I looked at Mr. Johnson. I couldn't put a finger on what exactly I was feeling.

Every word he said seemed to be unveiling layers upon layers of fog, bringing me closer to the heavily hidden truth.

I took a deep breath to calm my emotions. I knew I could only handle the following conversation better with a calm mind.

"Mr Johnson, I understand what you meant about the pursuit of art. But to me, anything that was done in the name of art, but had too many other gains and schemes involved, would have tainted the purity of the pursuit of art." He might have appreciated Jack's proactiveness since Jack could bring him a lot of profit, but Jack was not a saint.

"He had been consumed by greed and desire, so much so that family was now a chip he could bargain for more profit," I said slowly, each word comprised of the complex emotions I felt toward Jack.

A flash of pity and helplessness flashed in Mr. Johnson's eyes after he heard what I had to say.

He shook his head lightly like he had felt sorry for what I had to go through, and at the same time, he felt sad for himself and for the people of his days.

"You're right, Ms. Wiley. Your father and the people of our days had gone through several wrong paths in our pursuit of dreams and wealth." He seemed to have known something as he stared intently at the drawing on the wall. "But what I wanted to say was that there is a sanctuary in each of our hearts that helps us to not completely give up on the hope of a better future even in the darkest of times."

I took a deep breath as I racked my brain for information regarding this art gallery.

But, I couldn't replace any,

"That art gallery was such an existence to us. It witnessed our glory and downfall, and embodied our most genuine heart in the pursuit of art."

As I listened to Mr. Johnson, my heart was filled with emotional turmoil.

I suddenly realized that I might not be able to completely understand what that generation of people had been through. They had gone through so many changes and storms that their seemingly

vel

questionable actions seemed to

carry a certain weight of

helplessness and unseen struggles.

"Where's that art gallery now? Why did it suddenly disappear? What else do you know?"

I asked once more. This time, my tone was more urgent and firm.

Mr. Johnson was silent for a while like he was contemplating if he should tell me the truth.

Alas, he started telling me about some other things. "There are some things that aren't necessarily good for you to know, but since you insist, I won't hide them any longer.

"That art gallery didn't completely disappear. It just exists in another form now. As for the exact location and its situation, I can't tell you right now.

"But I can promise you that it has

very close relations to your father's wealth If you're so eager to replace out the truth about it, you will have to uncover those hidden secrets yourself."

I was shocked yet elated to hear Mr. Johnson's words. I knew that I was one step closer to the truth. At the same time, I understood that the following steps in my path would be much more difficult and dangerous.

When I went back, I thought for a very long time and found a possibility.

I approached Kevin with a slight hesitation in my eyes. "I think I need to go back for now. Things here aren't that urgent for me to deal with."

If I continued to waste my time here, I would be sure to face a lot more problems. I also felt like something wasn't right now that Ethan was back too.

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