In the editorial department of Daxuan Minbao, Wei Yan raised his head and looked at the golden hairpins in the sky who came out of the painting. His jaw dropped to the ground and he forgot to pick it up.
"Cao Xueqin...is he really my junior uncle?"
"I knew it! I knew it!"
"In the whole world, who else can write a book like "Dream of Red Mansions"!"
At this moment, Wei Yan suddenly felt countless eyes looking at him.