Chapter 47: Buying a Fake Painting

After dinner with Suzie, Ethan quietly settled the bill himself. As he calculated his remaining funds, he realized that if all his ongoing projects were completed and the bills paid, his money would be nearly gone. The thought made him sigh — money seemed to slip away faster than he could earn it.

As he mulled over his finances, the rumble of a truck broke his train of thought. The bridge hadn't been repaired yet — so how did a truck get across? Curious, Ethan hurried outside and saw Marcus stepping out of the car.

"Marcus! How did you get the truck here?" Ethan asked, surprised.

Marcus chuckled. "Boss Ethan, our crew worked overnight to build a temporary bridge. It's not pretty, but it'll hold. Cars and trucks can cross without a problem now."

Ethan was impressed. Their efficiency was astounding.

Under Ethans instructions, the workers quickly erected a temporary house — three bedrooms, a living area, a kitchen, and a small guard post. Ethan moved his and Suzie's belongings into his ring's space, leaving only a few essentials for the workers to carry.

Once everything was settled, Ethan busied himself preparing lunch. As the food neared completion, he worried Suzie might not find their new location, so he sent Blackie to fetch her.

Whiskers, the little flower-patterned cat, rarely left Blackie's side. The moment Blackie set off, Whiskers meowed loudly and pounced onto his back, riding him like a tiny queen. The sight of the black dog trotting through the village with a cat perched on his back drew laughter from the locals.

Natalie didn't join them for lunch that day. After all, her house was nearby, and she didn't want to intrude too often.

Once they finished eating, Ethan drove his old blue pickup truck to Purple City. His first stop was a lumberyard, where he picked out quality wood and arranged for it to be loaded onto his truck. Afterward, he visited the market, stocking up on poultry and vegetable seeds, tucking them away into his ring's hidden space.

As he left the market, an antique shop caught his eye. Since he was building a new house, he figured a decorative painting might brighten things up.

The shop was dim and smelled faintly of old paper. An elderly man, sat behind the counter, spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose as he idly watched television. When Ethan entered, the old man's eyes lit up.

"Welcome, young man! Looking for something special?" the old man greeted him with a practiced grin. "I've got genuine antiques here — rare treasures you won't find anywhere else."

Ethan chuckled. "I'm just looking for a decorative painting for my new house. Nothing fancy, just a nice imitation."

The old man's enthusiasm deflated. "Ah, imitations, is it? Suit yourself. Have a look." He gestured lazily toward the rows of paintings.

Ethan browsed patiently. Even if it was just for decoration, he wanted something he liked. Most of the paintings were obvious knockoffs — crude strokes, dull colors. Still, he eventually found one that caught his eye: a rendition of The Peach Blossom Nunnery by Edgar Whitmore.

"How much for this one?" Ethan asked, pointing at the piece.

Blake squinted at it. "Oh, that one? Some desperate fellow sold it to me for eight thousand. The imitation is rough, and the corner is a bit damaged, but I'll let you have it for ten thousand."

Ethan glanced at the old man, sensing the exaggeration, but he didn't feel like haggling. "Fine. Wrap it up."

The old man blinked in surprise. "No bargaining? Well, alright then!" He shuffled over, carefully rolling up the painting and tying it with twine.

As Ethan reached for the painting, a strange sensation washed over him. The moment his fingers brushed the canvas, an inexplicable uneasiness stirred in his chest — a mix of restlessness, excitement, and loneliness. He frowned.

That's odd… He let go of the painting, and the feeling vanished. Picking it up again, the strange emotions returned.

This isn't normal… Ethan thought. He carefully placed the painting on the counter and once again, the sensation disappeared. Something about this painting was… different.

The old man paid no mind, too busy counting his freshly earned ten thousand yuan. "Good eye, kid. Even if it's a fake, you can brag to folks back home that you spent a fortune on it. They'll believe you."

Ethan forced a polite smile, tucking the painting under his arm. Whatever was hidden within this painting, he intended to find out.

As he left the shop, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the street. Ethan glanced at the rolled canvas once more, a quiet thrill running down his spine.

There's more to you than meets the eye…

And he would uncover its secrets — soon enough.