Chapter 352: Father’s Relics, Vanished Into Thin Air

Chapter 352: Chapter 352: Father’s Relics, Vanished Into Thin Air

Estelle wanted to calm down on her own. "No need."

"Alright." Nathaniel felt helpless. His wife was far too independent. There was simply no need for him at all; what could he do?

Estelle didn’t care that Nathaniel was outside the door; she continued reading the letter.

She thought to herself that, just as expected, her grandfather truly did want her to share her father’s brilliance with the world. He didn’t want it kept hidden, leaving everyone completely unaware of Silas Lockwood’s existence and just how outstanding a person he was.

Chase loved his son dearly. He must have been deeply saddened by Silas having to conceal his identity, right? And it was obvious that this "concealment" was no badge of honor.

If Silas had been researching secret weapons or drugs for the country, Chase wouldn’t have sounded so full of regret and sorrow in the letter. Instead, the letter seemed to imply that Silas’s concealment wasn’t voluntary. Rather, he had been targeted because of some research and had been forced to compromise for some reason.

Consequently, Chase lost his son.

A person’s death could be physical, or it could be spiritual. Back then, for Chase, Silas had probably not just died physically, but spiritually as well. Someone was deliberately erasing Silas’s existence.

This was likely why Chase eventually lost the desire to fight Old Mr. Lockwood for the position of Family Head. Old Mr. Lockwood had crossed both Chase and Silas off the Lockwood Family register and forbade anyone from mentioning them.

But now, her grandfather hoped Estelle could tell the world that a man named Silas Lockwood had once lived. He was the one who founded Harmony Atelier, and he was an incredibly talented painter.

"Estelle, as I write this letter, I don’t know if you’ll have any interest in art. If you do, that would be for the best. I would feel at ease leaving Harmony Atelier in your hands.

"But if you don’t like it, that’s fine too. Grandpa only hopes that, many years from now, people will be able to see your father’s works.

"In his life, aside from dedicating himself to his research and to your mother, the things he cared about most were art and design."

Estelle felt that her talent in art and design truly did come from her father.

"Estelle, although you are still young, I imagine the you twenty-five years from now will be very smart and able to understand what Grandpa means. By then, I will surely be gone. Therefore, your father’s atelier, his artworks, and the many, many things he once loved but was forced to give up—I am leaving them all to you.

"You won’t need to put too much thought into it. Just adding Silas’s name to Harmony Atelier will be enough. Silas loved these things deeply, but in his entire life, he never painted publicly.

"All his paintings were completed at home and then locked away in the basement, meant only for his own appreciation. But I know he desperately wanted more and more people to love his art and resonate with it.

"If people liked his work, it would have been the greatest comfort to him.

"So, I must trouble you to take the paintings and design works your father left behind and display them at Harmony Atelier for exhibition.

"I have left your father’s paintings in the villa he left for you. The key to the villa is in the box.

"Thank you, Estelle."

Estelle folded the letter, her heart growing heavier and heavier.

This was the very last thing a father could do for his son. It was simple, completely ordinary. If nothing unexpected had happened, all Estelle would have to do was bring the paintings out, display them in the atelier, and attribute them to Silas Lockwood.

But something unexpected had happened.

Her father had wanted the world to see and love his paintings—and he had succeeded. Those painters and fans were currently flushing with excitement, raving about how perfect the paintings were, how masterful the techniques were, and how deeply they loved them.

Yet all of this was credited to someone else’s name, not Silas Lockwood’s.

Estelle glanced at the villa’s address and grabbed the key her grandfather had provided. "Nathaniel, I need to go to my father’s villa."

The man, with one hand tucked into his trench coat pocket, simply gave a slight nod. "I’ll go get the car."

At the art exhibition.

Evan basked in everyone’s flattery, his face glowing with a radiant smile. Mrs. Yeats had also come, showing up to support her son. People wanted to curry favor with Mrs. Yeats, but their praises were also genuine.

"This is incredible. For the Second Young Master to achieve this level of skill at such a young age, his future is limitless."

Mrs. Yeats was quite straightforward, beaming with pride for her son. Once the crowd of well-wishers dispersed, she looked around. "Where’s your brother? Why isn’t he here?"

"I told him not to come!" Evan felt irritated just hearing Quentin’s name. This older brother of his was better than him in every way. Quentin was the one who would inherit the Yeats Family; he was Young Mr. Yeats, while Evan was merely the Second Young Master.

The only area where he could outshine Quentin was his identity as a painter. But while others didn’t know, he was well aware of the truth about these paintings...

Mrs. Yeats patted the back of Evan’s hand and frowned. "What’s wrong with you? Why are you causing trouble with your brother? You aren’t still holding a grudge over him not showing Claire any respect, are you?"

"No," Evan replied, unwilling to say more.

Mrs. Yeats clicked her tongue twice. "Sons really do grow out of their mother’s control. Do as you please. By the way, has Estelle already left?"

"Mom, why are you bringing up Estelle again!" Evan grew even more irritated.

Mrs. Yeats sighed. "Estelle is your sister, after all. Fine, fine. Today is your art exhibition, so I won’t nag you. I just heard someone mention that Estelle painted something in the painting area, and I want to go take a look."

However, when Mrs. Yeats got there, she was informed that Estelle had taken her painting with her. She didn’t say much about it.

Evan just couldn’t understand why his mother cared so much about Estelle, to the point of even worrying about whether Estelle had attended the exhibition or not.

Stepping out of the car, Estelle saw the villa.

It was quite ordinary, just a small home. It used to be part of what was likely a rather prosperous villa community, but as better and larger properties became more common, people had abandoned this place, leaving it overgrown with weeds.

Estelle used the key to open the main gate, only to hear a beep. The doorbell emitted a cute automated voice. "BEEP BEEP BEEP. Please proceed with facial verification."

Estelle clicked her tongue. "Facial verification? After over twenty years, this machine still works?"

Nathaniel took a glance at it. "This model is from eight years ago."

Estelle paused and suddenly pursed her lips. "Eight years ago... Then Grandpa must have replaced it before he fell seriously ill."

Back then, had her grandfather actually had her record some kind of facial verification?

"This model was phased out a long time ago," Nathaniel explained. "Over these past few years, facial verification technology has advanced by leaps and bounds. This version likely just extracts facial data and processes it based on geometric features. However, if it only stored your facial data, then no one else would indeed be able to open it."

Estelle nodded. After entering the villa, she discovered that it was practically an impenetrable fortress. Outsiders could only enter through the front door.

Upon reaching the interior of the villa, Estelle passed through several more facial verifications before stepping into the basement.

However, she discovered that the "over two hundred paintings and several hundred fashion and jewelry design blueprints" her grandfather had described in his letter had completely vanished into thin air.