Chapter 694: Mother... Is She Still Alive?

Sean Grant provocatively glanced at Adrian Law, the mockery in his expression was evident without words.

Strangely enough, Sean Grant was clearly a guy, but under the setting sun, his lips—opening and closing—were as crimson as blood, with a texture that made one want to kiss them.

Cecilia Vaughn saw Sean Grant and Adrian Law standing together in the same frame; despite the palpable tension, her inner fujoshi soul ignited, almost tempting her to join the head-pushing brigade.

After two seconds, she suddenly felt like giving herself a good thumping.

Pairing her husband with another man, even if the other party was extremely attractive, was just unacceptable!

...

Cecilia briefly despised her own face-oriented nature for two seconds, but quickly took the painting from Adrian Law’s hand with firm yet dignified voice.

"Grant, although you like to belittle your own work, or maybe you call it humility, my husband and I find this painting quite remarkable."

"Remarkable? Do you really think so?"

Sean Grant obviously missed the point, his eyes blazing as he stared at Cecilia Vaughn, as if she wasn’t a human but a tiramisu exuding aroma under the sunset.

The description is a bit odd.

But in Sean Grant’s eyes, Cecilia Vaughn was akin to a sacrificial offering that would make a vampire reveal its fangs.

Having a sip would surely be unbelievably sweet and delightful...

...

This insidious desire burned within him, yet he inexplicably had no solution.

...

Cecilia Vaughn didn’t understand what Sean Grant was thinking, but his gaze was too straightforward, so she quietly took two more steps towards Adrian Law.

"Adrian..."

For some reason, Adrian Law didn’t get angry or jealous today, but gracefully took Cecilia Vaughn’s hand and pointed to the artwork.

"Grant, you’re from Cecilia’s class, so I’ll refer to you as a classmate. You think your work is rubbish, but Cecilia and I still have our aesthetic sense online. If you don’t trust us, why not have the artists here evaluate it, how about it?"

"???"

Can you do that?

Cecilia Vaughn looked at Adrian Law in bewilderment. Adrian Law had come to the art gallery originally to find someone to appraise this painting, but saying such a thing in front of the creator, was it really appropriate?

...

Perhaps everyone harbors a certain degree of insensitivity, and Sean Grant was certainly no exception.

He quickly agreed to the request.

If Cecilia Vaughn had to say, anyone with eyes could see the extraordinary finesse of Sean Grant’s painting.

After all, this painting blended realism and abstract styles, with a few alluring touches of wonder.

Bloodshed and murder, even under a painter’s brush, can be beautiful.

Beautiful in an eerie way, beautiful that leaves people regrettably entranced.

...

Cecilia Vaughn walked alongside Adrian Law, who was fluent in French, and directly approached a long-haired painter gazing at the scenery nearby.

"Sir, could you spare a few moments to review this painting in my hand? From its coloration and style, does it strike you as ordinary or as an outstanding work?"

Cecilia Vaughn almost mistook the long-haired painter for a woman when looking at his back, but when he turned around.

Wow.

What a chap.

Turned out to be a middle-aged male painter with chestnut brown waves.

Fine, seen plenty of backview killers, but such a male backview killer is still rare.

...

Cecilia Vaughn’s thoughts ran astray, but seeing the long-haired painter’s face change to amazement upon seeing the painting Adrian Law was holding.

"Oh my God, which elf was talented enough to create this painting? It’s incredible; the brushwork is seamless, and the color transition is near perfect."

The long-haired male painter gazed in fascination at the artwork in Adrian Law’s hand.

Adrian Law frowned, then glanced at Sean Grant with some calculations, searching for an answer.

"Grant, when you painted this, did you ever experience a block of inspiration, or was it truly a smooth creation from start to finish?"

Cecilia Vaughn weakly raised her hand beside him.

"I can testify for Sean Grant; he painted it very seamlessly, almost without needing to think."

Crushed by such non-human excellence, Cecilia Vaughn accepted her defeat wholeheartedly.

At the art department’s annual appraisal of new students’ excellent works, Cecilia Vaughn was also shortlisted, but she only took second place because Sean Grant’s work was in the forefront.

First place had a prize of ten thousand, second place only half, five thousand; at the time, Cecilia Vaughn’s deskmate Bella Prescott chattered in protest for a long time, feeling Cecilia’s painting was prettier and more perfect.

Not feeling less impressive than Sean Grant’s.

But ever since Cecilia saw Sean Grant paint on the ferry, she completely shut up.

She could only produce such a flow of thought when her inspiration burst, and given the style deviation, she couldn’t guarantee stability in color transitions.

Yet Sean Grant was entirely different.

He was like a machine finely tuned by God’s precision; each stroke was appropriate with no flaws to pick.

This bestowed work, with nearly divergent beauty, was also sharp.

Just like Sean Grant himself, enough to wound others.

...

Adrian Law, upon knowing Sean Grant painted the moonlight scene flawlessly, suddenly lost interest, and after asking a few other passing artists, he temporarily let go of confronting Sean Grant.

His initial suspicion of Sean Grant stemmed from the coincidence of Chloe Alden’s death; though he couldn’t claim no suspicion at all now, he could at least prove one thing.

Sean Grant was entirely focused on this painting while on the ferry.

It’s hard for anyone planning murder to not be distracted; even a deity couldn’t be so precise.

Unless Sean Grant was cold-blooded to a certain extent.

Yet, judging by Sean Grant’s attitude toward Cecilia Vaughn, he didn’t seem completely devoid of feelings.

...

Adrian Law lost interest in keeping the painting; he transferred it to that long-haired passerby, while Sean Grant, seeing Adrian’s generous gift, just pursed his lips slightly and carried his painting tools away.

—The discarded thing, even being its creator, he was long unqualified to remark on its fate.

...

"Adrian, don’t be disheartened; in fact, I’ve always thought Sean Grant was not very suspicious. After all, who would be bored enough to kill an unrelated stranger?"

Cecilia Vaughn was saying, when suddenly, she saw a boat glide under the bridge.

She saw a woman’s side profile in a wheelchair.

It happened in a blink, but Cecilia Vaughn’s heart uncontrollably raced.

It’s too alike!

Her mother!

Was it a hallucination caused by stress?