Chapter 48: The Wheat Field Crow

Don squinted at the painting through a magnifying glass, studying it for half an hour before finally tossing the tool aside. "Ugh, my eyes are sore. There's nothing strange about this painting — it must be your imagination. When I bought my first piece, I felt the same way. Uneasy. Excited. Convinced I'd stumbled upon a priceless gem. It's just the thrill of the chase."

Ethan handed him a cigarette, shaking his head. "No, Don. My feeling was different. You bought your painting hoping it was real — like buying a lottery ticket. I, on the other hand, bought this purely for decoration. The strange feeling only hit me after I touched the canvas."

As he spoke, his gaze drifted back to the painting. Suddenly, his eyes widened. "Wait a minute…" He grabbed the magnifying glass and leaned in, focusing on the torn corner of the canvas. "Don, look at this! The painting has two layers!"

Don's hand trembled as he extinguished his cigarette and snatched the magnifying glass back. His eyes lit up with excitement. Without a word, he rummaged through his bag, pulling out five small bottles filled with different colored liquids. Pouring a portion of each into an empty container, he mixed them into a clear solution.

"What is that?" Ethan asked curiously.

"Restoration fluid," Don said with a grin. "It's used for separating old layers of paint. If there's something hidden underneath, this will reveal it."

Dipping a fine brush into the liquid, Don carefully applied it to the damaged corner. Slowly, the solution seeped into the canvas, loosening the top layer. After a minute, Don handed Ethan a corner of the painting. "Hold this."

Ethan obeyed, watching as Don dripped more solution into the gap. The process was painstaking — drop after drop soaked into the fibers. Half an hour later, Don finally sat back, lighting another cigarette with shaking hands. "Alright… time to witness a miracle."

With a deep breath, Don grasped the top layer and gently peeled it away. The fake Peach Blossom Nunnery slipped off effortlessly, revealing the painting hidden beneath.

A sprawling field of golden wheat stretched across the canvas, dark crows circling ominously in the stormy sky.

Don's cigarette nearly fell from his lips. "No way… The Wheat Field Crow."

Ethan frowned. "What the heck is this? It looks awful! If I'd known there was something this depressing underneath, I wouldn't have bothered."

Don gaped at him. "Are you serious?! This is Van Gogh's Wheatfield with Crows! It's rumored to be his final painting before he committed suicide. If this is real, Ethan, you're sitting on a goldmine. At auction, it could go for 400 to 500 million. Even selling directly to a collector, you could easily get 200 million!"

Ethan paled. "Ugh… no wonder I felt uneasy. So, it's the work of a guy who killed himself. I don't want it." He shoved the painting toward Kalvin. "Get it appraised. If it's genuine, find someone to buy it — and sell it cheap."

Don nearly choked. "Cheap?! Are you crazy?"

Ethan shrugged. "I was hoping for something festive to hang at home, not some cursed painting from a guy who offed himself. No thanks."

Don stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "You're unbelievable. Fine. I'll get Old Man Blake to appraise it. If it's real, I'll help sell it. What's your asking price?"

Ethan thought for a moment. "Two hundred million sounds fair."

Don gawked. "Two hundred million is 'cheap' to you?"

Ethan chuckled. "Just don't pay me all at once. At least half in cash."

Don blinked. "What do you need that much cash for?"

Ethan scratched his head sheepishly. "I dunno. Guess it just feels nice knowing I've got stacks of colorful bills lying around."

Don burst out laughing. "You're a real piece of work, Ethan. Alright, let's go celebrate — my treat!"

As they left with the painting carefully rolled up, Don made a mental note to stick close to Ethan. Whether it was art, farming, or pure dumb luck, Ethan had a knack for stumbling into fortune. Who knew what else he'd uncover next?

After Ethan and Don finished their meal, they drove to a jade shop. Ethan ended up buying over twenty jade bracelets, pendants, and rings in shades of red, purple, and green. The price was surprisingly low — the pieces were all low-grade, with cloudy textures and barely any translucence. None were of the coveted "ice" quality. Most of them were bean-green jade, dull and unremarkable.

But Ethan wasn't worried because he had his spiritual water which could transform anything under its touch.

Once home, he filled a large basin with the enchanted water and submerged the jade pieces, letting them soak and slowly absorb the energy. The water shimmered faintly as the stones rested, their future transformation already set in motion.

Not long after, the rumbling of engines echoed through the village. The convoy had arrived, delivering the load of wood Ethan had ordered.

After dinner, as the sky darkened, Ethan went outside to inspect the delivery. Taking a wooden ladle, he carefully sprinkled the spiritual water over the stacked logs. The moment the liquid touched the surface, the air filled with a soothing, fresh aroma — the wood seemed to hum with vitality, its essence subtly changed.

Satisfied with his work, Ethan headed back inside.

"Aiya, I'm so tired!" A playful voice called out as soon as he stepped through the door.

Suzie, fresh from her bath, was lounging on the couch in her pajamas, stretching like a contented cat. "Come over here and give me a massage. My shoulders are killing me."

Ethan chuckled. "You only worked one day, and you're already this tired?" Still, he walked over, rolling up his sleeves. Standing behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and let his Qi flow through his fingers, pressing into the right acupoints.

Suzie let out a soft moan. "Wow… that feels amazing. Harder… mm, no, not that hard… Ah! There, right there…"

Ethan's brow twitched. "Could you not make sounds like that? Anyone passing by will get the wrong idea."

"But it feels so good!" she mumbled dreamily. "Mmm… perfect…"

Within minutes, her breathing slowed. Curious, Ethan peeked around her shoulder — and nearly burst out laughing. She'd fallen asleep mid-massage, head tilted to the side, mouth slightly open.

Shaking his head, he carefully scooped her up, cradling her against his chest. The night air was chilly in the mountain village, even in late April. Gently, he carried her into her room, placed her on the bed, slipped off her slippers, and tucked her under the blanket. His movements were soft, almost tender.

Before leaving, he glanced at her peaceful face. In sleep, the usual sharpness in her eyes had softened, replaced by a quiet serenity. Smiling faintly, he closed the door behind him.

What he didn't see was the faint flicker of her eyelids after he left. Suzie cracked one eye open, a blissful expression spreading across her face before she snuggled deeper into the blankets, drifting off into the sweetest sleep she'd had in a long time.