Qiao Lian'er couldn't understand why Fang Hong looked at her like she was a ghost.

Is she really that scary?

As Fang Hong ran further and further away, Da Hong, who was still dragging a carriage, had no chance of catching up with him.

Qiao Lian'er simply said, "Uncle Fang, my stomach hurts, I'm about to faint."

Fang Hong slowed down and looked back in disbelief, wondering if the little girl was playing a trick on him.

Then they saw that Qiao Lian'er had stopped and was bending down, clutching her stomach, looking like she was in a lot of pain.

Fang Hong sighed and rode back on his horse.

After their heartfelt conversation, he considered Qiao Lian'er a friend. Moreover, this young girl was exceptionally talented, and he couldn't let such a person suffer any loss.

"Miss Qiao, are you alright? Are you feeling better?"

Qiao Lian'er jumped off the carriage and led Fang Hong's horse to a tree and tied it up.

Fang Hong: "..."

Realizing he'd been tricked by the little girl, he slapped his forehead: "I knew it! You're such a clever little thing, how could you possibly have a real stomachache?"

He sighed resignedly.

"Now that I'm back, you can scold and beat me as you please. I shouldn't have given you the letter the young master wrote. Sigh."

Qiao Lian'er then realized that Fang Hong ran away because he thought she would punish him for this.

"Uncle Fang, that's not what I meant. I really just wanted you to help me pass on something."

Seeing her serious expression, Fang Hong realized that he had been judging her with a petty mind.

Indeed, Miss Qiao is so righteous and understanding; how could she care about such trivial matters?

I guess he'd just laugh it off after seeing that turtle picture.

"Okay, just give me whatever you want me to pass on."

Qiao Lian'er then asked Fang Hong to bring over a brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.

"Uncle Fang, wait for me a moment."

Qiao Lian'er took her brush and ink and got into the carriage. She started writing and drawing, and a tortoise tower appeared on the paper. On top of the big tortoise, there were also small tortoises, which got smaller and smaller as they went up. There were a total of eight tortoises, and each tortoise had a different expression.

Some rolled their eyes, some pouted, some made faces, some had a ball of anger above their heads, and some were simply blind...

She looked in the storage space and found some paint pens, so she painted all the turtles green.

Then Qiao Lian'er wrote a line of words: Pei Zhujin is a turtle for generations.

Qiao Lian'er took the drawing down and asked, "Uncle Fang, what do you think of it compared to your young master's drawing?"

When Fang Hong saw the tortoise tower on the Xuan paper, he almost spat out the tea he had just drunk.

"Hahaha—" After a moment of stunned silence, he suddenly burst into laughter, bending over with laughter and clutching his cramping stomach.

It turns out that the person with the stomachache wasn't Qiao Lian'er, but him.

"Miss Qiao, I had no idea you could be so humorous."

"I'll have to trouble Uncle Fang to do me this favor."

Fang Hong laughed for a while before stopping. How could this whole thing be so interesting?

But he still needs to think carefully about whether or not he should help.

What if, in the end, it turns out the young master is chasing after him and beating him again?

"Uncle Fang, if the young master asks, just say that I forced you to take it to him."

"Alright, I'll bring it for you." Fang Hong smiled and shook his head: "Miss Qiao,

To be honest, you and the young master are like sworn enemies.

Fang Hong put away the tortoise painting and untied the horse.

"Miss Qiao, I'm really leaving this time. Please don't chase after me anymore."