Qiao Zhao spread his hands and looked around.

Yang Houcheng was impatient and couldn't help asking her: "What are you looking for? Could it be that the painting was lost by you?"

This excuse is really not very good.

The little girl didn't raise her eyelids and said lightly: "I haven't lost my painting, I'm looking for 'demeanor'."

demeanor?

The three of them were stunned.

"What is 'Fengtu'?" Yang Houcheng asked again because he thought there was a homonym.

The little girl's pair of autumn-like eyes swept across Chi Can and explained patiently: "The style of style and generousness are for demeanor."

Now the three of them understood. Zhu Yan and Yang Houcheng looked at each other and looked at Chi Can together, unable to help laughing.

Chi Can's cold face turned black with a white jade-like face.

Since he met this girl, the number of times he was ridiculed by two friends has suddenly increased.

He strode to Qiao Zhao and reached out to pinch her pointed chin: "Bold, do you know who I am?"

The little girl blinked and tentatively said, "Savior?"

Mr. Chi's anger seemed to be a balloon that was rapidly expanding, and was suddenly pierced by a needle. He stared at the little girl in front of him who was not as good as his armpit, and twitched the corners of his mouth and let go silently.

This girl must be here to defeat him, right?

The muffled laughter of two friends came from his ears, Chi Can took a deep breath, shook his sleeves and left.

When his figure disappeared at the door of the cabin, Yang Houcheng almost smiled and bent over and said to Qiao Zhao: "Girl, my brother will protect you from now on."

It is really rare for someone to make Mr. Chi suffer frequently.

Qiao Zhao bowed and saluted: "Thank you, Brother Yang, for your love."

Zhu Yan's lips twitched, trying to say something, but finally glanced at Yang Houcheng and didn't say anything.

After a moment of tranquility was found on the deck, Chi Can rushed out of the cabin like a whirlwind, frightening Zhu Yan and the others who knew his personality.

"Are there any thief? Or have you encountered Japanese pirates?" Yang Houcheng pressed his right hand on the scabbard around his waist, looking nervous.

"What Japanese pirates, come with me!" Chi Can shouted, turned around and walked back.

Yang Houcheng murmured as he walked in, "We are far away from Fucheng, so I said it's impossible to meet Japanese pirates."

Today, Daliang is not a peaceful country. The Tartars frequently plunder and invade in the north, while the Japanese pirates on the south coast are a major concern. In recent years, the disasters brought by Japanese pirates have become more and more serious, which has caused great trouble to the court.

Qiao Zhao looked at the figures of the three of them disappearing at the door one after another, and kept following without hesitation.

"What's going on?" Zhu Yan was always calm, but now he looked at the duck show picture on the desk in the study but lost his composure.

Yang Houcheng even shouted: "Hello, can you? I clearly remember there is a ball of ink here!"

As he said, he reached out to touch it.

"Don't move!" Zhu Yan shouted, without caring about his tone being too strict and tense. He took out a handkerchief and wrapped it around his fingers, and carefully pressed it gently to the reflection of the bridge on the painting.

He withdrew his hand and saw the faint trace of ink on the snow-white handkerchief. His eyes shrank and he suddenly looked at Qiao Zhao.

Chi Can vaguely guessed something about his friend's actions, but he couldn't believe it. His eyes were locked firmly on Qiao Zhao's face and opened his mouth: "You——"

The answer is too amazing, and I can't ask.

Qiao Zhao walked over slowly, picked up the long box on the desk and handed it to Zhu Yan.

Zhu Yan took it in a daze, then seemed to remember something, and quickly opened the long box and took out a painting from it.

The scroll unfolds, and it is a picture of a duck play!

The three of them stared at the ink mark on the duck opera picture at the same time, and then looked down at the painting on the desk.

Apart from that ink mark, the two paintings are exactly the same!

"It's exactly the same. How did this be done?" Zhu Yan murmured.

He had a lot of research on this, and naturally he could see that the two paintings in front of him were not only similar on the surface, but also had the same character.

"This is not a copy, definitely not a copy!" Zhu Yan shook his head repeatedly, looking at Qiao Zhao with a strange expression, "Miss Li, can you also have a picture of Mr. Qiao's duck show?"

The duck opera picture is a famous work of Mr. Qiao in his early years, and more than one of them has been circulated.

Qiao Zhao pointed to the handkerchief that was almost clenched by Zhu Yan.

Zhu Yan lowered his head.

The faint ink mark on the handkerchief reminded him how ridiculous the question just now was.

He suddenly became angry and asked, "How did you do it?"

Isn't it ridiculous for a little girl to draw Mr. Qiao's famous works to the point of being fake and real? Isn't it ridiculous for him to be quite content with painting skills in daily life?

"I've copied it, I didn't say that I admire Mr. Qiao very much and have been copying his paintings." Qiao Zhao said honestly.

She didn't lie.

When she first learned to draw, her grandfather drew a duck, which she had to copy for three years, and then spent another half a year to paint the duck in the pond behind the apricot forest. After that, she could draw the duck with her eyes closed, and no matter what posture the duck she drew was, it was difficult for others to distinguish it from her grandfather's.

In the words of my grandfather, the duck she drew had the same soul as the duck in his pen. The soul was the same. Even if the shape was different, others would think it was from one person.

My grandfather told her that when she can inject the duck she writes with the soul of her understanding, her painting skills will be considered a great success.

Unfortunately, she is not very talented in painting, so she may have no hope in this life.

"Copy?" Zhu Yan murmured these two words, feeling lost.

Of course he didn't believe it was just copying, it might be talent.

"It's so similar, it's so similar! Girl... No, Miss Li, did this really paint it?" Yang Houcheng stared at Qiao Zhao without blinking.

Qiao Zhao smiled at him and looked at Chi Can: "Brother Chi, can you get a job done?"

Chi Can's expression was quite complicated. He was silent for a while before nodding, turned around and hurried out.

Yang Houcheng explained with a dry smile: "Don't care, that guy probably feels he can't come to Taiwan."

Thinking of the amazing painting, he suddenly felt embarrassed to scream "Little Girl" again, turned his head to Zhu Yan and said, "It's so stuffy inside, let's go out."

Zhu Yan looked at Qiao Zhao deeply and nodded randomly: "Yes."

Back on the deck, Zhu Yan stood on the railing, silent.

Yang Houcheng patted his shoulder: "Why, have you been hit?"

Zhu Yan smiled bitterly.

Chi Can, leaning against the railing, suddenly whispered: "She is the daughter of a little editor?"

He was not a person in the same circle. He didn't know if there was such a Li Xiu writer in the Hanlin Academy, but he felt that such a family could not raise such a smart daughter.

"What's there to doubt about this? Will she still lie in this regard?" Yang Houcheng disagreed.

Chi Can glanced at Zhu Yan and said, "I just think it's too bizarre. Zizhe has been asking famous teachers for teaching since he was a child, but he can't even make such a painting."

Zhu Yan twitched the corners of his mouth.

I am already depressed enough, and I am still being led out. Is there any humanity?

Yang Houcheng also glanced at Zhu Yan and said carelessly: "This is not surprising. People have different talents. For example, the world's famous Mr. Qiao has never heard of his father's reputation."

Talent, talent...
Chapter completed!