The man in Tsing Yi sat in the study, looking over and over at the "Three Immortals Heading to the South" painting. His delicate face and sharp eyes were half covered by the shadow of the black hair, and he always looked a bit gloomy. A heavy temperament.
A little girl of eleven or twelve years old was sitting not far from him, concentrating on an embroidery.
This was what Blaine Lian saw when he came in carrying the black dragon gun and Sun Zhen, who had just finished riding, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but twitch.
Ning'er saw him and greeted him, "Uncle Lian~"
"Ning'er, why don't you go out to play?" Blaine Lian touched her head.
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