Xuanyuan Chong left and took away the painting.

Han Yu was still kneeling on the ground without any energy, as if he had lost his soul, and he learned quietly in the study that it seemed as if he was in a dead silence.

After a long time, a strong cold air swept over. Han Yu's face turned pale little by little, and the true energy in his body gradually disappeared. He was so cold that his whole body could not stop trembling, but he supported the ground with his hands and stood up slowly.

He staggered for a moment, then barely stabilized.

Turning around, my legs, which were already stiff and numb, raised up with difficulty, and walked step by step behind the desk.

His steps were sloppy and seemed to fall at any time, but he forced himself to walk over, held his hand on the edge of the desk, pulled a piece of white paper and spread it flat on the desk, pressing it with paperweight.

After staring at Baizi for a long time, he raised his eyes, looked at the wolf hair that was resting on the side, reached out and slowly picked it up.

The pale and weak hand held the pen holder, and the blue veins could be clearly seen on the back of the hand.

Hold the pen, dot the ink, and paint.

Half-down his eyes, he outlined it slowly, very slowly, but he was extra careful, like the first painting and more careful and focused.

With a sudden itch in his throat, he had to stop his movements and remove the brush in his hand to prevent the ink from tainting the painting.

At the same time, he used his left hand to pound his lips and coughed lowly. The continuous and hoarse cough made the smell scared.

Until the cough became more and more intense, he had to arch his body and support his elbows on the table. The violent coughing surged and lasted for nearly half a stick of incense. Until his pale face turned red and a layer of mist appeared in his eyes, the erupting cough gradually stopped.

Han Yu put down his left hand, and a bright red color was dyed on his lips and back of his hand. But he was not sure and continued to raise his hand to paint.

Every stroke and hook are all carved on the tip of the heart.

A painting took half an hour.

After finishing the painting, he put down his pen and looked at it in a daze, almost reluctant to look away.

What is presented on the white paper in front of you is a picture of watching the moon.

The bright moonlight is shining with silver light. There are a round table in the courtyard with several common fruit and pastries on it.

Several swaying osmanthus trees are planted in the courtyard.

Next to the round table, there was a stunning and charming girl wearing a moon-white palace outfit, and a black silk was gently pulled up with a peach blossom hairpin. She loosely spread her slender shoulders behind her back, facing the cold and bright moonlight, and she looked like a fairy descending to the earth in Guanghan Palace.

She looked up at the bright moon in the sky, looking yearning.

Beside her was a man in ink uniform, full of coldness and aura, but the look he looked at the girl was particularly gentle and doting, almost with a kind of piety that would last forever.

Han Yu looked at it in a daze without blinking, as if he had forgotten the passing of the world, and the stiffness and numbness of the cold air entering his muscles and bones.

"Qinger, the moonlight on October 16th is also very beautiful, no worse than August 15th, right?"

"Um."

"From then... every year today, will I accompany you to enjoy the moon, okay?"

"Okay, the osmanthus flowers are blooming so fragrant these days."

OK……

These days, the osmanthus flowers are blooming in full bloom.
Chapter completed!