of warmth to the snow.

"Hey, Xiaobai. You usually don't get up until noon. Why are you up at this time today? The sun is rising from the south?" Luo Wenqi laughed.

"Little Lolo! It's cloudy today! Where is the sun?" Bai Wan said with a grin.

This is nonsense, how can there be no sun on a cloudy day?

Luo Wenqi turned his head away, thinking that this man was full of twisted logic.

These days, even Ling Shumo realized that Brother Yuebai at this moment was more like the playful and frolicking person he was when he was seven or eight years old, rather than the gentle and polite gentleman he would be in the future.

So, he smiled lightly: "Ah Bai, I heard from Brother Qi Tu that you practice at least five cards every day now, is that true?"

According to Luo Wenqi, this person studied very diligently in order to live up to his kindness in introducing him.

Even he himself had to admit that even though Han Miaoran had lost his memory and his right hand was disabled, he still had ideas in his mind and was making rapid progress.

White Pea grinned, "Hey, I want to draw someone who is better than the one in the original picture book, can't I draw more?!"

These words were suggestive, and Luo Wenqi was so shocked that he coughed twice.

"There are pen, ink, paper and inkstone here. Can I see how your painting is going now?" Ling Shumo slid his wheelchair and pointed his sleeve towards the desk.

At this moment, Luo Wenqi suddenly discovered that the threshold, which was intact yesterday, was missing a large piece of wood, and even the threshold was gone.

Moreover, the cuts were rough and looked very hasty, without any skill at all.

It's obviously man-made.

So he got angry.

"Hey, how come my door was ruined like this overnight! It's made of mahogany!" His eyes were red, he put his hands on his waist, pouted, and stomped his feet hard.

The person behind him coughed twice in a rhythmic manner: "I know who did it!"

Luo Wenqi touched the door threshold with tears in her eyes. It was made at a huge price.

Bai Wan pointed at Chen Yu who was not far from the door and said firmly:

"It's him! It's Chen Er! He saw that the red wood of your door threshold is so valuable that he stole it and sold it!"

"I saw it with my own two eyes!"

"It's all him!"

……

"Boss! Where is your loyalty?!" Chen Yu frowned, feeling unwell.

It was clearly the boss who dragged him along to cut the door threshold last night.

However, Luo Wenqi was stunned for a moment, his face flushed. He kept his head down and stammered:

"Mr. Chen, why didn't you tell me earlier that you like rosewood? Why do you have to do such heavy work? It's so tiring! Send all the rosewood over tomorrow!"

Bai Wan was almost knocked down by the shy look of this tough guy and pinched her thigh hard.

During this period, this man was always chasing after Chen Er, and he was also a homosexual who liked men with golden buttocks.

He could guess that this man had taken a fancy to his younger brother.

But Chen Yu always tried to avoid it as much as possible.

But what is meant by brotherhood is that he will sacrifice himself generously when the boss is in trouble.

Then, the two people in the room watched the bearded Luo Wenqi, holding up the hem of his shirt and running towards the dark-skinned man shyly.

After the man ran away, Bai Wan smiled at Ling Shumo.

"He, he's quite... quite generous! This redwood is actually quite expensive!"

Ignore this man's playful smile.

Ling Shumo quietly pulled his hand over and saw that the ruffian's hands were red and swollen from holding the axe all night.

His eyes suddenly took on a dark color...