Outside the gate of the Ardis Police Departnt.
Vivian Sinclair sat in the car. As soon as Aaron Shields hurried out, he spotted her.
He walked over. "Vivian, why are you here?"
"Could it be that the so-called Special Assistant Linden and the team of lawyers he brought... were all arranged by you?"
Vivian imdiately got out of the car. "Uncle Greenshire, how is my ntor?"
"This Mr. Linden really is here to help handle my ntor’s affairs. You can rest assured; matters handled by him are in safe hands."
Aaron Shields also seed quite convinced about this matter.
"Although us old folks know quite a few lawyers, admittedly this team today is just more capable."
"Right now the lawyers are already negotiating with the police."
"Your teacher is really caught up in this ordeal by pure misfortune."
"That Jordan Vance wrote a suicide note before dying, claiming your ntor and others drove him to the edge."
"But there’s still no direct evidence, so your ntor will be fine."
Vivian let out a sigh of relief.
"As long as my ntor is alright."
"This whole thing happened because of , and ended up dragging my ntor in."
"Uncle Greenshire, do you know what exactly happened with this Jordan Vance?"
"How did he suddenly commit suicide?"
Aaron Shields: "After looking into it, it all started when President Thorne from The Thorne Group suddenly posted one of Jordan Vance’s paintings online."
"At first, when this painting was posted, nobody really noticed it—people actually paid more attention to the fact that President Thorne had made a rare appearance on social dia for once in a century."
"But soon after, people started exposing online that this painting was actually the piece Jordan Vance used to compete against W a year ago. It was that win which made W retreat from the art scene—another star lost."
"So everyone flocked online to marvel at the painting. But the mont they took a closer look, it was a shock. Soon enough, soone unearthed that this painting really didn’t resemble his style at all!"
"There are plenty of online sleuths these days; no detail escapes netizens. Many professionals quickly concluded Jordan Vance had cheated. Not only was it not his work, it actually belonged to his ntor."
"After that, President Thorne posted your tiger painting."
"Vivian, do you know what it ans for President Thorne to post two personal remarks in one day?"
"The whole internet went wild. People started speculating about his intentions."
"They said he must’ve noticed sothing shady and posted it to let the public judge."
"Plus, I just learned the one who bought that painting back then was President Thorne himself."
"Looks like he’s a loyal fan of yours—standing up for you, speaking out for your injustice, huh?"
When Aaron Shields looked at Vivian at this point, his eyes were full of comfort.
This kid finally caught a bit of luck; otherwise, who knows how much longer she would’ve had to swallow those grievances.
A trace of embarrassnt appeared on Vivian’s face. "I wouldn’t call him a fan. There’s just a bit of artistic connection between and Mr. Thorne."
Aaron Shields nodded, not wanting to probe into young people’s matters.
He went on, "This situation got more and more heated in one day, eventually shooting to the top of the trending searches and staying there for a full day."
"By afternoon, Jordan Vance’s school published a statent, admitting that he’d stolen his ntor’s painting to compete against W in an unfair match, claiming they knew nothing and apologizing deeply to W."
"The results from that competition were basically invalidated within the industry, and Jordan Vance’s school expelled him."
"Good kid, I suppose you’ve already found out? You really suffered a lot back then—why did you keep it to yourself and go compete alone?"
"At least now you’ve cleared your na and can pick up the brush again."
Vivian knew it was Julian Thorne who did a lot behind the scenes this ti. She already told herself: when it ca to Stella, she would absolutely repay him without holding back.
If not, she really wouldn’t deserve his help this ti.
Aaron Shields: "In a single day, Jordan Vance was ruined."
"Maybe he just couldn’t take it. This morning, he left a suicide note—confessing it was all his own fault, but also saying Fiona Rhodes’s faction pushed him to this point. After writing that, he jumped to his death from the rooftop."
Vivian: "Even on the verge of death he dragged Master into it! If he hadn’t acted so despicably and shalessly, why would my teacher’s faction have condemned him?"
"Oh right, Uncle Greenshire, do you know if Master really t with him yesterday?"
Aaron’s expression changed slightly. "Your teacher did et him."
"But she was accompanied by your two other senior apprentices and a senior sister. So there’s no proof your ntor saw him alone."
"There shouldn’t be any trouble, right?"
Vivian thought for a mont. "I don’t think so. And even if there is, we have a legal team—no need for you to worry."
Vivian’s words were undoubtedly a reassurance for Aaron.
"You’ve always been capable. Are you going to wait for your ntor to co out?"
Vivian certainly wanted to see her teacher.
She beca Fiona Rhodes’s youngest formal disciple at thirteen.
Fiona doted on her deeply, caring for Vivian as if she were her own daughter.
She basically taught her hand in hand—how to outline, how to use color, how to go from a wild, self-taught amateur to a true artist.
But her ntor had also suddenly turned hostile overnight, not leaving a single word for Vivian before moving abroad with the whole family.
