Chapter 346: Only in Your Twenties, What’s Too Late?

Chapter 346: Chapter 346: Only in Your Twenties, What’s Too Late?

After a moment of silence, Estelle Lockwood swallowed hard.

Nathaniel Sloan could certainly appreciate an art exhibition. After all, rumor had it that Mr. Lynch from the charity banquet was quite gifted in painting.

But that wasn’t the point.

Estelle hesitated, letting out a small sigh. "Do you want to take another look? These two tickets aren’t right for us."

Liam Sloan muttered, "Why aren’t they right? What do you mean, Estelle? Are we still best friends or what?"

As for Ms. Sloan, they were naturally good friends. After all, ever since Ms. Sloan returned to the country, he had been threatening to handle Estelle’s divorce case.

Estelle, fearing for Liam’s life, suggested, "How about this... you give these two tickets to me and Nathaniel, and I’ll buy you another one?"

Liam was still playing a game on his phone. Estelle’s words went in one ear and out the other. "Why? I don’t want to."

"You don’t want to?"

Estelle opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, a male voice drifted down from above her head. She and Liam were sitting in the corner of the reception room on a soft tatami mat. Yet, facing Nathaniel who stood just three feet away, they inexplicably lost all their imposing aura.

Liam, completely oblivious to the situation, mumbled, "MHM."

"So," Nathaniel slowly parted his lips, "you want to use couple’s tickets to attend an event with my wife?"

Estelle silently covered her face.

Liam was bewildered. He thought, "Huh? Wait a minute! That voice?"

His head snapped up. For a moment, he felt dizzy. He looked at Nathaniel, then down at the couple’s tickets in his hand, entirely speechless. He wondered in a panic, "Who gave me these tickets? Who is trying to get me killed?!"

"HAHA." Liam let out a dry laugh. "Nathaniel, listen to me. What I just did was actually a strategy. First, I said I wouldn’t give you the tickets. Then, I was going to pretend I just realized they were couple’s tickets and immediately change my tune to say, ’Oh, wishing Nathaniel and Estelle an everlasting love!’ Tell me, wouldn’t you be pleasantly surprised?"

Nathaniel was speechless. A forced, mirthless smile appeared on his face. "I think you’re just asking for a beating."

Liam respectfully offered the tickets up with both hands. "I’ll go buy another one."

Nathaniel’s gaze darkened as he looked at the couple’s tickets. "What’s so special about Evan Yeats’s art exhibition that you absolutely must go?"

"Oh," Liam replied. "I saw one of Evan’s paintings the year before last. It was absolutely stunning, and it’s left a deep impression on me ever since. Even though Evan isn’t a great person, he’s incredibly talented when it comes to painting. His art style is highly versatile, and each style is so vastly different from the others that it’s hard to imagine they were painted by the same person."

Estelle rested her chin in her hands. "How do you know it’s the same person? A lot of painters with varying styles just use ghost painters."

"People have investigated that, but they couldn’t find any artists with styles similar to Evan’s. As for ghost painters, people have also looked into his financial transactions and his social circle. Long story short, they haven’t found anyone suspicious," Liam said, holding up a finger.

"And did you know? He has a whopping eighteen different styles! Who can even comprehend that? Eighteen styles! Even if one person handled one style, he’d have to hire eighteen ghost painters. Doing something like that is way too risky.

"If you hire one or two ghost painters and give them enough money and perks, they’ll keep your secret.

"But eighteen? How do you even manage that? If even one of those eighteen ghost painters decided they had enough and exposed him, Evan wouldn’t be able to handle the public relations nightmare.

"A lot of people used to doubt Evan, but nowadays, those suspicions have died down."

Estelle nodded. That made sense.

"It just goes to show that art has nothing to do with a person’s character," Liam said. "Although, I still think it’s unfair of God to give such immense talent to someone like him!"

Estelle looked at the exhibition tickets, her eyes narrowing. She wondered why... Evan gave her a very... how should she put it? A very strange feeling.

