Chapter 19
In the beginning, everyone was in the mindset of watching the play and eagerly anticipated Ash’s embarrassing blunder, waiting for Ash to make a fool of himself.
However, Wesley was different. While he seemed not fixated on Ash throughout, his gaze never truly left her.
Ash’s technique was a marvel to behold. Wielding tweezers gracefully, she meticulously cleansed the dust from the painting’s surface with an
carnest look.
The dexterity and finesse she displayed were unparalleled, nothing like the person he knew.
Ash, apparently a mess when it came to academics, never graduated from junior high school and was considered illiterate. How could someone like that possibly obtain a certificate in cultural relics restoration?
Wesley’s heart was now filled with doubt.
“Hey, youngster! What are you scraping with that razor blade? Be cautious. One wrong move, and you’ll be paying dearly for it!”
Seeing Ash resort to a razor blade, Quinton was utterly astonished and shouted at the top of his lungs with wide, alarmed eyes.
Ash’s hand trembled slightly, and she couldn’t help but furrow her brow in frustration.
Luckily, her grip remained steady. Otherwise, the painting would have been ruined, leaving no room for remediation.
She was so irritated that she raised her head and gave Quinton a sharp glare that could cut through steel.
The intensity of her gaze was so sharp and cold that it even sent shivers down Quinton’s spine.
It was too stranger. He felt as if Ash’s eyes could wound him.
After giving a cold warning glare at Quinton, Ash turned her gaze toward Wesley.
Wesley calmly held a cup of coffee in his hand, stirred the coffee gently with a spoon, and said calmly, his voice barely rising above a whisper.
“Someone, silence Mr. Hawk.”
“Mr. Feron… I…”
“Shush!” Wesley silenced him with an impatient gesture.
Quinton didn’t dare to offend Wesley and had no choice but to allow his bodyguard to silence him,
When the room got quiet again, Ash then resumed her work.
Forty minutes later, Ash finally straightened up and perfectly framed the painting.
The process went even more smoothly than she had anticipated.
Of course, she owed much of the success to Wesley’s assistance.
“Oh my! It looks exactly as it did before, not a trace of the coffee stains remaining!”
“Truly! This young one has some extraordinary talent!”
A few people approached, awestruck by the restored painting, their expressions filled with astonishment.
Some art restorers were initially skeptical and converged around the painting, lowering their heads and scrutinizing it with great care. Some even picked up a magnifying glass.
“Oh my! This is totally magic!”
“How on earth did this happen?*
The crowd, taken aback, all turned their attention to Ash simultaneously.
Nonchalantly, Ash discarded the gloves.
Then, she threw the gloves into a nearby trash can a few feet away with remarkable precision.
Removing her goggles, she motioned for the waiter to clear away all the restoration tools.
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Chapter 19
She strode toward Quinton directly and then adjusted the goggles onto his nose. After that, she removed the seal on his mouth.
“Mr. Hawk, would you please take a look at the painting in person?”
Gritting his teeth, Quinton went to the painting, only to be pleasantly surprised by its restored state. A smile dawned on his face.
“Great! You’ve got some talent, young one! I’m fair in meting out rewards and punishments, and since you helped me restore this painting, here’s your tip.”
Quinton pulled out 50 dollars, offering it to Ash.
However, Ash didn’t accept the money.
“What? Is that not enough?” Quinton gave a superior smile, adding a few more bills to the stack. “Then I’ll give you 200 dollars. That’s a lot.”
“Mr. Hawk is so generous. You should thank him for his generosity now.”
The other people joined in.
Clearly, they were making light–hearted jests at Ash’s expense.
Seeing Ash’s darkened face, Vera discreetly winked at her.
Ash thought about it and decided not to create a scene since the matter was already settled.
“Thank you, Mr. Hawk.” Ash accepted the money.
“See, just 200 dollars is enough. I told you that the profession of artifact restoration is not in popular demand, though it possesses high technical requirements. People who major in this field can’t make much money a year.”
Quinton continued to boast, showing his superiority.
Ash managed to remain composed and took it as idle chatter.
As Ash was about to leave, Wesley’s cold voice interrupted the banter.
“Mr. Hawk, I want to buy this painting, and I can offer you 26 million and 200 dollars.”
“Mr. Feron, are you joking? I thought you disliked this painting.” Quinton felt both surprised and flattered.
Wesley retorted coldly with hidden anger in his tone, “Since when is it your place to speculate on my preferences?”
Quickly changing his demeanor, Quinton showed a smile. “Since you want it, Mr. Feron, I can just send this painting to you as a gift. You don’t have to pay…”
But before he could finish his sentence, Wesley stood up, nonchalantly wiping his hands with a piece of tissue.
Tossing the used tissue into the trash can, Wesley walked over to Ash, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Ash, this painting is yours.”
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