In the master bedroom, Xu He and Xia Yuzheng had also retired to their room early.
Xu He had set up an easel on the large balcony of the room.
She hadn't touched this easel for a long time, and when she moved it out of the storage today, there was a thin layer of dust on it.
Spread out beside her was a range of earth-toned oil paints.
Xu He wore a rather professional leather apron, speckled with dots of paint. Her long hair was tied back, making her profile look very young.
You couldn't tell at all that she was already the mother of four children.
She was painting her most beloved Little Tiangao, dressed in yesterday's skirt.
This time, she didn't need to call Little Tiangao to pose as a model; her image was already etched in Xu He's mind.
Xia Yuzheng leaned against the headboard reading documents, but he hadn't turned a page for a long time. His gaze unconsciously fell on his wife, and he couldn't focus on anything else.