Lin Ke's life now consists of battle, rest, battle, rest, missing his wife and son, battle, rest...
Dull and boring.
With more idle time, it is only natural that his hands start to itch.
Not just novels.
Painting, writing songs, tinkering with small inventions and such.
Do whatever he wants!
Lin Ke returned to his rest chamber and then took out his paintbrush.
Writing a novel is a lengthy process, but painting is more convenient.
Lin Ke took out a fine piece of Azanen Paper, gripped the deep blue pen, and began sketching directly.
Skill—Painting!
His eyes emitted a faint white light, and his arm danced.
No planning, no drafting, just letting the spirit guide him.
In other words, random doodling.
Yet these spontaneous drawings can utterly depict his mood.
They not only serve as practice but also slightly ease his vexed emotions.
"Swish, swish—"
The deep blue pen dances on the paper, sketching vibrant lines, which form a picture.
Each line reveals Lin Ke's emotions.
