While Wen Chi was in a daze, Shi Ye had already picked up the paintbrush and placed it on his chest.
The ink was very cold and the tip of the brush dipped in black ink traveled on his skin, causing a tingling sensation.
Wen Chi’s skin was fair, outlined with a few strokes, forming a strong color difference between black and white.
Shi Ye was extremely focused on the painting and moved very quickly.
After a while, he drew the head of the phoenix smoothly.
He tilted his head to look and then looked at Wen Chi.
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“What do you think of this?”
Wen Chi was in a daze.
After listening to Shi Ye’s words, he subconsciously lowered his head and followed Shi Ye’s gaze.
Then he saw that a phoenix’s head was really drawn on his chest.
The head of the phoenix is not easy to draw, especially the eyes of the phoenix.
If the phoenix is not drawn well, then the phoenix will lose its soul.
However, Shi Ye used only a few strokes to draw out the cold and mysterious aura of the phoenix.
Compared with the chicken painted on paper before, perhaps this was Shi Ye’s real ability.
Wen Chi looked at the phoenix’s head, at the black ink on his chest and at Shi Ye’s slender fingers holding the brush.
Suddenly, he felt cheated.
He should have known…
Shi Ye is the crown prince, capable of calligraphy and martial arts.
He can write such beautiful characters, how can he only draw that picture of a chicken?
Maybe Shi Ye deliberately drew such an ugly chicken just to trick him and let him bring it to the banquet, so that he would be ridiculed by so many people here.
Obviously Shi Ye can draw very well but deliberately painted that ugly ……
In an instant, an unprecedented sense of grievance surged over and overwhelmed Wen Chi.
There was also the humiliation of being painted on his body.
The black ink left on his chest seems to have infiltrated into his flesh unconsciously and also dyed his bones black.
Before Wen Chi knew it, tears were already rushing out of his eyes.
Tears ran across his face, dripped from his chin, landed on his chest and finally landed on the brush Shi Ye was holding.
Make a rattling sound.
Shi Ye watched Wen Chi go from dazed to tearful, he didn’t seem to understand why Wen Chi was crying so sadly, so he frowned: “Why are you crying?”
Wen Chi closed his eyes but tears still flowed from the slits of his eyes.
He was sobbing so much that he couldn’t even utter a word.
Shi Ye asked: “Is Bengong not good at painting?”
Wen Chi shook his head vigorously.
Shi Ye stared at the tears on Wen Chi’s face and was stunned for a while.
Then he stretched out his other hand, trying to wipe away those tears for him.
However, before Shi Ye’s fingertips touched Wen Chi’s cheek, Wenchi raised his hand unexpectedly and pushed it away.
As if Wen Chi was not satisfied with it, he reached out again and took the brush out of Shi Ye’s hand and threw it into the lake not far away.
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