A group of pedantic people

Hatred burned in their eyes.

Not just Roe—every person present, including Mr. Johnson, cast accusatory glares toward John. It was as if Wade's sudden illness had become entirely his fault. A quiet fury simmered among them, the unspoken consensus being clear:

John had ruined the perfect calligraphy and painting exchange.

And that woman—Alice. She was no less culpable in their eyes.

From now on, both of them would be blacklisted from all future art gatherings. Their names were to be permanently struck off any prestigious invitation list.

"Cough…"

A raspy fit of coughing shattered the tension. Wade stirred and slowly regained consciousness, the flush draining from his face.

Everyone exhaled a breath of relief.

Julian calmly withdrew the acupuncture needle and coldly remarked, "I seem to recall someone questioning my skills just now."

He glanced pointedly at John.

Of course Julian had heard him earlier, but he hadn't responded at the time—he was concentrating on the delicate process of acupuncture and couldn't afford to be distracted.

But now that Wade was awake, Julian seized the opportunity to unleash his indignation.

He could not tolerate having his expertise questioned—especially not in public.

The onlookers, already biased against John, sneered with schadenfreude.

Didn't you say Julian's acupuncture was wrong? Well, look at Wade now—awake and breathing. What do you have to say for yourself?

Awkward, isn't it?

But John ignored their mockery. His tone remained calm and composed as he spoke:

"In three days, Wade will collapse again. This time, blood will pour from his nose, mouth, and ears. He won't last five days."

The words dropped like a thunderclap.

Everyone stared in stunned silence.

John had clearly observed Julian's technique during the treatment. The method used had merely suppressed the symptoms temporarily—but it had failed to address the underlying imbalance. Instead, it would provoke an even more violent rebound.

If John's calculations were correct, Wade's condition would deteriorate catastrophically within three days.

"You bastard!" Roe's face turned crimson with rage. "How dare you curse my father?! I'll kill you!"

He charged at John like a madman.

But—

John's eyes turned ice-cold. His gaze locked onto Roe, sharp and oppressive like a blade pressing against the throat.

"If you want to die, then come."

Roe froze mid-step.

That one glance stopped him in his tracks. His limbs stiffened, and an invisible force seemed to crush his courage.

He was paralyzed by John's overpowering aura.

"Coward."

John didn't waste another second on him. He turned his back on them, his coat flaring dramatically as he walked away.

Before leaving, he cast a final look at Mr. Johnson and the rest of the crowd.

"A bunch of blind, narrow-minded fools. You are an embarrassment to Master of Clouds."

With that, he took Alice by the hand and strode out of the Johnson residence.

Behind them, the air was thick with anger and humiliation.

On the way home, Alice kept glancing at John with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

John chuckled wryly. "Why are you staring at me like that, Alice? Do I have something on my face?"

"You were so cool just now," Alice said, her voice coquettish and playful. "I like that side of you."

Then, without warning, she grabbed his face and kissed him squarely on the cheek.

John blushed.

A full-grown man—and yet, thoroughly flustered.

Alice grinned and said nonchalantly, "Don't get the wrong idea. I'm just really, really happy."

John shook his head with a helpless smile. "You're my sister. How could I dare get the wrong idea?"

It was already past eleven when the two of them arrived at the Greenland Villa.

Like the other sisters, Alice normally lived closer to her workplace for convenience. But tonight, she decided to stay at the villa. Her commute the next day would be longer, but she didn't seem to mind.

Only Queenie typically lived here full-time—her company wasn't far.

As they entered the house, they found Queenie still awake.

She had already taken her shower and now lounged in the living room wearing a sheer gauze nightdress. The delicate lace hem fell just above her thighs, revealing long, snow-white legs that gleamed under the soft lighting.

A living masterpiece.

John, ever the gentleman, kept his gaze straight ahead.

But Queenie suddenly widened her eyes. "John… your face…"

He blinked. "What?"

"There's a bright red lipstick mark on your cheek!"

Alice laughed awkwardly. "Haha… I'm going to shower now, sis!"

She darted off toward the bathroom, leaving a faint trail of guilt behind her.

Queenie narrowed her eyes, clearly understanding what had happened. Her gaze flicked back to John, smoldering with a strange mix of suspicion and… jealousy?

"Hmph. Hand over your right cheek," she ordered coldly. "Or I'll take it myself."

Overbearing as ever.

The next morning, all the sisters went off to work.

John made a phone call.

What had happened the previous night was far from over. He would not allow those arrogant men to walk away without giving Alice a sincere apology.

Later that day, a bombshell of a news item exploded across New York's collector community.

This Tuesday, the Oriental Auction House would host a special exhibition. A new work by the legendary Master of Clouds would be unveiled.

The entire art world was thrown into chaos.

Master of Clouds?!

The reclusive master hadn't released a new piece in years. In fact, many had assumed he was either dead or had retired permanently from the public eye.

Now, a new masterpiece had surfaced.

It could only mean one thing:

Master of Clouds was alive.

Collectors across New York were in a frenzy. Mr. Johnson, Wade, Roe, and even Julian were ecstatic. They scrambled to purchase admission tickets to the auction house online.

And they weren't alone.

News of the unveiling spread like wildfire. Even collectors from other cities rushed to secure tickets.

They sold out within hours.

Alice, caught up in her busy schedule, missed the window. By the time she checked the website, the tickets were gone.

She sulked the entire evening.

But when they returned to the villa, John pulled her aside into a small room, his expression mysterious.

"Alice, check this out."

Her eyes widened.

"Wait—this… This is a ticket to the Oriental Auction House! AHHHH! JOHN, I LOVE YOU!"

Her businesslike demeanor crumbled in an instant. She squealed like a fangirl, wrapped her arms around John, and planted a kiss on his cheek again.

Unfortunately, this tender moment happened to be witnessed by Queenie—again.

Now, both of John's cheeks were marked with lipstick.

He sighed internally.

Sisters… I'm a grown man now. You can't just keep kissing me like I'm a puppy! This is harassment!

So annoying!