At least she now knew that her father hadn't come looking for her all these years not because he disliked her, but simply because he was unaware of her existence.
Her father never forgot her mother and felt guilty for twenty years.
Before they knew it, the two had reached the end of the road. There was a room ahead with the door tightly closed, and Shelley made no attempt to explain.
Ji Zhinan looked at the room and asked, "What kind of room is this?"
Shelley shook her head: "I don't know. This is Mr. Charleson's private property. He instructed us not to approach without permission, or we would be held responsible for any consequences. Miss, let's go."
Private sphere?
Ji Zhinan stared intently at the door. For some reason, she seemed to have already guessed who the things in the room were related to.
She strode forward and pushed open the door.
"Young Miss—" Shelley tried to stop him, but Ji Zhinan had already pushed open the door and gone inside.
Stepping inside, Ji Zhinan felt as if he had entered another world.
The room was filled with oil paintings, some hanging on the walls and others piled up against them.
The window was open, and a cool breeze blew in, causing the pure white curtains to sway in the air.
Apart from the oil paintings, everything else is white, clean enough to put one at ease.
Ji Zhinan walked towards the easel, on which was displayed a painting.
The girl, dressed in a plaid long dress and with two simple braids, sat by the lake in front of an easel, holding a palette and paintbrush, her expression serious as she intently painted the landscape.
The paint simply couldn't capture her delicate features. Even though it was just a side profile, revealing only one eye, it was clear that her eyes were exceptionally beautiful.
Ji Zhinan stared silently at the painting, at the girl, the girl who looked exactly like the one in the photo he found in his grandfather's safe.
Sylvie.
Her mother.
"This is the first time I met your mother."
A voice suddenly came from behind them. They didn't know when Li Yuan had entered. Shelley and Charleson wisely retreated.
Li Yuan looked at the paintings in the room; every single one was of Xi Luo, Xi Luo from various angles.
His mind was flooded with images from twenty years ago, and he looked somewhat dazed.
"She is a girl who loves to paint. In fact, the first time I met her, she was painting by the lake."
Li Yuan curled his lips into a bitter smile: "I left in such a hurry that I didn't have time to move many things before the villa was bombed."
When he received the news, his relatives had already entered China. He dismissed the servants overnight and left with Xi Luo and Old Master Ji.
Before he could go back to move his things, the collateral branches had already taken action, and not a single painting by Xi Luo was saved.
“These are all my paintings. I paint one every time I miss her.”
The room is filled with hundreds of paintings of all sizes.
"Actually, I'm still afraid of forgetting her."
Li Yuan looked at Ji Zhinan, staring at those eyes that were 100% similar to Xi Luo's, and his smile grew increasingly bitter.
"Years have passed since she left me. I'm afraid that as I get older, my memory will get worse and worse, and eventually I won't even remember what she looks like."
He was afraid of forgetting what Shilo looked like, so whenever his memory became blurry, he would look at these paintings to reintroduce Shilo's image into his mind.
"Nan Nan, your eyes look so much like hers."
Seeing Nan Nan, who resembled her, Li Yuan felt as if she had returned to twenty years ago and saw Xi Luo alive again.
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