Wu Qingjin has not appeared for a year.
Last year, she tried to poison Qiao Zhizhi so that she would never be able to paint again, but instead, she suffered a backlash and had to cut off her hands to prevent the poison from spreading throughout her body.
To prevent her from causing trouble, the Wu family confined her to their home. After a year, her legs began to atrophy, partly due to the effects of the toxins.
Whether it was the Wu family or the Murong family, with whom they had a strained relationship and fought to the death, they had both lost their power and influence after being demoted and stripped of their official titles. Neither family had the energy to fight anymore; they were already doing well to preserve what they had.
Therefore, these two families are now like stagnant water, lifeless and shrouded in negativity.
Wu Qingjin was quite young, and after a year of staying at home without ever leaving the house, she couldn't stand it anymore and wanted to go out and see the world. After much pleading and cajoling, her family finally agreed.
Seeing that there was something interesting to see ahead, they had someone push her over.
"What a genius! A genius like him only comes along once in a hundred years."
"The painting is exactly the same as the real scene. Even the slightest trace of insects gnawing on the edge of the willow branch can be reproduced exactly."
"And look at the ripples on the water, and the reflection of the sun in the water—it's exquisite."
The onlookers were full of praise and completely convinced.
A bad feeling rose in Wu Qingjin's heart. In the past year, she had not forgotten that name. Instead, that person kept appearing in her dreams, becoming her nightmare.
Although she always believed that Murong Shu was responsible for her current predicament, her hatred for Qiao Zhizhi was even greater than her hatred for Murong Shu.
If Qiao Zhizhi hadn't been so determined to stand out and suddenly displayed some talent, she wouldn't have lost her composure, and none of the subsequent events would have happened.
The servants pushed her into a suitable position, and Wu Qingjin craned her neck, but could not see what was in front of her.
She frowned: "With so many people, how can I see them? Lift me up."
The servants had no choice but to lift the wheelchair.
After Qiao Zhizhi finished a painting, people around her started bidding. Among those present were many wealthy young men, who were happy to buy a painting that everyone appreciated in such a pleasant spring atmosphere.
"Thank you all for coming. I won't sell the paintings I make here. Instead, let's have a raffle. Whoever wins a painting keeps it. Just have some fun," Qiao Zhizhi said.
"Great, a lottery is great. It gives us ordinary people a chance to own a painting by Master Qiao."
The crowd erupted in cheers.
"Nowadays, even small paintings by Master Qiao are worth two or three thousand taels of silver, which is usually beyond our reach. We hope that good fortune will come our way."
Wu Qingjin stared blankly at the scene.
Although she had been living in seclusion at home for the past year, how could she not know that Qiao Zhizhi had become a highly sought-after painter outside, and that a slightly unique and large painting was worth a fortune?
Qiao Zhizhi is now living the life she wants, enjoying the adulation she desires, and enjoying immense popularity.
The distance between them now is like heaven and earth, a world apart.
With her hands crippled, all hope was dashed.
Immediately, overwhelming dark emotions surged from the depths of his heart, entangled, and clashed.
Wu Qingjin instinctively tried to grab the armrest of the wheelchair, but a sharp pain shot through her phantom limb, and she realized that she no longer had a hand.
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