Before leaving, Vivian got wind of it. Devastated and anxious, she rushed to the airport hoping to ask when her teacher would return—she didn’t even dare ask why she was being treated that way.
Vivian rembered it vividly—Fiona Rhodes gave her a look of utter disgust at the ti.
Yes, disgust.
She was only seventeen then.
She understood her ntor’s look, stood frozen where she was, motionless, her breath caught painfully in her chest.
At the sa ti, her still-immature heart suffered a serious blow and setback.
It beca a trauma buried deep inside.
So, even though Fiona returned, Vivian still shook her head.
"Master won’t want to see ."
She turned and got into the car, leaving.
Aaron Shields could only sigh helplessly. "Why must master and disciple tornt each other like this?"
After Fiona Rhodes left the police station, Aaron still told her he’d seen Vivian.
"You ca back to have her back, which proves that she still matters to you."
"And when you were in trouble, she went all out to help you. Obviously she still cares, too."
"You left without saying goodbye—planning never to see her again?"
"Fiona, what did Vivian do back then that you had to be so resolute?"
"Do you know that once you left, your disciples in the school treated her coldly? They all assud Vivian made a mistake and drove you away."
"That kid—she just toughed it out all by herself. But you’ve seen what’s in her paintings—the wound inside her is like a festering hole."
"Later she had that nasty falling out with Tris over marriage, and the Sinclair Family still refused to accept her."
"Fiona, this poor child. Don’t be so cruel."
As Aaron spoke, Fiona’s eyes reddened.
"Enough."
"Whatever happened back then, just count it as my fault to her."
With that, Fiona still refused to say more, turning on her heel and striding away.
Because of Fiona, Vivian never managed to get dinner with Tina Archer.
Fortunately Tina wasn’t angry—she only urged her not to overwork, and promised she’d personally look through every page of the divorce agreent before delivering it next ti.
So Vivian rushed to Crestfall Villa before dark.
When Stella Thorne heard she was back, she’d just been sulking, splattering paint all over the room. But the mont she heard, she dropped everything and joyfully dashed downstairs.
"Sister Sinclair!"
Stella nearly pounced on her like a bear.
Thankfully, Butler Turner darted out swiftly, intercepting Stella’s hug.
"Miss, you need to be gentle."
"Otherwise Miss Sinclair will get scared off."
The words worked instantly.
Stella looked like a colorful mud doll, teetering on one foot, visibly aggrieved.
"Sister Sinclair, why haven’t you co back for three days?"
"Brother promised you’d be back to keep company soon."
"Sister Sinclair, is it because I wasn’t well-behaved and you don’t want to paint with anymore?"
Vivian took Stella’s hand. "How could that be? I just had so things to take care of the past few days."
"If I didn’t like you, why would I still hurry back before dark just to have dinner with you?"
"But first, let’s get ourselves cleaned up—no matter how safe the paints are, they’ll affect our health if we leave them on. Sister Sinclair likes only healthy kids."
"So, Stella’s going to be the healthiest little one, right?"
Stella: "Right~!"
Vivian led Stella off to bathe.
Lina Holloway was nearly moved to tears.
"Truman, did you see that?"
"Every ti Miss sees Miss Sinclair, she gets better and better."
"She’s just like a sweet, obedient child now."
"Not a shadow of our little troublemaker, huh?"
"Hurry, I need to call President Thorne!"
Excited, Lina quickly pulled out her phone and dialed. "Hello, President Thorne? Miss Sinclair is back, and the change in Miss..."
Lina chattered on and on, truly excited.
At that mont, in the city center’s tallest building, inside the top-floor CEO’s office—
Julian Thorne had long since put his work aside and listened intently to every word Lina said.
Gradually, the tiredness in his brow vanished completely.
A hint of tenderness appeared in his eyes.
A faintly gratified smile rose on his face.
"Have the kitchen cook so nourishing dishes for Miss Sinclair."
"Also, prepare more snacks for her, in case she gets hungry at night."
After instructing these two tasks, Julian ended the call.
The office door was knocked on.
Special Assistant Linden ca in with an insulated container.
"Master Julian, Madam brought this stew herself this afternoon. You should drink it while it’s hot."
"The secretarial office hasn’t co in to disturb you at all. As for this..."
Julian was a little surprised, as his mother rarely did things like this.
"She just left after dropping it off?"
Special Assistant Linden: "She was worried about disturbing you and told the secretarial office not to inform you. She waited outside for half an hour, and only left when she saw you still didn’t co out."
"Madam still cares about you."
Thinking of Stella’s improvent, Julian’s heart was moved.
"Pour it into a bowl."
Leo Linden poured the soup into a bowl.
He saw it was still steaming, so he handed it to Julian.
After drinking the soup, Julian soon felt sothing wrong with his body.
He tugged at his collar, feeling hotter and hotter.
Julian glanced at the empty bowl, and his eyes grew suddenly cold.
He’d been set up by his own mother!
"Leo, drive back to Crestfall Villa yourself."
"Now!"
Reviews
All reviews (0)