This group chat existed even before Moira Sloan beca an apprentice.
It had been around for years, you could say.
In terms of seniority, it even outranked Moira.
Before his death, Kain Alden had taken on five apprentices. Aside from Finn Fuller, who was expelled, the other four were all in the group.
When she first joined, she thought that since she was the only woman among four n and was so delicate-looking, she would surely be the darling of the group.
But she never imagined her fellow apprentices would be so bizarre. They had no concept of chivalry and didn’t treat her like a woman at all. When there was work to be done, they really put her to it.
Especially during her early, clueless days as an apprentice, they treated her like a workhorse.
Oh, well, except for her eldest fellow apprentice, of course.
Snapping back to the present, Moira Sloan’s eyes narrowed slightly as she saw an avatar suddenly pop up.
’Did Lillian Kidd put him up to this?’
After all, Lillian Kidd had ntioned several tis recently that she should ask her eldest fellow apprentice to help her prove her innocence.
Though she had no particular fondness for him, basic courtesy was still required. Her fingertip tapped the screen: Thank you, senior.
The reply ca: Mm.
’So cold?’
His attitude couldn’t help but remind her of soone.
Thinking of him, Moira Sloan’s eyes narrowed. ’That bastard. He actually set a trap for .’
The group chat fell silent the mont her eldest fellow apprentice appeared.
Moira Sloan knew why. She left the group chat and created a new, smaller one, adding Rowan Churchill and Caleb Lockwood.
Moira Sloan: You two are such cowards.
Rowan Churchill: I call it being tactful.
Caleb Lockwood: I call it picking my battles.
anwhile, after replying to Moira Sloan, Connor Quinn stared at his phone screen, lost in thought for a long ti.
After a long mont, he made a phone call.
Once the call connected, he said in a deep voice, "About the judge position you ntioned a couple of days ago—I’ll do it."
The person on the other end was both surprised and delighted. "Mr. Quinn, thank you so much! It’s an honor for the contestants and the organizers to have you. Please, if you have any requests, just na them."
Connor Quinn said, "I’ll be there, but I won’t make a public appearance."
The man’s tone grew hesitant. "Well..."
"Is that a problem?" Connor Quinn asked, his voice turning cold.
Sensing the chill in Connor Quinn’s tone, the man quickly backpedaled with an apologetic laugh. "Not at all, not at all. In that case, Mr. Quinn, can we ntion you in our promotional materials?"
It was a competition, after all.
Competitions these days weren’t about discovering talent like they used to be. Now, they were completely comrcialized, designed only to make money.
The fundantal principle never changed.
You needed a gimmick to generate buzz, and you needed buzz to make money.
"You can," Connor Quinn said.
The man was ecstatic. "Excellent, excellent! Mr. Quinn, when will you be coming to Atheria? I can arrange accommodations for you, what do you think..."
"No need," Connor Quinn cut in coolly. "I have a place to stay."
Not daring to say more, the man simply agreed, "Understood, understood."
anwhile, Moira Sloan left her hotel and took a taxi to a teahouse to et soone.
The person she was eting looked to be about twenty-five or twenty-six, wearing a pair of thick, black-frad glasses. She was bare-faced and had a timid, hesitant air about her.
Upon seeing Moira Sloan, the young woman shot to her feet, head bowed respectfully as she murmured, "Moira Sloan."
Moira Sloan smiled at her and gestured for her to sit down, then turned to ask the server to bring them tea.
Once the tea had been served and the server had left the private room, Moira looked at the young woman with a faint smile. "Have you made up your mind?"
The young woman’s cheeks flushed, and her eyes darted about nervously.
Moira wasn’t in a hurry. She picked up the teacup before her, idly spinning it in her hand as she spoke with a captivating smile, "I don’t know why you entered this field, but for , besides my passion for it and not wanting to see our cultural heritage fade away, there’s another reason: I want to make a na for myself."
Moira Sloan made no effort to hide her ambition, and the young woman looked up at her in astonishnt.
Moira’s lips curved into a smile. "I’ve never considered ’ambitious’ to be a dirty word. As long as you have the skill, and as long as you’ve earned your position, why settle for being at the bottom when you have what it takes to be at the top?"
Hearing Moira’s words, sothing flickered in the young woman’s eyes.
Moira sipped her tea, a slight smirk on her red lips as she continued persuasively, "I’m the kind of person who wears her ambition on her sleeve. Others might want to see fall into the dirt, but I’m determined to be like a trumpet vine, climbing proudly over the highest wall."
The young woman was clearly moved. "Moira Sloan... but she’s my master, after all. I’m afraid of what people in the industry will say..."
Moira said, "If we take her down, I can be your master. Follow . I can’t make any other guarantees, but I promise you’ll learn far more from than you ever would from her. And another thing: under , your na will be on your work. Whether you have the skill is up to you, but if you do, I will never let your talent go to waste."
The young woman looked down, wrestling with the decision for a mont. When she looked up again, her gaze was resolute. Gripping the teacup in front of her, she said, "Moira Sloan, I’m willing to work with you."
’Heaven knows she’d been an apprentice under Rachel Yates for seven years. She’d created so many brilliant pieces of lacquerware, only to have Rachel Yates sign her own na to them.’
With an agreent reached, Moira Sloan gave the young woman a gentle smile. "Anson, drink your tea."
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