The moment he stepped into Youzhi Garden, he clearly felt the coldness become even stronger.
It was quiet in Youzhi Garden. Apart from the sound of his footsteps, no other sound could be heard.
It seemed that even the wind stopped when it reached Youzhi Garden.
Wu Jia held some small lanterns in his hand tightly. Only the small lanterns emitting bright light could give him a little sense of security at this time.
The light from the small lantern was dim and could only illuminate objects within two meters around it.
He walked around the yard for a while.
I found that the decoration of Youzhi Garden is very beautiful, with flowers, trees, and pavilions... It can be seen that the owner was very attentive when decorating Youzhi Garden.
Youzhi Garden is very clean, as if someone is cleaning it every day, but Xie Ping forbids anyone from entering, so who is the person cleaning it?
Wu Jia only felt that his doubts were growing.
After walking around the yard for a while, he finally mustered up the courage to go to the bedroom.
He always felt that that place held the secrets he wanted to know.
But the closer I got to the bedroom, the colder it became.
Finally, he stood in front of the bedroom door.
He gritted his teeth, grasped the small lantern tightly in his hand, and pushed it away.
The moment I opened the door, my eyes suddenly lit up.
I saw that there was an oil lamp lit in the bedroom.
But for some reason, the light from the oil lamp could not be seen from the outside.
With the oil lamp, Wu Jia could quickly see everything around him.
There are books and paintings in the bedroom, and it can be seen that the owner is a person who loves literature.
He approached the desk next to him.
There was a poem written on the paper on the desk.
"Ten years of life and death, I can never forget you without even thinking about you. A thousand miles away, lonely grave, where can I find my sorrow?"
The couple parted forever, missing each other for the rest of their lives, yet unable to see each other. This shows the deep sorrow and longing in the poet's heart.
The handwriting on the poem looks very new, as if it was written just a few days ago.
The poem is placed on top.
After Wu Jia finished reading the poem, he took it away, revealing a portrait underneath. The moment he saw the portrait, he was shocked.
Because that was his painting, very lifelike and vivid. Late at night, in such a cold place, suddenly seeing his own portrait still made people feel very uncomfortable.
I have to say that the painter put a lot of effort into the painting, especially the eyes.
But those eyes seemed to be his, yet not his.
It was the eyes again. Wu Jia frowned and couldn't help feeling annoyed in his heart.
When he peeled off this photo of himself, he revealed another picture underneath, which was also a portrait of a person.
One after another.
Wu Jia discovered that these portraits were all portraits of Xie Pingna's young servant.
Finally, there were only two portraits left. The second to last one looked very familiar. It was the young servant that Xie Ping wanted to take in recently.
Her appearance is at best pretty, nothing special.
Wu Jia took a quick glance and finally saw the last portrait.
The moment he saw it, his pupils suddenly constricted.
Because the last portrait and the second to last portrait have similar facial features, but they are obviously not the same person.
In the last picture, the boy also has a handsome appearance, but there is a hint of sickness that can't be ignored. His two curved eyebrows seem to be frowned, and his eyes seem to be happy, but not happy, as if they contain feelings, and also seem to contain a little tears.
He has a slender figure, like a willow supported by the weak wind, or like the sickly Xi Shi.
It is undeniable that this is a pitiful boy.
This painting seems to have been painted a long time ago and is a bit old, but it has been well protected by the owner.
However, Wu Jia had never seen this young man before.
Could it be that this is...
Wu Jia had a vague guess in his mind.
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