"..."
"Your current work is bad for your eyes, stop painting for now."
Beiming Han was deeply distressed; he could sense her change, but he was helpless against it, and this feeling of powerlessness drove him crazy.
It was as if, every night, although she lay beside him, he could feel her heart drifting away.
"This is my job, please respect my work!" Gu Qingxin firmly clutched her drawing board.
"You don't need to do this. Whatever money you need, I'll give you as much as you want!" Beiming Han insisted.
"..."
Gu Qingxin said nothing, simply clutching the drawing board even tighter.
As the two faced off, Beiming Han eventually relented. He sat down and said, "Fine, you can work, but you've just been discharged, please work less, no more than two hours a day."
"It's not necessary. I'm not that fragile." Gu Qingxin replied faintly and continued drawing.
"Are you sure you want to keep doing this?" Beiming Han's expression also changed.
"..."
