A Painting Worth Seven Figures

Gu Xiqiao wasn't aware of the thoughts that were running through Tang Qinghong's mind. Rolling her eyes, she turned to look out at the yard.

Tang Qinghong had yet to finish arranging the items in his hand, and he had never felt more embarrassed than he was now in his life. When this was all over, he was going to return to Jing Capital and remove his seals immediately, this feeling was really humiliating!

"What's wrong with my house?" Gu Xiqiao asked, still looking around. She glanced at the setting sun and the reddish-orange sky as she took out the bamboo tube from last night. "I don't feel anything."