What Would You Do If Lin Jingxuan Wasn't Around Anymore?

The butler, who was standing behind the elderly, nodded quietly and proceeded to scroll up the painting. A few years ago, a good friend of the old master had gifted the old man an ink painting depicting hundreds of shrimps. That painting would have taken the whole art world by storm if it had been on display. It had been a gift from his master's first love, so it was definitely priceless. Even someone like him, who often followed the old man day in and out, could tell that the painting given to him by his granddaughter-in-law was a counterfeit. The texture of the watercolor paper alone already indicated that something was amiss about this piece of artwork.

"Who did you say she was again?" Old Master Lin asked, looking cold and stern.

Lin Jingxuan took a look at Gu Feirou and replied, "She's my wife."