The tyrant who had just left came back. Wanwan looked at the familiar figure of a certain scumbag father and couldn't help but complain in her heart:
[Help! Why is this jerk dad here again? Is he really that free?]
[Are you really that dependent on my mother? Why don’t you take a rope and tie it to my mother’s belt later?]
The tyrant thought this suggestion was good, but he didn't want to tie his Yi'er to his belt, but he could tie this little brat to his belt.
Concubine Yi saw the man return shortly after leaving and asked, "Your Majesty, did you drop something?"
"No." The great tyrant walked past Concubine Yi, took her hand affectionately, and said, "I still want to spend more time with you, so let's take these memorials of yours."
As soon as the great tyrant finished speaking, he raised his hand slightly, and several young eunuchs came in carrying a box of memorials.
Wanwan: “…”
[Should I say you are diligent, scumbag dad, or diligent?]
When the great tyrant said he came here to review memorials, he really was sitting there reviewing the memorials attentively.
He sat on the couch, holding the folder in one hand and the brush in the other.
The afternoon sun shone on him, and Wanwan, who was watching from the side, thought that her scumbag father looked quite pleasing to the eye.
The tyrant standing by was reviewing memorials while thinking about how to naturally mention the imperial teacher in front of this little brat.
He was thinking when he suddenly smelled the scent of a milk can. He turned his head and saw a little kid standing next to him, stretching out his little hand and standing on tiptoe to reach the brush hanging on the desk.
What did he say? This little brat is so short that he can't even climb up the table, and he still dreams of being the king of this country. Haha.
"What?" He lowered his eyes and looked at her.
Wanwan looked at him with her big innocent eyes and said, "Daddy, I want a brush."
"What do you, a little brat, need a brush for?"
Although the tyrant said this, he still reached out and held Wanwan in his arms, took out a brush from the pen holder beside him and handed it to her.
Wanwan replied: "Painting."
She paints?
The big tyrant pulled out a piece of rice paper from the side and handed it to her to draw. He stared at the little kid's hands and suddenly thought that since this little kid had memories of his previous life, did he mean that he was proficient in music, chess, calligraphy and painting?
The tyrant looked at her with a little more appreciation in his eyes, wanting him to see if his good daughter was a little prodigy.
"Come, draw a daddy for me." The great tyrant put the memorial aside and considerately dipped some ink on the brush and handed it to the little kid.
Wanwan was just bored and wanted to draw for fun, but after hearing what her scumbag father said, she immediately became interested.
[Hehe, my little painter's talent is finally being discovered by my scumbag dad. Watch me show off my skills and stun you.]
Wanwan rolled up her sleeves, looking like she was ready to get to work.
The tyrant was also watching with great interest. When he first started writing, there was a smile on the corner of his mouth. But after a while, when the head was drawn on the paper, the smile on his face suddenly froze.
"These are the eyes..." Wanwan's little hands moved on the paper, "Draw a pair of ears, and then the body..."
The Tyrant: “…”
It's unbearable to watch.
The tyrant turned his eyes away and silently picked up the memorial beside him.
After a while, Wanwan's great artistic creation was completed.
"Daddy, look, does it look like you?" Wanwan picked up the rice paper and handed it to a scumbag dad.
The big tyrant looked at the ghost painted on the rice paper, which was uglier than a ghost, and the corners of his mouth twitched. He smiled and touched the little kid's head, and said with a kind father's face, "Be good, go play in the mud."
If you don't have the talent, don't try to force it.
Seeing the disgust in her scumbag father's tone, Wanwan couldn't help but curl her lips.
【A stinky scumbag dad with no vision】
Wanwan got down from her scumbag father's lap, sat next to him, and continued to fiddle with the painting in her hand with the brush.
The tyrant looked at the little brat sitting next to him, looked at the memorial in his hand, and then sighed in pretended disappointment.
"well."
When he sighed for the first time, the little kid beside him who was concentrating on drawing didn't look at him.
He sighed a second time, but the little brat remained indifferent.
He sighed for the third time, and it seemed as if the little brat only had eyes for the painting in front of him.
Seeing her indifferent and completely absorbed in painting, the tyrant was so angry that he almost pulled her off the drawing paper.
This kid is so focused on drawing?!
Your father has sighed so many times in front of you, don’t you know how to care about me?
The little brat didn't react at all, but Concubine Yi, who came in with snacks, heard His Majesty sighing and asked worriedly, "What's wrong, Your Majesty?"
"Nothing, I'm just worried about the Imperial Master's seclusion." The Tyrant said, looking at a little kid beside him.
Come on, my dear daughter, I mentioned the Imperial Master, tell me in your mind whether he is dead or alive.
A certain little kid was oblivious to what was happening around him and was busy drawing.
[Oh my god, I'm such a little genius, I'm so good at drawing]
The tyrant looked at her drawing paper and saw that there were two more ghosts on the paper that were uglier than ghosts.
This little brat’s painting skills... are hard to evaluate!
But is the point of painting?
It’s the Imperial Master! It’s the Imperial Master!
"Isn't it normal for the Imperial Master to be in seclusion? Why is Your Majesty worried about this?" Concubine Yi said again.
【National Master?】
Wanwan, who had been offline for a long time, finally came online after hearing the familiar voice of her mother.
The tyrant's eyes lit up. Yes, it was the national master, the national master.
The Tyrant sighed and said, "The Imperial Master has been in seclusion for half a year without food or drink. I am a little worried about him."
[I stayed in seclusion for half a year without eating or drinking. Damn, I'm dead and no one would know.]
Tyrant: “!!!”
Is that guy really dead?
The tyrant was somewhat unbelievable.
Wanwan: [No, I seem to have some impression of this Imperial Master. His name is Zong something. He seems to be quite powerful. Retreating for half a year is not a big deal for him.]
What the little brat means is that the national teacher is still alive?
【I remembered that this national teacher is still alive】
Hearing this, the tyrant breathed a sigh of relief, but the next second a certain little brat's words made him breathe a sigh of relief again.
[But he was about to die, his scumbag father chopped off his head, and then he was gone]
Tyrant: “???”
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