Yan Zhen ordered herself to imagine that face that was so handsome that countless girls were fascinated by it as an ugly guy with bared teeth, and she smiled.
Standing on her tiptoes, she walked gently towards the small desk.
What a self-deceiving guy. He has never been to such a large study room at home, but he placed a small desk in the room with a few books pretending to be on it.
When Yan Zhen walked to the desk and was about to pick up the brush on the desk, she suddenly screamed in surprise——
ah--
Then she quickly covered her mouth, and the person in the painting came to life, wearing a pair of light blue shorts, with long flowing hair, a thin oval face, a pair of clear and bright eyes under the curved eyebrows, and long and curly eyelashes that seemed to be dyed
There is a layer of mist, the nose is delicate and pretty, the little mouth is red, and the smile is filled with infinite sadness...
Is this her?
Is it really her?
She never knew she was so beautiful.
Could it be because he painted it in oil?
The people in the precious oil paintings are delicate and elegant, like fairies descending to earth.
Is this really her?
She confirmed again, confirmed again, and then pinched her face.
pain--
It really hurts.
She excitedly picked up the two corners of the oil painting carefully.
The color has not yet dried in some places, and there are still some small areas that have not yet been painted, but in Yan Zhen's eyes, this painting is already completed.
It looks good, but there is a small title on it: Damn country girl!!!
Ahhhh, just a little title completely ruined this painting!
Damn Ning Ruxi, he must be drawing pictures to curse her every day, yes, that must be the case, he hates her.
The excitement and joy just now were washed away by this title. She picked up the brush and dipped it in some ink and hurriedly walked to the bed.
I asked you to paint me, I asked you to paint me, and I will paint you now! Paint you to death!
Yan Zhen raised the brush tremblingly.
But where is the best place to start?
After hesitating for a while with the pen in his hand, Yan Zhen decided to start drawing from his forehead.
He is an ugly man, an ugly man. There is no one uglier or uglier than him in the universe. The skin on his face is simply rough. There is no need for her to feel guilty. There is no need to feel guilty. Really, really.