He drew with great care, every stroke precise and meticulous.
Shui Bing'er sat by the bed, her back perfectly straight, her hands folded on her knees. Yet her gaze kept drifting toward Wu Changkong.
"Stop staring at me. Don't blame me if I draw it crooked."
"Who was staring at you?" Shui Bing'er gave a soft huff and turned her face toward the window.
About half an hour later, Wu Changkong set down his brush, turned the paper around, and beckoned to Shui Bing'er. "It's done. Come take a look."
Shui Bing'er rose and walked over to his side, lowering her head to look.
The girl in the painting sat by the window, her long hair falling over her shoulders. There was a trace of softness beneath her cool features, and he had captured every bit of her charm.
She looked at it for a long while before saying, "It's beautifully drawn. I never knew you had this talent."
"I just draw when I have time, to pass the time."
Wu Changkong placed the brush back into its bamboo holder. "Back when sword practice wore me out, I'd casually sketch a few things."
"Can I have this painting?"
"Of course. I'll tie it up for you."
Wu Changkong then picked up the paper and carefully rolled it into a tube. He found a length of thin string in the drawer, wrapped it around twice, tied it, and handed it to her.
Shui Bing'er accepted the painting and kissed it like it was a treasure. Then she put it into her storage device, turned around, rose onto her toes, loosely hooked her arms around Wu Changkong's neck, and kissed him first.
Wu Changkong froze for only a moment before reaching out to wrap an arm around her waist.
The two became