Qiao Zhizhi was painting when Wu Qingjin's voice drifted over. Her paintbrush continued to move, and her face remained expressionless.
Because Wu Qingjin wasn't simply jealous of her. From the moment she went to Prince Guangping to ask him to hold an art exhibition for her, he was plotting to push her step by step into the mud so that she could never get out again.
Qiao Zhizhi knew very well that some things could be forgiven, while others, once done, meant that they would never see each other again in this lifetime, which was already a lenient punishment. She hadn't even repaid them yet.
Perhaps, the blow Wu Qingjin suffered this time, the huge psychological gap, is a kind of retribution.
Seeing that Qiao Zhizhi wouldn't come out, Wu Qingjin didn't give up. She kept calling out until her voice was broken and hoarse, like a cuckoo crying blood.
She clutched her chest, swaying precariously at the entrance of the Qiao family home, her eyes red and her expression filled with sorrow.
Anyone who didn't know better would think she was being incredibly sincere.
Butler Chai watched coldly, as if he were watching a play.
He didn't stop her; he just wanted to see how far Wu Qingjin could go with her acting.
Seeing Wu Qingjin like this, he couldn't help but sigh, "Her acting skills are really not bad."
However, having lived for decades, he couldn't believe that someone with malicious intentions who wanted to harm others would suddenly change their nature.
Looking up, Butler Chai saw Qiao Zhizhi come out. He was a little nervous. Wu Qingjin was working so hard, wouldn't Miss Zhizhi be moved? After all, they had a two-year friendship, and her mindset was different from that of outsiders like them.
He was worried that Qiao Zhizhi might be too soft-hearted and fall for the same trick again. Just as he was about to speak, Qiao Zhizhi raised her hand to him, her expression calm.
When Wu Qingjin saw Qiao Zhizhi, her eyes lit up and filled with tears: "Zhizhi, you've finally come out to see me. You don't blame me anymore, do you?"
As he spoke, he opened his arms and pounced on Qiao Zhizhi.
Qiao Zhizhi didn't speak, but the two maids behind her stepped forward and stopped Wu Qingjin.
Wu Qingjin's outstretched hand didn't even touch Qiao Zhizhi's clothes.
"Zhizhi, you—"
Qiao Zhizhi lowered her eyelids and patted her sleeve, which Wu Qingjin had almost grabbed.
“Miss Wu, since you’ve come to apologize to me, why don’t you tell me where you went wrong?”
Wu Qingjin was taken aback. Qiao Zhizhi's attitude seemed to be deliberately making things difficult for her.
As expected, the goal was achieved, and the act was successful, so the performance ended.
She looked at Qiao Zhizhi's hands; they were slender and strong, indeed suitable for painting.
What she had to do was destroy these hands; only if Qiao Zhizhi accepted her back would she have a chance to do so.
Wu Qingjin gritted her teeth and knelt down in front of Qiao Zhizhi.
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