She couldn’t clearly articulate this strangeness. If she had to describe it, it was as if Quentin Yeats, Old Mr. Yeats, and Mrs. Yeats all looked like one cohesive family. While Evan also seemed like part of the family at first glance, he...

Estelle found herself at a rare loss for words. She thought, "If I had to use an internet meme to describe it, it’d be: ’Even if the garlic squeezes into the fruit bowl, it’s still an outsider.’"

He was covered head to toe in the hallmarks of the Yeats Family. At first glance, he seemed like a pampered child raised by them, but upon closer inspection, it was as if a clove of garlic had been mixed into a bowl of oranges—possessing a completely different appearance and scent.

She thought, "Tsk, that analogy is a bit too crude."

Pushing those thoughts aside, Estelle heard Nathaniel casually ask Liam, "Have you practiced any new pieces lately?"

"...Something on the violin," Liam replied.

Nathaniel didn’t seem particularly curious, but he threw out another seemingly casual question. "Which teacher did you hire to learn from?"

Liam’s lips twitched. "I’m self-taught."

"Since you’re so passionate about instruments, you should find a professional to guide you."

Liam fell silent for a long moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh. "What’s the use? Is it even possible to start now?"

Because of Laura Jennings’s malicious sabotage during his childhood, Liam had missed the prime age to learn an instrument. Now that he was starting in his twenties, he could no longer catch up to others. Furthermore, he was a lawyer now and had absolutely no extra time to study. A childhood dream was ultimately just a dream—one that could no longer be realized.

Yes, he had wanted to be a musician when he was little. Thinking about it now, it was incredibly naive. The first time he told Laura Jennings about his ambition, she had slapped him hard across the face, scolding him for neglecting his proper duties. Laura Jennings had forbidden him from learning music and barred him from getting involved with the company. Instead, she only encouraged him to squander his time drinking and partying with a bunch of trust-fund brats. Was that what she considered "proper duties"?

Nathaniel’s tone remained calm. "If you want to learn, then learn. You’re only in your twenties; it’s not like you’re on your deathbed. What do you mean ’is it too late’?"

Liam looked a little surprised, his eyes flickering slightly. After a long pause, a soft smile graced his lips. "I really am interested, and I’d like to find a few professional teachers to learn from."

In the past, he felt that it was far too late and that his life path was already set in stone. At his age, talking about a career change seemed absurd—especially for a dream that required rigorous training from childhood. But Nathaniel was right! He was only in his twenties, not dying tomorrow. Was there anything he couldn’t at least try to achieve?

Nathaniel didn’t press the matter further. He merely said, "You also enjoy being a lawyer. Do it if you want, and if you don’t, try something else. Regardless, with me around, you won’t starve to death."

Liam’s heart ached with a bittersweet joy. Although he appeared to be favored, the doting he received from Laura Jennings and Ethan Sloan was genuinely suffocating. From childhood to adulthood, Nathaniel was the only one who truly cared about him.

And now, Liam knew that Nathaniel wasn’t Laura Jennings’s biological son. Based on their identities alone, he and Nathaniel should have been sworn enemies—the son of Laura Jennings and the son of Miranda Lancaster. Weren’t they destined to be rivals? Yet, the only person who would comfort him and look out for his best interests was Nathaniel.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Liam was on the verge of tears. "Nathaniel... BOOHOO, you’re more of a real brother to me than anyone!"

Liam’s desire to find a music teacher wasn’t a major affair, but Old Mr. Yeats, who paid close attention to anything involving musical instruments, happened to hear about it.

Far away in Capital City, Old Mr. Yeats listened to his subordinate’s report. Originally, he had only intended to investigate what kind of man Estelle’s husband really was. Then, he caught wind of this particular conversation.

He thought, "It must be nice to have an older brother like that. If I had possessed that kind of courage when I was young, I’d probably be a musician by now too, wouldn’t I?"