Jiu Ge’s Beloved Spirit

On one side, on the side of Zhuqi Qimu.

On the cold ground, a small shadow quietly fell.

The little shadow was fluffy and stayed there for a while, then easily jumped up to the high window eaves and stood on the small wooden board above.

It looked left and right, thinking that the window was closed as before.

Unexpectedly, it touched it lightly with its paw, and the window swing moved.

It seems that the window is not closed, but opened.

The beautiful little white tiger tilted his head, pulled it open, and then got in.

The palace was warm as spring, and the lights were bright everywhere.

The white tiger's claws landed on the ground, as light as cotton, without making a sound.

When it saw the figure sitting on the royal chair writing as before, it blinked and walked over.

"Ouch~"

Not far away from him, it made a sound, as if to remind him.

However, the indifferent figure showed no reaction. He put his pen down on the rice paper spread out and didn't know what he was writing.

"." Bai Hu, who received no response, stared at the spot for a while, then jumped onto the soft platform beside him.

With its softness, it jumped easily and jumped onto his desk.

Four tiger paws stepped on the edge of the slightly upturned desk, and his round little head looked at the inkstone, and then looked at the rice paper.

When the beautiful blue tiger eyes saw the content on the rice paper, they were stunned for a moment.

The tiger's pupils widened slightly and became rounder in shape.

Its tail was slightly upturned, its claws were a little unsteady, its tiger eyes were flashing, and its back was stiff.

What was clearly displayed on the rice paper was not someone else, but

Princess Chu Yang.

The scene of her swinging under the ancient locust tree was painted in every detail.

Even the lazy look of her looking up at the sunshine is extremely stunning.

Bai Hu was frozen and unable to move, watching him write, his brows light and his eyes deep.

"."

Now, is this what she thought?

Bai Hu didn't know whether he should say anything for a moment.

It looked at the rice paper spread out, and then at the portrait that had been hung up to dry. It was the scene when she met him that day.

The woman in the portrait has her eyebrows slightly lowered, the tassels on her hairpin are fluttering like butterflies, and her light blue dress is as elegant as orchid and extremely touching.

It looks so lifelike, as if it is about to step out of the painting in the next second.

The tail of the white tiger that was stepping on the imperial desk slowly drooped down.

Jing Jing looked at the emperor who was writing, and then tentatively touched the rice paper with his front paws.

The man who was holding the pen paused for a moment.

The tip of the pen was dipped in ink, and a drop of ink seemed to accidentally fall onto the paper.

Soon, Jingran blurred out, and the woman on the swing was painted, and there was also a slightly abrupt patch on the skirt.

It doesn't look like the problem is big, and you can't find it without looking carefully.

Que Yan raised her eyes lightly and looked at it. Her eyes were cold, just like the temperature tonight.

The white tiger's plush paws pressed against the rice paper, and immediately, a plum blossom print fell.

Its round little head tilted, and it roared, as if asking, what is he doing?

Que Yan spoke calmly, showing no emotion, "Why are you still here?"

"Do you really think that if you save me once, I won't skin you?"

"." Bai Hu looked at him quietly.

The clear blue tiger eyes looked at him quietly, as if they wanted to see through his heart.