Ji Qingzhuo lowered her eyes, and she watched seriously the blood stained up, following the lines of the animal hair on the edge of the brush, thread by thread, lingering and delicate.

But after looking at it for a long time, she felt that her eyes hurt a little, she blinked and looked away.

Shen Rongyu's big hand held her hand, and his fingertips pressed slightly against her knuckles, leading her to hold the brush tightly.

The wrist is turned over, the back of the hand is touching the palm, rubbing slightly, the tip of the pen is bent, and swirled lightly, soaking in the color in the puddle of blood.

Even though Ji Qingzhuo's back is facing Shen Rongyu now, and her back is close to his chest, logically speaking, he should not be able to see her expression.

But Shen Rongyu bowed his head and whispered something in her ear, and the heat steamed her ears.

"Zhuo Zhuo doesn't seem to be serious." He meant that Ji Qingzhuo didn't look at the pen.

Ji Qingzhuo actually knew that when he said "not serious" he meant that she looked away, and she explained honestly: "The color is too bright, Brother Xiaoyu, it hurts my eyes after looking at it for a long time."

Shen Rongyu chuckled lightly: "Then close your eyes, if you don't look at it, I'll take you to draw."

When Ji Qingzhuo heard that he took her to draw, he didn't even need to look at it, so he immediately closed his eyes, and did not exert any effort if he could.

This kind of atmosphere is really... so weird, it's like being in a space with a higher than suitable temperature, everything around her is gently and slowly infusing her consciousness, just like the blood on the pen, She also seemed to be slowly melting in this temperature.

——Perhaps it was because of the wind and cold, Ji Qingzhuo thought, she felt her limbs were weak, hanging lazily, like a doll with its limbs hanging down, waiting for its owner to lead it and perform various movements.

Her body was a little weak, and she could only lean back slightly, leaning against Shen Rongyu's chest, which was different from the red airflow in the cultivation space, that airflow was cold, while Shen Rongyu's body was warm.

Ji Qingzhuo can't say that he likes it, he can only say that he has adapted to this temperature, but for a person with her personality, adaptation is more important than liking.

She closed her eyes, and she couldn't look at the bright red color anymore.

Shen Rongyu raised his head slightly, the protruding Adam's apple moved on his raised neck, and he felt Ji Qingzhuo approaching him.

He chuckled lightly, and the low laughter entered Ji Qingzhuo's ears.

Ji Qingzhuo's ears turned red instantly, and she felt goose bumps on the back of her neck. It was strange to say that she was also so close to the red air flow in the cultivation space, logically speaking, she should have gotten used to it long ago. Yes, but every time she gets close to Shen Rongyu, it is obviously just a simple action, but it still makes her face warm up and her heart beat.

There was darkness in front of her eyes, only Shen Rongyu was holding her palm so hot that the back of his hand was hot, he guided her, and hovered the brush dipped in blood on the red umbrella.

The stroke of the pen that is about to be drawn first outlines the outline of the falling flowers, so the pen must be gently drawn so that the lines drawn will be slender and elegant.

"Zhuo Zhuo, be gentle." Shen Rongyu's voice sounded again, he pressed Ji Qingzhuo's hand, and slowly fell down.

Ji Qingzhuo obediently lowered his strength, she had no strength at all, Shen Rongyu took her hand and pressed down lightly, the tip of the pen fell on the umbrella.

When Ji Qingzhuo's writing brush fell on the umbrella surface, even though he was as calm as Shen Rongyu, his breath was a little messed up.

A trembling sensation came from his back, and the soft and slender animal hair on the tip of his brush was dipped in his blood, almost as if he were painting on his body.

—Shen Rongyu felt that he would always do things that he regretted recently.

But the flower still needs to be painted.

At this time, Ji Qingzhuo felt that Shen Rongyu's movements stopped, and she heard his breathing sound, which was a little different from usual, and the rhythm was out of order. When that point of out-of-control error appeared, it would be like an avalanche, getting worse Messy hair.

She panicked, always worrying about what she did wrong. Her hand holding the pen moved slightly due to nervousness, trembling slightly on the umbrella surface, blurring a bright red mark.

Around the spine, the brushes were separated by the soft touch, paused, and then trembled and stroked.

Shen Rongyu's breathing was stagnant, and he hardly thought about it, so he held Ji Qingzhuo's hand, led her to put the pen on the umbrella, and then turned around with his beautiful wrist bones.

Ji Qingzhuo's movements were soft and her reaction was slow. Her hand was dragged by him, and she slowly turned a corner on the umbrella surface. The brush was sharp and sharp, drawing the end of the fallen flower petals, slender and weak, full of the beauty of spring .

She closed her eyes, not knowing what she had painted, and she was looking forward to it.

Ji Qingzhuo thought that her eyes were getting better, so she opened them a little, and she peeked at the outline of falling flowers that she had drawn.

Shen Rongyu came with a somewhat hoarse voice: "Why did you open your eyes?"

Ji Qingzhuo was facing Umbrella, and at such a close distance, he could naturally gain Umbrella's vision.

One front and one back, two eyes, the same person, just looked at her like this.

