"Or perhaps, a mother missed her daughters and thus she drew all her three daughters on the same picture to express her feelings of missing." Feng Yuran smiled slightly and reached out to hold Mo Xuetong tightly in his arms. There was a hint of thought at the corners of his lips. He glanced at the painting on the table with a trace of ridicule in his voice.
"Your mother was painted in such details. Such an expression was drawn in such a detailed way. One was unable to draw it without seeing her in person."
His words immediately made Mo Xuetong's suspicions, which had lasted for many days, collapse. Mo Xuetong was stunned. She turned around in his arms hurriedly and asked anxiously, "Do you really think that only the one who had seen her could draw such an expression?"
As she spoke, her voice trembled a little because she was too anxious.
