Xue Xingyao's gaze fell upon the box. On the very top sheet of paper was the portrait of a young woman.
It showed only a blurry profile against a backdrop of brilliant spring scenery. The young woman, dressed in a turquoise gauze skirt, was looking back over her shoulder as if gazing at something far away.
It was rendered in just a few strokes, yet it was incredibly vivid.
Xue Xingyao had only ever seen one person with such masterful painting skills: Chen Shujing.
Xue Xingyao stood frozen, not taking out the portrait, nor immediately closing the lid.
There was more than one portrait. Beneath this one, perhaps, lay a clear depiction of the woman's face.
Xue Xingyao was no fool. She thought of Shen Mingji, the defiant youth who had once come to the Duke Mansion looking for her.
Then she recalled how particularly concerned Chen Shujing had been with the Shen family's affairs.
He had said that Shen Mingji was the younger brother of an old friend and needed his care.
