Chapter 331: Old Mr. Yeats is a ’Green Tea’ Master

Chapter 331: Chapter 331: Old Mr. Yeats is a ’Green Tea’ Master

Old Mr. Yeats was cheerfully introducing Estelle to the guests.

Suddenly, he saw Evan approaching, and his smile gradually faded. "Evan, is something the matter?"

Everyone present had heard about the conflict between Evan and Estelle at the banquet entrance earlier. Seeing him approach now, some couldn’t help but look forward to a good show. One was the newly returned eldest miss, and the other was Old Mr. Yeats’s own grandson. How would Old Mr. Yeats choose?

Evan acted as if he didn’t see Estelle at all. He placed a gift in front of Old Mr. Yeats. "Grandpa, this is the gift Claire prepared for you."

At the mention of Claire’s name, the venue fell silent once again. Before Estelle returned to the Yeats family, everyone universally acknowledged Claire as the eldest miss of the Yeats family. Was Evan pulling this stunt on purpose?

Old Mr. Yeats, however, showed no extra emotion. "Why didn’t she deliver it herself?" he asked indifferently.

Evan pressed his lips together slightly. Unable to hold back from defending Claire, he said, "Claire said there was some misunderstanding between her and Miss Lockwood. Miss Lockwood probably doesn’t want to see her, so she asked me to deliver it."

"Oh, some unpleasantness?" Old Mr. Yeats looked up calmly. "Claire feels she and Estelle had an unpleasant run-in?"

The venue went completely dead silent. No one knew what Old Mr. Yeats meant by this. Was he going to stand up for Claire? Or was he going to teach Claire a lesson on Estelle’s behalf? Surprisingly, no one could read the old man’s thoughts.

Evan couldn’t read him either, but he felt that the bond between his grandfather and Claire was deeper after all. His tone didn’t sound like he was going to settle a score with Claire, so he nodded. "Yes."

"Hmm..." Old Mr. Yeats mused, then asked in a puzzled tone, "Since she knows she had an unpleasant run-in with Estelle, does she think having you deliver the gift makes things any more pleasant?"

Everyone was taken aback, and Evan froze.

Old Mr. Yeats spoke unhurriedly, "On one hand, she claims she had an unpleasant run-in with Estelle. On the other hand, she’s trying to make her presence known in front of Estelle. When couldn’t she deliver this gift? Why did it have to be right now?"

It suddenly dawned on everyone. Right. She kept saying she didn’t show up because she had an unpleasant run-in with the newly returned eldest miss. Yet, she asked Miss Yeats’s second brother to deliver a gift to their grandfather. Although she didn’t show up in person, she definitely made her presence felt.

While Old Mr. Yeats was introducing Estelle, Claire’s move was essentially telling everyone that the Yeats family didn’t just have Estelle, but also her, Claire. Furthermore, it demonstrated that Claire was extremely filial, remembering to give the old man a gift while Estelle stood there empty-handed.

Everyone present was shrewd. It wasn’t that they couldn’t see through Claire’s intentions, but now that Old Mr. Yeats pointed it out so explicitly, their expressions grew subtle. Claire’s little stunt might have fooled the gullible, but trying to deceive these astute individuals was a tall order.

Seeing that the situation was entirely different from what he had expected, Evan’s expression stiffened. "No, that’s not what Claire meant. I was the one who wanted to..."

"You wanted to deliver it?" Old Mr. Yeats cut in, his tone still unhurried. "So, you’re the one dissatisfied with Estelle? You deliberately chose this moment to compare Claire with Estelle just to embarrass Estelle?"

Estelle curled her lips into a faint smile. The old man’s personality was completely different from what she had imagined. If this were the patriarch of any other wealthy family, they definitely wouldn’t have phrased things this way. But Old Mr. Yeats didn’t seem to care about any of that; he was completely straightforward.

And as he had mentioned, Old Mr. Yeats wasn’t close to him as a child, and the only child he raised single-handedly was her mother... Perhaps, her mother had also shared this personality?

Evan’s cheek twitched. He truly didn’t know how to answer. "Grandpa, I didn’t think that much into it..."

Old Mr. Yeats knew his grandson’s brain; he indeed wasn’t capable of thinking that much into it. So he said meaningfully, "You might not have thought that much into it, but someone else probably did."

Evan opened his mouth to speak but felt that his grandfather wouldn’t believe him. Yet, he knew Claire didn’t do it on purpose either. Claire was so innocent, pure, and kind. How could she deliberately embarrass Estelle like his grandfather claimed? His grandfather was overthinking it. Claire... Claire just...

Old Mr. Yeats raised his eyes calmly. "Looking at you, you probably haven’t figured it out either. Step aside."

"Grandpa, I..." Evan wanted to advocate for Claire one more time. As a result, he lost his grip on the box in his hands. It hit the ground with a loud THUD. The latch on the box popped open, and a scroll rolled out. The scroll probably hadn’t been tied tightly either. It rolled twice on the floor, revealing the painting inside.

Instantly, the entire venue quieted down. The crowd held their breath in anticipation. After half a minute, someone finally said cautiously, "This painting... seems to be a work by Old Mr. Chester Quinn."

Old Mr. Chester Quinn was a master painter, and every one of his works fetched an astronomical price. He wasn’t short of money, and coming from the Quinn family, he didn’t need to sell paintings for a living, allowing him to paint entirely at his own whim. But undeniably, his paintings were modern masterpieces. Several power players in wealthy circles considered it an immense honor to own one of his works.

Old Mr. Yeats and Chester Quinn had some history together. It wouldn’t have been difficult for him to acquire one of his paintings, but unfortunately, the two had a massive falling-out ten years ago. Due to a clash of ideals, they decided to cut ties for the rest of their lives. In reality, both men wanted to reconcile. After all, a friendship spanning decades couldn’t just vanish into thin air. However, both were heads of prominent families and couldn’t bring themselves to swallow their pride.

Two years ago, when Old Mr. Yeats finally wanted to bury the hatchet and planned to visit the Quinn family under the guise of "requesting a painting," he heard devastating news—Old Mr. Quinn had suffered a sudden heart attack and passed away. The man who, just days prior, had been cheerfully planning to spar another three hundred rounds of arguments with Old Mr. Yeats had suddenly died just like that. Until his death, the two old men had never officially reconciled.

This became a lingering regret in Old Mr. Yeats’s heart. He had purchased many of Old Mr. Quinn’s paintings since then, but no matter what he did, the person would never return.

Now, Claire had gifted a painting by Old Mr. Quinn. The inscription on the artwork was dated five years ago. At that time, the two old men were still fighting, so Old Mr. Yeats had never seen this particular piece. Claire certainly knew how to cater to his tastes.

The venue remained in pin-drop silence for a moment; no one spoke. After a long while, Evan finally picked up the painting. "Grandpa, Claire has always kept you in her heart. She pulled a lot of strings and called in a lot of favors just to get this painting, all to make you happy."

Everyone felt that even if Old Mr. Yeats was well aware of Claire’s scheming at this moment, it would be hard for him to say anything more. Even though Claire didn’t appear at this banquet, she had absolutely made her presence felt.

Not far away, Nathaniel took a light sip of his tea.

"Mr. Sloan," Claire called out as she pretended to walk past, feigning surprise. "I didn’t expect you to be here too. Why aren’t you keeping Estelle company?"

Nathaniel looked up calmly and replied in a detached tone, "Because I know my boundaries. I didn’t want to steal Estelle’s thunder at the banquet."

Claire’s expression stiffened.