Cui Ziqi's gaze shifted from the drawing paper to Xia Wan's face.

The girl's bright eyes were illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the broken window, her gaze sparkling with life. Her eyes were upturned at the corners, and her fair and clear face was radiant with a smile, giving her a charmingly girlish look.

His eyes darkened slightly, his heart unsure whether he was moved by the butterfly or by the girl's beautiful face.

He could not ignore the redemption, beautified by memory, leaping from the drawing paper and landing on the smiling face of the person before him, becoming real once again.

The heartbeat is not under one's own control.

He didn't answer Xia Wan's question, but instead asked in a low voice, "Why did you draw this?"

"I just got itchy hands."

Xia Wan turned her head and put down her paintbrush.

Looking at the life she had poured her heart and soul into on the drawing paper, she smiled with satisfaction.

She wasn't sure if Cui Ziqi believed Xia Zhizhi, but at this point, she needed to secure her own safety.

The only thing she could defend herself with was the butterfly in Cui Ziqi's memory.

As long as the story is told convincingly and the drawing is realistic, he can always believe it to some extent.

Even if she doesn't believe it, or even just has doubts, it's good for her.

There was no sound behind him for a moment.

Just as she was about to turn around to look at him, she suddenly felt a pressure on her left shoulder.

The force was not strong.

She could feel the man behind her squatting down with the force of his movement. She tilted her head slightly, and the sunlight painted a picture of the sky from the tip of his straight nose. His long eyelashes drooped down, and his dark, glassy eyes were focused intently on her left shoulder.

"If you want it to look like the real thing, you should draw it here."

When she got home, she changed into a gray set of loungewear.

The fabric of the loungewear was thin, and the warmth of Cui Ziqi's palms penetrated the clothes and warmed the skin on her shoulders.

Xia Wan suddenly trembled inexplicably, her left shoulder feeling as if it were burning hot.

She instinctively tried to shake off the hand, but the man pressed her down firmly, making her unable to move.

Cui Ziqi squatted down, his trench coat slumped on the floor tiles, and his fingertips slowly moved toward Xia Wan's collar.

His gaze swept across the golden paint on the ground, finally settling on Xia Wan's stiff face.

“Paint another one for me, like the one you painted on the butterfly on my shoulder fifteen years ago.”

His voice was as pleasant as ever, but the flat tone was nothing special.

But that's precisely why it's so abnormal!

When buying paint, Xia Wan had thought about painting the butterfly on her shoulder with gold edges, imitating the description given by the original owner fifteen years ago, and then casually showing it to Cui Ziqi.

But that only applies when it happens unintentionally!

That's how you achieve an unexpected effect and increase the credibility of the event itself.

But what's the point of drawing it in front of him?

As she pondered, Cui Ziqi had already hooked her left shoulder and pulled down her collar, revealing the delicate butterfly birthmark on her fair skin.

"Not drawing?"

While speaking, Cui Ziqi's gaze remained fixed on the butterfly.

Xia Wan froze, and when she suddenly heard him speak, she was so frightened that she almost jumped out.

She bit her lip secretly, glanced at Cui Ziqi, then took out a very fine paintbrush, dipped it in gold paint specially made for body painting, and handed the brush to Cui Ziqi.

"You draw it for me."

Cui Ziqi looked at the paintbrush that was handed to him, then looked up to meet Xia Wanqing's sharp eyes, tilting his head slightly in confusion.

Xia Wan chuckled: "Based on the painting you remember, I want to see what a butterfly looks like through the rain."

Cui Ziqi couldn't refuse any of Xia Wan's earnest requests.

After meditating for a while, he slowly took the paintbrush from her hand.