The milk group of the five big guys spit milk

Zhao Ziquan?
Jiang Mianmian showed a small head from behind the vassal Yuan. If she remembered correctly, Zhao Ziquan was Mo Du's teacher, right?
The person inside is Modu?
She rolled her eyes strangely, wanting to know the answer. There is nothing more effective than confirming it in person. The room is close at hand. Jiang Mianmian stood on tiptoe, and under the plain gaze of Feng Chenyuan, she held the doorknob and pressed it hard. down.

There was a crisp sound of "click".

The door was opened, revealing two entangled men in the room.

They were both lying on the ground, the thin man almost tried his best to press down on the fat man, his clenched fists were ruthlessly hitting the fat man's face, he had an unshaven beard and gloomy eyes Hostility, as if holding the determination to die, wanting to die with the enemy.

Jiang Mianmian blinked her eyes and was a little dazed for a while.

"Don't fight!" she yelled.

But the two who were immersed in mutual torment did not realize the existence of Jiang Mianmian, a little radish, and they were still inseparable from each other.

Seeing this, Jiang Mianmian sighed quietly, looked around with big eyes, picked up the cup on the table and went to the bathroom.

A glass of cold water comes slowly.

"I come!"

Feng Chenyuan took the cup full of cold water from Jiang Mianmian's hand, walked up to the two of them calmly, and poured it on their heads without hesitation!

With a "wow", a burst of cold water vapor splashed from the marble floor.

The two who almost lost their minds finally came back to their senses, and looked at the vassal Yuan blankly.

"You..." The man's voice was hoarse.

"If you continue to make trouble, more people will come!" Feng Chenyuan warned slowly.

Hearing this, the face of the fat man who was beaten changed, he hurriedly pushed the thin man away, stood up, straightened his embarrassed suit, and frowned as a warning.

"Your wife, a tuberculosis ghost, will not survive. I warn you, if you continue to make trouble, I will make it impossible for you to survive in China! Take your painting and get out!"

The thin man clenched his fists and stared at Zhao Ziquan resentfully, his eyes were red.

"Uncle Fat, did you steal his painting?" Seeing that the man was about to charge forward again, Jiang Mianmian looked at Zhao Ziquan decisively.

Zhao Ziquan panicked, and he was slightly relieved when he realized that there was a child in front of him.

"Whose child are you, this is not a place for you to come, hurry up and get out!"

He tried to expel Jiang Mianmian with a bad tone.

Jiang Mianmian is not afraid, she opened her big black and white eyes, and said with a smile: "Uncle Fat, I am a child of the Jiang family, if you touch me, my big brother will make it hard for you to live in China !"

Zhao Ziquan: "..."

Damn broken child!To block him with his words?
"Uncle was just joking with you!" He gritted his teeth and smirked, enduring his violent temper.

"I don't like uncle's jokes at all!" Jiang Mianmian pouted and asked curiously, "Fat uncle, you haven't answered me yet. Did you really steal his painting?"

"no!"

Zhao Ziquan let out a low drink, raised his feet and left with serious eyes.

Jiang Mianmian heard his hurried footsteps gradually dissipating, and then looked at Mo Du, who was squatting on the ground with a smile, clutching her hair tightly with both hands, dripping with tears.

"Uncle, wipe your snot!"

A waxy and soft voice rang in his ears, and his face was covered with tears from crying. Modu, who was holding back the embarrassment, paused, and slowly raised his head.

What came into his eyes was a piece of white paper towel, and then a fleshy child's hand. He looked along the forearm that looked like a lotus root joint, and saw a cute and soft little girl, serious Looking at her, without sympathy, just curiosity.

"Uncle, if you cry at this age, you will be laughed at by children!"

The little girl smiled innocently.

If he and his wife's child can be born, will it be as cute as the little girl in front of him?

Mo Du's gloomy expression dissipated by two points, and his eyes softened slightly. He didn't want to be so embarrassed in front of the little girl, so he hurriedly took the tissue and wiped away the tears on his face.

"Thank you, little girl!" He thanked muffledly, and stood up while supporting his body like a bamboo pole.

His wife is still waiting for the medical expenses, so he can't stay silent any longer, so he has to find a way to sell the painting for money. Originally, he finally found a relationship to send his painting to the Celadon Fair, but he didn't expect to be discovered by that scumbag Zhao Ziquan.

If he sees that scum again, he must... must kill him!

His gaze was so dark and hot, as if it was a silent volcano about to spew out human-eating energy.

Let Jiang Mianmian easily see the cruelty and pain in his calm.

"Uncle, is that your painting?"

Jiang Mianmian pointed to the painting that was properly placed on the bed not far away. It was a realistic painting, the style of the painting was dark and eerily cold, and the only touch of red was the core of the whole painting, and it was also Mo Du's only redemption.

Mordo nodded quietly.

"Can you sell it to me? I like it very much!"

"Can……"

Modu's surprise came unexpectedly, but after only a moment, he bit his lip hard.

"Children, this painting is not suitable for children to read. If you like painting, you can consider the painting called "The Sun" outside!"

Hearing this, Jiang Mianmian's crescent-shaped eyes lit up: "But I like the one you drew!"

She turned her head to look at Feng Chenyuan: "Yuanyuan, uncle's paintings are very beautiful, aren't they?"

The vassal Yuan raised his eyebrows, and saw through Jiang Mianmian's plan almost at a glance. The little girl may have the intention of finding mistakes, but she really wanted to help the man in front of her...Mo Du, known as the most talented realist painter in the 21st century , was miserable during his lifetime, experienced ups and downs, and committed suicide by throwing himself into the sea with his wife in his arms.

His paintings are colorful, but full of keen thinking and criticism of reality, and even integrate Chinese and foreign aesthetics to create his own style.

A painting is hard to find!

"Yes!" He nodded.

Beautiful!
Modu's eyes fell on the painting with the ruined sunset as the background color, and the corner of his mouth twitched sarcastically. The color was gorgeous, but it was blood-stained darkness.

He thought for a while, squatting in front of Jiang Mianmian: "Little friend, do you really want to buy this painting?"

"Yes!" Jiang Mianmian replied without hesitation.

Originally, she just wanted to pick up the leaks. Although she didn't know if Modu could become a genius painter if she bought his paintings, at least it could save the lives of two people, right?

"Uncle, don't you want to sell it to me? I can also hang Uncle's paintings in the corridor outside! Do you need my help?"

"Thank you, little girl, I can...sell the painting to you!" After all, Modu didn't say to give it away, because he didn't have the capital, his expression darkened, and he continued: "Just 50 is fine. Do you still want to buy it?"

50 is the wife's surgery fee!
Tomorrow is the deadline and he can't afford to wait!
But the strong sense of guilt made him hunched over, feeling like he couldn't breathe.

He stared at Jiang Mianmian helplessly, his eyes were filled with darkness, guilt and fear.

He is awaiting a sentencing.

But Jiang Mianmian tilted her head with a smile, and said softly: "50 is not enough, uncle's paintings are so beautiful, at least 1000 million!"