Gu Yuzhi couldn’t throw the money in Nangong Mo’s face. Instead, Zuzi spoke calmly, "Xiao Gu, let Xiao Sha finish the painting."
Gu Yuzhi: "Zuzi! Why are you also..."
He was too frustrated to care about being called "Xiao", and he couldn’t understand why Zuzi, who had always disliked Nangong Mo, would agree to that guy’s shaless demand.
Nangong Mo, standing at the top of the stairs, cast an intrigued glance at Zuzi’s back. Although the woman’s slender waist was obscured by Bao Gucheng’s broad figure, her flowing skirt and hair still captured his attention for a mont.
Interesting, was this woman who was sotis cold, sotis warm towards him now throwing bait again?
Is the tactic of feigned withdrawal to entice pursuit not working, so now it’s the opposite?
Sensing the burning gaze from behind, Bao Gucheng’s eyes darkened. He raised his arm to pull Zuzi fully into his embrace, completely shielding her from that covetous gaze behind them.
Zuzi nestled comfortably half-leaning against Bao Gucheng, lazily spoke, not answering Gu Yuzhi, but instead instructing Gu Qiusha, "Since others have paid a high price to support you, just painting boxers isn’t innovative. Paint the ending as you envisioned."
Gu Qiusha’s eyes lit up!
Zuzi truly understood her.
Not owing others favors was her principle in life, so simply leaving with her brother wouldn’t work.
But just painting boxers, indeed the image seed too garish, easy for her brother to misunderstand. If she added the ending... ah, then it would be the best of both worlds.
"Mmm! Zuzi, Mr. Bo, brother, please wait for , okay? Fourth Master, you continue drinking your tea. I’ll call you when I’m done." Gu Qiusha, full of energy, smiled brightly and climbed back onto the sandalwood chair to continue her painting battle.
Zuzi continued to lean against Bao Gucheng’s chest, inhaling the soothing scent, with a cool and calm expression as she watched the mural slowly take shape.
Nangong Mo ascended the stairs with an empty cup to brew tea.
Inexplicably, images of Zuzi’s strands of hair fluttering floated in his mind. Though hidden by Bao Gucheng, the more obscured, the more he wanted to uncover, wishing he could snatch her away from Bao Gucheng’s embrace.
"Tch..." The heat of the tea water scalded his finger, instantly forming a blister.
He snapped back to reality, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.
Gu Qiusha’s paintings were more in line with his mory, so why did he still have Zuzi on his mind?
Heh, he was not a man who could be easily swayed by trivial tactics like feigned withdrawal or enticent.
From now on, regardless of whether she showed a cold face or a warm face, it had nothing to do with him.
Bao Gucheng’s ti was running out. A woman dragging Bao Gucheng down was beneficial to him.
He just needed to wait patiently...
Using a tea needle to prick open the blister on his fingertip, he did not even frown, simply wiped it casually before continuing to brew the tea by hand.
The traditional tea brewing process was complex: the first boil resembled fish eyes, the second was a bubbling spring, the third boiled and surged like waves; adding tea, washing tea, swirling the aroma in the cup... every step required attention.
Nangong Mo was ticulously performing each step, while the tablet on the table casually played the daily news. Suddenly, several jarring phrases were heard—
"Recently, at the excavation site of the Pangu Tomb, an Ancient Coffin was discovered, made of hard jade, with a peculiar locking thod, unable to be opened..."
"According to reports, this Jade Coffin was once opened at an archaeological research site by a woman who was present. Witnesses saw an axe-shaped tool inside the coffin, suspected to be the ancient Divine Artifact ’Pangu Axe’..."
"Today, the archaeological team conducted another laser scan of the Jade Coffin, only to find it completely empty..."
"Since the coffin cannot be opened, it’s impossible to verify whether the scanning conclusion is correct, and whether the axe-shaped tool still exists within the coffin remains a mystery..."
Has the Pangu Axe disappeared without a trace?
Nangong Mo’s pupils shrank sharply.
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