Chapter 57：

A butterfly urged by the spring to break its cocoon ahead of time, fluttered its wings and landed on the windowsill, unbiasedly blocking the little sunlight above the girl's head.

The pure white wings trembled and folded lightly, looking like they had fallen on the top of the girl's head.

Ji Xiao listened to Wei Qing's unclear words and lowered his head to look at the two objects on the table.

The fragrance of flowers mixed with the scent of ink swayed in a quiet room, and the unpackaged pen looked a bit sloppy.

I have to say that this bouquet of flowers is impeccably exquisite and elegant, no matter from the packaging or the bouquet combination.

The gold-orange cardboard buckles the color of Ji Xiao's eyes, and the blooming violet exudes public pride just like her Alpha.

Every detail is vaguely revealing the flower giver's favor and understanding of Ji Xiao.

It's just that the so-called splendid beauty is just a lining for the low-toned black gold pen in the line of sight.

Ji Xiao didn't even think about it. He stretched out his hand and took the pen in front of him: "Of course I want a pen."

"Really?" Wei Qingyu was a little surprised by Ji Xiao's determination.

"Really." Ji Xiao nodded.

What kind of flowers does she want for someone who has a broken hand and wants to practice writing again.

Upon hearing this, Wei Qingyu looked at the pen in Ji Xiao's hand, and a smile was wiped from the end of his eyes.

She picked up the flowers sent by the South Jinfeng again, but she moved a lot more gently, as if pitying a loser, she sorted out the package of the flowers that had been crumpled by herself: "Then I will help you put this flower. Aside."

"Yeah, thank you." Ji Xiao nodded, but his eyes remained on the pen that Wei Qingyu gave her.

There is a beautiful flower pattern engraved on the golden pen, and the pure gold exudes indescribable beauty under the refraction of light.

The smooth metal curve merges into a point on the pen tip. Through the light, you can see the faint ink stains between the gaps, as if this pen was not specially made for her, but was given to herself by someone's baby for a long time. Same.

Ji Xiao carefully identified the ornamentation engraved on the pen, remembered the flowers that he saw in the bouquet just now, and asked uncertainly: "Is the engraved violet on this pen?"

Wei Qingyu frowned slightly when he heard the words, "Why do you think so?"

Ji Xiao was a little dazed, "Didn't these two of them be given by one person?"

Wei Qingyu's face became a little darker in an instant.

The sharp scissors cut short a violet flower branch just unraveled by her, and a few drops of clear water fell on the back of the girl's white hand along the hanging leaves.

"no."

"What is that?" Ji Xiao puzzled.

"It's Tumihua." Wei Qingyu replied looking at the violet in his hand.

Ji Xiao was even more puzzled when she heard this. She looked at Wei Qingyu with her back to her, and said, "How did you know? You didn't even look at it."

"Because I gave you this pen."

Wei Qingyu spoke and turned to look at Ji Xiao, with the calmness of the dark tide written in his turquoise eyes.

"That..." Ji Xiao looked at the flower next to Wei Qingyu and suddenly felt something bad.

Sure enough, in the next second, Wei Qingyu said the three words "Southern Jinfeng": "The flowers are sent by the southern Jinfeng."

Ji Xiao felt very strange, and said without thinking: "Isn't it for you?"

When Wei Qingyu heard Ji Xiao's words, he couldn't help frowning.

She looked at Yu Guangli's bouquet, and asked in a deep voice: "Why did he give me flowers? I didn't sit and chat with him all night."

The precipitous breeze blew across the villa, and the little butterfly fluttered across the window of the study room.

A flickering light crossed Ji Xiao's eyes, and she was startled when she looked at Wei Qingyu in front of her.

The faint soreness on the tip of the tongue bloomed again, and Ji Xiao felt that he had heard these familiar words not long ago.

It was just that the dry air made her suddenly discover that it was not the pheromone that was sour, but this sentence.

Why is Wei Qingyu's words sour?

Is she for the south Jinfeng?

No, she didn't give the two men even a chance to look at each other that night.

Ji Xiao's mind seemed to have something in mind, with a heart bang.

Unexplained tension and a little bit of honey suddenly appeared intertwined in her mind.

Or……

Is it for yourself?

But, how could it...

Wei Qingyu looked at Ji Xiao in a daze, and suddenly realized that what he had just said was a bit too restless.

The smell of irony was too much, and it turned into a feeling of jealousy.

She blinked unnaturally, turned her back halfway to Ji Xiao and said, "You should try this with a pen first."

After hearing this, Ji Xiao hurriedly recovered and nodded: "Okay."

The sun climbed up the sky with warm sunlight little by little, and two people with their own thoughts stood in the quiet study.

Ji Xiao looked at the delicate tea flower on the pen, but the little Wei whispered in that dream a long time ago appeared in his sight.

"Do you know what flower this is?"

"This is Tachibana."

The white flowers were piled up with petals, blooming like holy silk in Ji Xiao's mind.

Tu Binghua...

Does she like Tumihua very much?

Ji Xiao was thinking a little fascinated, until a tingling pain came from her fingers, she pulled her out of the whirlpool of memories.

The sharp pen nib repeatedly stroked the fingertips several times, and a deep red mark appeared in her sight.

Ji Xiao only discovered that there was no ink in the pen that Wei Qingyu gave him.

It is impossible for her to manipulate the ink sac to absorb ink with one hand, and then wipe the pen tip clean.

Ji Xiao hesitated, looking at Wei Qingyu who was concentrating on pruning the flower arrangements, calling out: "Wei Qingyu."

