Chapter 8: Fanning the Flames and Getting Burned

At the sound of the order, the bodyguards moved swiftly, taking down all the paintings that had been pointed out and smashing them together. The sharp crackling of shattering glass and frames filled the room.

Sang Ke watched the chaos unfold in stunned disbelief, finally realizing the truth: this man was deliberately avoiding Song Linlang’s works and only targeting her own paintings for destruction.

It was both an outlet for his anger and a warning to others.

“I’ll ask you one last time. Who painted these?” Huo Yanting’s gaze was as cold and sharp as an ice pick, fixed on Song Linlang.

Her face was deathly pale, but she clamped her lips tightly shut, terrified of buckling under pressure and spilling everything.

“Linlang!”

Pei Xuyun, unable to bear watching her being cornered, pushed aside those in front of him and rushed over, shielding Song Linlang behind him. “Young Master Huo, forcing her to name someone without a shred of proof really is beneath a gentleman’s dignity.”

Huo Yanting’s expression didn’t change; he glanced at Pei Xuyun. “And you are?”

“Pei Xuyun.”

“Never heard of you,” Huo Yanting replied blandly.

Though his words were cutting, his tone was so calm, so casual, it seemed he was merely stating a fact, not intending to insult anyone.

The spectators, seeing Song Linlang’s rumored boyfriend join the fray, felt their gossiping spirits ignite.

Even though Young Master Huo’s actions today didn’t seem to show any special interest in Miss Song as rumors suggested, who could say this wasn’t his way of catching the young lady’s attention?

Despite the slight, Pei Xuyun maintained his composure, embodying the demeanor of a true gentleman. “Young Master Huo, you’ve just returned to the country and may not be familiar with the situation here. But that’s alright—Huo Corporation’s jewelry and watches are all endorsed by me. We’ll be working together plenty in the future.”

Huo Yanting neither followed his lead nor exchanged pleasantries.

His gaze returned to Song Linlang. “My patience is limited. If you can’t give me a satisfactory answer in five minutes, you’ll lose more than just these paintings.”

Failing to stop Pei Xuyun, Sang Ke sensed that Song Linlang’s defenses wouldn’t hold much longer and she’d soon be exposed.

While everyone’s attention remained fixed on the trio, Sang Ke quietly edged toward the door.

But the main entrance remained blocked.

Only an old locust tree by the wall, thick with branches and towering above the enclosure, offered a possible escape route.

Without hesitation, Sang Ke rolled up her sleeves and began to climb.

Inside the gallery, Song Linlang felt as though she were caught between fire and ice. Under Huo Yanting’s chilling, jet-black gaze, she finally broke, her voice trembling, “It was San—”

Before she could finish the name, a sudden outburst of barking came from outside.

At once, everyone’s attention was drawn away.

The bodyguard closest to the entrance checked the situation in the front yard and reported back, “Young Master Huo, it’s Miss Five’s dog. It found a suspicious woman.”

Huo Yanting was mildly surprised. “Why is Aunt’s dog here?”

Seeing there was no way to hide it, the bodyguard replied, “Miss Five was here earlier. When she heard you’d arrived, she slipped out the back. She did say not to tell you she’d been here, but left in such a hurry she forgot her dog, which gave her away.”

It took Huo Yanting only a moment to understand why his aunt had come.

“Let’s go see.”

With that, the crowd surged after him, eager to watch the drama unfold elsewhere.

Huo Yanting was the first to reach the front yard.

The instant his gaze found the familiar figure in the tree, he couldn’t look away.

“Isn’t that Mr. Pei’s friend?” someone remarked in surprise, recognizing Sang Ke—the very woman at the center of the counterfeit-painting scandal.

This comment instantly shifted Huo Yanting’s attention to Pei Xuyun.

Sensing hostility in Huo Yanting’s gaze, Pei Xuyun remembered Sang Ke’s warning that she’d offended Young Master Huo and, fearing being implicated, quickly explained, “Young Master Huo, Sang Ke and I are just classmates. We’re not close.”

Sang Ke?

Huo Yanting narrowed his eyes and strode toward the locust tree, where woman and dog faced off.

Sang Ke knew escape was impossible.

Clinging to the tree trunk like a koala, she found herself locked in a staring contest with a small poodle below.

She could have cursed the foolish dog. If it hadn’t jumped out and bitten off her shoe, she’d have vaulted the wall and been long gone by now!

Huo Yanting picked up a shoe from the ground and ordered the woman in the tree, “Come down.”

Though he had to look up at her, his posture was so upright, his presence so commanding, that he never seemed in a position of disadvantage. Even as he gazed up at Sang Ke, it was as if he were regarding prey on the chopping block.

Her fate rested entirely in his hands.

All eyes now focused on Sang Ke in the tree.

Her baseball cap and black-rimmed glasses covered most of her face, obscuring whether she was beautiful or plain. Her figure was decent enough, but her clothes were dowdy and cheap.

Such an ordinary woman—if she walked down the street, no one would spare her a second glance.

Who was she, really?

Not only did she know Cornell, but she had Young Master Huo picking up her shoe!

With the situation settled, Sang Ke stopped struggling, slid obediently down from the tree, and stood with her head bowed like a chastened schoolgirl awaiting punishment.

Though his anger burned within him, seeing her so pitiful and meek, Huo Yanting felt it dissolve into nothing.

He handed her the shoe, asking softly, “What’s your name?”

Though he already knew, he wanted to hear her say it herself.

The question hit Sang Ke like a blow, snapping her back to her senses.

She looked up suddenly, searching Huo Yanting’s expression for any sign of anger or vengefulness, but found nothing of the sort. Suddenly, joy burst within her.

Of course!

She was nothing like her old self in France. As long as Huo Yanting didn’t recognize her, then the one who had deceived and offended him was “Song Linlang”—what did that have to do with Sang Ke?

She put on her shoe and, pinching her voice, thanked him and introduced herself, “Sang Ke.”

Huo Yanting fell silent at her deliberately altered tone.

Seeing he lingered, Sang Ke felt uncertain, worried she’d given herself away. She nervously adjusted her glasses and pulled the brim of her cap lower.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll just—”

Before she could finish, Song Linlang approached, fanning the flames. “Sang Ke, what are you doing up that tree? Did you do something wrong and try to run away?”

Feeling Huo Yanting’s gaze sharpen, Sang Ke replied calmly, “What could I possibly have done? I was just out for a walk when suddenly a dog came after me—I was so scared I had to climb up the tree.”

Blaming the dog, knowing it couldn’t defend itself, Sang Ke shifted all suspicion to it.

The crowd might be fooled, but not Huo Yanting.

He knew his aunt’s dog never attacked people. Watching this woman repeatedly take everyone for fools, he couldn’t help thinking of the past month’s deception, and his anger rekindled.

He arched an eyebrow. “Sang Ke, is that so? What’s your relationship with Song Linlang? Why are your paintings at her exhibition?”

He’d recognized her after all!

Sang Ke realized it instantly, her eyes widening in terror.

The crowd, too, was shocked.

Aside from the counterfeit labeled as Cornell’s work, all the other paintings at the exhibition bore Song Linlang’s name. If what Young Master Huo said was true, then Song Linlang had plagiarized someone else’s work—a disgrace far worse than buying a fake or pretending to know Cornell.

In an instant, countless probing, judgmental eyes turned on Sang Ke.

Even Song Linlang hadn’t expected her provocation to backfire so spectacularly. Seeing that her hired artist scheme was about to be exposed, she was consumed with regret.