Of course, Ji Qingzhuo didn't know how Shen Rongyu found out that she had opened her eyes. Anyway, it didn't seem strange that a big villain could do such a thing, but after looking at the bright red outline, her eyes hurt again.

She closed her eyes again.

Shen Rongyu held her wrist, and after drawing the outline of the petals, the brush left the umbrella surface.

The feeling of clinging to the back disappeared, but the feeling of the soft pen tip was still inseparable, and it was gently scratching.

Shen Rongyu's movements were still steady, only Ji Qingzhuo, whose hands were held in his palms, could feel the trembling of his fingertips.

It's just drawing the pattern of the umbrella surface, he seems a little cautious...

Ji Qingzhuo spoke to comfort Shen Rongyu: "Senior brother Xiaoyu, don't be nervous, if the painting is broken, I will continue to use it."

Shen Rongyu held her hand tightly, and closed her slightly opened fingers.

With the tip of his tongue resting on the roof of his mouth, he uttered the two words in a correct accent: "Fool."

These two words always contain some special meaning. Ji Qingzhuo felt that his soul was about to float out in the darkness with his eyes closed. At this time, Shen Rongyu, who was leading her painting, seemed to collapse, and blood flowed down. It turned into the familiar red airflow.

She raised her head and rubbed against Shen Rongyu's chest, she was a little confused about reality.

Although Shen Rongyu felt his slightly intimate touch, he didn't speak, and only led Ji Qingzhuo's hand to turn at an angle.

The tip of the brush slanted and fell into the blood in the inkstone. In an instant, the tip of the brush that was originally dry was soaked by the wet blood.

Ji Qingzhuo couldn't see it, but Shen Rongyu's eyes stayed on the brush edge, a drop of blood was condensed on the extremely fine brush edge.

His movements stopped, he didn't move any more, he was very steady, the blood on the tip of the pen was just hanging in the air, not dripping yet.

Ji Qingzhuo waited for a long time, she couldn't hold the pen, her fingers trembled, blood drops fell from the pen tip, and dripped onto the center of the inkstone, creating a circle of waves.

Shen Rongyu led her, and turned the tip of the brush sideways again, and pressed down obliquely.

His thumb was pressing on Ji Qingzhuo's wrist. At this moment, Ji Qingzhuo was actually very nervous, and the pulse he felt was throbbing.

"Why are you nervous?" Shen Rongyu asked.

Ji Qingzhuo won't lie: "There's nothing to be nervous about, but... the heart is beating so fast."

She really didn't know what happened, why did it happen, wasn't it just painting?

Shen Rongyu turned his head sideways, and now his attention was on the brush again.

The hands of the two fell together, and the brush fell sideways in the center of the drawn outline of the fallen flower. The fallen flower should have a sense of transparency, so the brush must be touched immediately.

With just one click of the brush, the faint peach blossom print fell on it, and then moved away immediately.

Such a short and quick touch became even more intense, and Shen Rongyu's long eyebrows raised slightly.

"Done the painting?" Ji Qingzhuo couldn't wait any longer. She was not familiar with the current atmosphere and Shen Rongyu's embrace, so she wanted to leave first.

But Shen Rongyu lowered his head and put his chin on the top of her head: "Does it look good?"

Ji Qingzhuo didn't open her eyes, but she knew it must be good-looking, because Shen Rongyu led her to control the ink brush so well, so she nodded and said, "It looks good."

"If Zhuozhuo thinks it looks good, just draw a few more." Shen Rongyu's tone was a little joyful.

Ji Qingzhuo: "?"

Although she was puzzled, she still let Shen Rongyu continue to draw, but she listened carefully to Shen Rongyu's breathing, and she found that although his movements were stable and skilled, his mood seemed not to be calm?

Shen Rongyu... what's wrong?

The feeling he gave her now was like the way she tied the jade pendant to her that night.

Villains are always this weird. Ji Qingzhuo came to a conclusion.

Finally, Shen Rongyu had enough painting—maybe not enough painting, but not enough blood, just painting a flower, and he didn't pretend much.

Ji Qingzhuo's hand was dragged by him, and on the surface of the umbrella, he drew a light and shadow of fallen flowers wiped out by residual ink, and the brush was completely dried up.

Shen Rongyu sighed softly in Ji Qingzhuo's ear, the meaning of this sigh was unknown, but there was a tremor at the end.

He didn't let go of Ji Qingzhuo's arms. Ji Qingzhuo was sick and weak, so he didn't retreat.

She opened her eyes and looked at the few fallen flowers on the surface of the umbrella. The layout and shape were wonderful, and she couldn't help sighing: "Senior Brother Xiaoyu, it looks even better."

Ji Qingzhuo lowered his head, held the umbrella's surface directly, and touched it carefully, looking very satisfied.

Because of her actions like this, Shen Rongyu suddenly took two steps back, he said: "Try to put it in the space in your purse in the future."

As long as Ji Qingzhuo doesn't touch it, he won't feel the touch and other information from the umbrella.

Ji Qingzhuo said firmly, "No."

Shen Rongyu's laughter was still a little hoarse, and he said with a smile: "That's not it."

