"Draw quickly. I'm going to draw too."
Seeing that he was still spacing out, Su Qiao urged him again.
"Okay."
Under the sunlight, a brilliant smile spread across Jiang Yihan's lips.
The breeze brushed back the hair over his forehead, revealing his dark eyes, which gleamed like stars.
Su Qiao stared at him in a daze, almost losing herself in his smile, which seemed to melt ice and snow.
This guy...
He'd better not smile after all.
Su Qiao looked at him, at the mountaintop in the morning, and at the faintly visible ranges of mountains in the distance. Inspiration suddenly struck her.
She quickly walked over to her easel and began to paint with complete concentration.
The spring morning sun warmly caressed their bodies. The air carried the distinctive fragrance of fresh grass, while birds chirped noisily in the forest, as if laughing merrily.
On the verdant mountaintop meadow, two figures were each absorbed in painting their own worlds.
The scene was quiet, peaceful, and warm, beautiful enough to be a painting itself.
It was not until the sun rose to the center of the sky that the two of them stopped their brushes, one after the other.
Su Qiao finished first. She quietly walked behind the focused boy and only spoke after he put down his brush. "Is this me?"
"No, it isn't."
Jiang Yihan instinctively raised a hand to block the painting, looking somewhat unnatural.
"It isn't?"
Su Qiao looked at the slightly slender figure from behind and the familiar ponytail. No matter how she looked at it, she felt it resembled her somewhat.
The boy's transparent attempt to cover things up had already revealed the truth.
Su Qiao turned around, shrugged, and put on a wounded expression.
"I treated you so well, yet you painted another