At the end of October, the autumn wind swept over the mountain. The rustling sound of leaves was created by nature. The red maple leaves were like fire, and were about to burn over the rolling hills.
The North Mountain was verdant, and there were banyan trees. A castle like a osmanthus palace rose from the ground and stood in the mountain.
Once upon a time, the North Yard was a place to live for John. Now, the North Yard was his home for Nina. The lush banyan trees were like guards, guarding the princess who was about to move in the castle for him.
After the castle was expanded in the North Yard, Helen became the housekeeper of the North Yard. She recruited a large number of servants to perform their own duties in a uniform.
The thirty-seven people who had been responsible for guarding John were transferred from the dark to the light and responsible for the security of the entire North Yard.
Everyone wore a black mini camera on their ears, which could make a wireless call. And Richard was in the monitoring room to overall everything.
The castle occupied almost half of the mountain, and the first gate to the North Yard was built at the mountainside.
Normally, they could drive to the gate of the castle, but today, all the cars could only arrive at the first gate. The guests had to walk eight hundred meters to reach the wedding venue set in the castle
of vigorous words on the white paper.
Pointing at the words, Victor asked, "Master Tim, what's on it? Why don't I understand it? It's just like ghost painting symbols."
"What ghost painting symbols? This is a script. Shut up if you don't understand. It's a painting of his wife's Nina, which was drawn by Mr. Shi for his wife," said Tim, patting on the back of Victor's head.
Victor touched the back of his head and began to flatter, "Master Tim, you are so smart that you even know this."
Ignoring Victor, Tim walked to the right pillar. Inside the frame was a water color oil painting, on which the person was John.
Pointing at a line of beautiful handwriting, Victor said proudly, "I know the handwriting this time, it read, 'My hero John'. It seems that the painting here is given to Mr. Shi by his wife."
"It's their story." Walking to the front of the second oil painting, Tim looked at it for a while and then looked at the second one on the left. "It's really the story of the two of them, two versions of the painting."
Victor said, "I really don't understand what the rich think. Why do they draw two?"
"Even rich people may not do that."
Victor immediately corrected himself, "I really don't understand the thoughts of cultural people."
Tim was speechless.
Tim looked at the gallery on both sides and suddenly felt an unprecedented admiration.
New novel 𝓬hapters are published on (f)reeweb(n)ovel.com