He was about to take back the inkstone, when Ji Qingzhuo looked at the trace of blood remaining in the middle of the inkstone, and asked, "Senior brother Xiaoyu, what color is the paint drawn?"

"It's blood." Shen Rongyu told the truth to scare her.

Ji Qingzhuo actually believed it: "Then is mine okay?"

"No." Shen Rongyu said, he didn't expect Ji Qingzhuo to believe what he said.

Ji Qingzhuo said with a little disappointment, "Okay."

"Zuozhuo want to try?" Shen Rongyu actually asked.

Ji Qingzhuo has read a lot of novels on cultivating immortals, in which the protagonist binds the magic weapon with some kind of blood as a contract. She thought that Shen Rongyu meant "it is blood". She remembered that she had not used blood to make a contract with an umbrella. .

She thought, or try it, if it is possible, then this umbrella that she likes very much has a contract with her, and it belongs to her completely.

"Think." Ji Qingzhuo nodded, she was purely influenced by some novels about cultivating immortals.

"Okay." Shen Rongyu actually agreed.

It is impossible to color this umbrella with ordinary pigments, after all, it is a magic weapon that is invulnerable to swords and guns.

Ji Qingzhuo's blood will naturally fall along the umbrella surface like rainwater falling on it.

Shen Rongyu helped Ji Qingzhuo cut his fingertips, it hurt a little, but Ji Qingzhuo could bear it.

She closed her eyes, and the blood from her fingertips slowly dripped into the inkstone, making a slight "tick" sound.

When it was almost enough, Shen Rongyu closed her hands, and with the powder on her fingertips, the wound healed instantly.

Ji Qingzhuo was able to see the bright red color briefly, and she asked Shen Rongyu, "Senior Brother Xiaoyu, what are you painting?"

"Draw whatever you like." Shen Rongyu said, of course he let Ji Qingzhuo do whatever he wanted, after all, she couldn't be successful.

When Ji Qingzhuo carved the epiphyllum jade pendant for Shen Rongyu, she first practiced the painting of epiphyllum for a long time. Although the final carved product was not very good, her initial draft of epiphyllum was not bad.

So she dipped some of her own blood and said softly, "Senior Brother Xiaoyu, is Epiphyllum okay?"

"Yes." Shen Rongyu looked at her with a smile, the out-of-control emotions when he was painting just now have dissipated, and now he is calm and calm.

Ji Qingzhuo held the pen in his hand, and it landed tremblingly on the umbrella surface. When the pen was no longer controlled by Shen Rongyu and touched the umbrella surface, Shen Rongyu regretted it again. The direction of writing under his own control was beyond Ji Qingzhuo's prediction It's a completely different experience.

She deliberately found a corner to draw Epiphyllum, because it would not destroy the original drawing on the umbrella surface, and as she drew it carefully, Shen Rongyu's breathing became more and more chaotic.

This place happened to be the back of Shen Rongyu's neck, with the spine down, hidden a little below the collar, if the neatly tied collar was a little messy, a little of the skin here would be exposed.

Ji Qingzhuo draws very fast, because she can't look at the color for a long time, Shen Rongyu's eyes are fixed on her, he is silent, just clenched his hands slightly.

—He is indeed a model of asking for trouble.

The pen is soft, even with Ji Qingzhuo's unique laziness, just brushing the back of the neck so softly, it is a different and comfortable feeling.

Mingming Ji Qingzhuo felt that he was drawing very fast, but Shen Rongyu felt that the time was extremely slow.

After a long time, Ji Qingzhuo showed him the umbrella surface, revealing the little red epiphyllum in the corner—in this complete drawing of the umbrella surface, it is more like the painter's signature.

"I drew it." Ji Qingzhuo said to Shen Rongyu.

Shen Rongyu's voice was hoarse: "It looks good, but don't touch the water."

He clearly knew that if it touched the water, the little epiphyllum would be washed away.

"Okay." Ji Qingzhuo said happily holding an umbrella.

Shen Rongyu left quickly, while Ji Qingzhuo continued to close his eyes and open them for a while in his small courtyard, admiring his paintings.

The epiphyllum she painted is really beautiful, except for the wrong color, but the temperament is in place.

Shen Rongyu went back to her residence and took a bath. The water was cold in autumn.

Cold drops of water fell down his skin, he walked up from the small pool in the courtyard, and tore off the large robe from the truss.

He entered the room, faced the mirror, and was about to put on his clothes neatly, but when he turned around, he saw in the mirror a long black slender scar along his spine.

Now at the end of the scar, on the back of the neck, where Ji Qingzhuo painted Epiphyllum just now, there is a touch of bright red color, in the mirror, it is like a dream.

This time, the always calm thin ice in Shen Rongyu's eyes was completely shattered, completely shattered.

In the mirror, on top of the ugly scars, there is a small eclipse flower, which is as bright red as blood.

——The shape and lines are exactly the same as the one painted by Ji Qingzhuo.

The author has something to say:

sorry i started laughing hahahahahahahahahaha

Zhuo Zhuo: Make a mark.

Xiaoyu: Impossible, absolutely impossible.

Zhuo Zhuo: It’s mine.

Xiaoyu:? ? ?

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