Suddenly, an elderly voice rang in Zhang Rongfang's ear.
He trembled slightly at the hidden presence, quickly turning his head to look behind him.
Unbeknownst to him, a figure was already standing there.
The figure was about a meter eighty tall, slightly shorter than him, but plump with a large belly, exuding an air of wealth.
It was unexpectedly the high-level old Daoist from the terrace just now.
"Hmm... very beautiful," Zhang Rongfang said against his real feelings.
To be honest, he found the woman's temperament decent, but as for her looks... she was just okay, not to the point of being very beautiful.
Of course, seeing the old man's expression, it was clear he was fawning over her, so naturally, he couldn't speak words that would be a slap in the face.
"Beautiful indeed. She was a friend from my youth," the old Daoist sighed.
"Alas, as I got older, I began to reflect on the past. So I casually painted a few paintings to pass the time."
