Sui Wanhe naturally had no way of knowing what Tang Yu was thinking.
With her pure-hearted nature, there were probably few people in the vast imperial palace more naive and unworldly than her.
Since it was a congratulatory gift for her imperial father, Sui Wanhe painted with exceptional focus, and nearly two days passed in the process.
Tang Yu waited patiently at the side, occasionally brewing himself a pot of tea to sip slowly and offering a few pointers now and then.
When she finally finished, Sui Wanhe stood beside the painting with her hands on her hips and asked smugly, "Tang Yu, look at it. Aren't you ashamed of your own inferiority? Don't you feel utterly defeated?"
"Does Your Highness want to hear the truth or a lie?"
"The truth, of course. I hate it most when people lie to me."
"The truth is, if I held a brush between my toes, I could probably paint at about this level."
Tang Yu said with a chuckle.
"Hah?"
Sui Wanhe was immediately displeased. She sneered, "Come on, then. Here's the brush. If you can't paint something at my level today, you definitely won't be getting any good juice."
She actually tried to hand him the brush, grabbing Tang Yu's foot and attempting to pull off his shoe.
Tang Yu hurriedly pulled his foot back and laughed. "I was joking. Your Highness's painting skills are unquestionably excellent. You've improved at an astonishing rate, and you put your heart into this painting. A painting with spirit is no longer merely a painting—it is a work brought to life. Just looking at it, one can feel the emotions within."
"Oh? Is that so? Then go on and tell me about its other merits."
Seeing how sincere Tang Yu's flattery sounded, Sui Wanhe beamed