Obviously the girl's call was cautious, but Wei Qingyu was like a frightened cat, his straight shoulders shook slightly.

She carried the weakly held violet bouquet behind her back, and turned around to look at Ji Xiao casually: "What's the matter?"

"Can you put the ink for me?" Ji Xiao said, slightly lifting her arm from her neck, looking embarrassed.

The sun fell in Wei Qingyu's eyes, and there was a hint of luck in the turquoise pool water.

She looked at Ji Xiao who was standing behind the desk and offered her help, and nodded, "Okay."

It's just that Ji Xiao didn't know. Just as Wei Qingyu walked towards him, his hand hanging on his side was slightly unmarked.

The purple petals brushed the girl's green hands, and the violet that she picked out of the vase was silently thrown into the trash can on the side.

"Give it to me." As Wei Qingyu said, he took the pen in Ji Xiao's hand, and skillfully twisted the half-twisted pen body.

The mint scent wandering in the study became clearer, and the scented rosin in the ink intertwined with each other.

Ji Xiao sniffed, and couldn't help turning his head to look at the girl next to her secretly.

The black of the ink formed a sharp contrast with the light white of the girl's fingers, and the thicker it made her fingers white and translucent.

The bones are distinct like small jade pieces that have been carefully carved on the scrolls.

In a moment, Wei Qingyu filled the pen with ink.

She took the soft toilet paper pen to wipe off the ink stained on the pen, and then returned the pen to Ji Xiao, "Okay."

Ji Xiao looked at the finger that was in the center of his sight, and took the pen over: "Thank you."

Wei Qingyu smiled softly, and his eyes dropped to notice the field paper with only a few characters written on it that Ji Xiao deliberately hid underneath.

The gestures were crooked and straight, but the simple words revealed the anxieties of the master who was eager for success.

Coming to this conclusion, Wei Qingyu had no idea of ​​leaving Liu Jixiao to practice calligraphy here by himself.

She slightly leaned on the edge of the warm case, with one hand on the table, and said to Ji Xiao: "You can write a word of Yong for me to see."

The word "Yong" is the best expression of a person's ability to write.

Of course, Ji Xiao, who had his head pressed by his parents to practice some calligraphy since he was a child, also knew the truth, and his hand holding the pen couldn't help being tight.

The inexplicable sense of tension magnified in Ji Xiao's heart, and his inflexible wrists also became heavier.

The delicate tip of the pen fell on the paper and a thick black spot fainted.

For some reason, Ji Xiao didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of Wei Qingyu.

However, the day did not fulfill the wishes of the people, and a few eternal characters were reluctantly written, each with its own characteristics.

Ji Xiaogang wanted to block Wei Qingyu's sight sideways, but turned his head to meet the girl's calm eyes.

Realizing that she had been seen the entire process of writing by herself, her eyes were instantly covered with shame: "Is it so ugly...not even a child..."

"It's okay." Wei Qingyu nodded seriously.

Ji Xiao heard his eyes light up, but didn't want Wei Qingyu to add another sentence: "Much better than a child's."

For an instant, the frustration filled Ji Xiao's heart.

She wanted to start practicing earlier, so that Wei Qingyu was showing her best side.

Maybe even Ji Xiao hadn't noticed it herself. She didn't know when she started to care not only about Wei Qingyu's situation, but also how Wei Qingyu thought about herself.

The taste of peach brandy fell on Wei Qingyu's shoulder with a bit of lowness.

While Ji Xiao inadvertently stretched out her arms and took the paper in front of her, she preached softly while watching: "This is already very good."

"Actually, you don’t need to worry. Usually, it takes a lot of energy for people to develop another infrequently used handwriting. You have just started on the first day. Don’t ask yourself with the original right handwritten characters. As a kid just learning to write."

Wei Qingyu's voice was still calm, but it comforted Ji Xiao's frustrated heart just right.

Holding the grid paper in front of her, she complained with a good attitude: "The child's handwriting is really ugly, not as good as the bare leaf you put in the vase."

Wei Qingyu couldn't help but raise his head and look at the unorganized flower that she had forgotten on the opposite cabinet.

All the violet bouquets that Ji Xiao had misidentified were picked out by her. The back of Jin Nanfeng who had met that day broke into her mind unexpectedly, setting off a wave of jealousy.

Looking at Ji Xiao, Wei Qingyu preached in a wicked manner: "Your characters are more beautiful than any of his flowers."

The long hair on the side of Ji Xiao's face was pulled away with a warm breath, and fell on her ears with the bewitching voice.

Ming Ming Ji Xiao couldn't see Wei Qingyu standing behind, but she could clearly feel the breath of her approaching herself.

Mint's coolness and the remaining warmth of the girl's body cast a shadow behind Ji Xiao, covering her like a prison.

And Ji Xiao is like a prisoner who has lost his resistance, willingly being imprisoned by Wei Qingyu.

The jade-like gentle hand that I had just seen was caught off guard and fell into Ji Xiao's sight as if he had expected it a long time ago.

The slender fingers held her hand as if holding a pen, and the slight coolness also brought a warm damp sensation.

The palm is touching the back of the hand, and the mint and peach brandy are also intertwined.

The girl’s voice was a little cold and faint, and sent the calmest and hottest words into Ji Xiao’s ears: "Come on, I will teach you."

Plop, plop...

Ji Xiao clearly heard her crazy heartbeat.

She seemed to see the door that had been opened by a gap on the hospital roof that day, and slowly opened in front of her with a heavy squeak.

The old and time-honored characters circulate monotonously on the stone stele that is covered with green vines, and they are filled with eloquent words: like.