The young man was about twenty-five or twenty-six, and had just been eating at the same table, where he was quite lively. Nora Scott had a bit of an impression of him. He seemed to draw horror comics. "Do you remember me? I was just two seats away from you. I’m called Zhurong." The young man greeted her with a familiar attitude. "I just wanted to apologize," Zhurong, understanding the principle of ’never hit a smiling face,’ beamed with a bright smile, "I didn’t greet you properly earlier, really sorry about that." Nora looked at him in surprise. This evasive tactic was a bit too practiced. With a simple "didn’t greet you properly," was he going to brush off all the previous neglect, isolation, and mockery as if nothing had happened? Zhurong continued to chatter, "But I really didn’t expect that ’Miss Scott’ wasn’t Sophie Scott, but you. Why didn’t you say so directly back then? I get it now, you’re the kind who hides your skills—" In the midst of his chatter, when he looked up, he found that Nora had already left. Looking towards the door, the smile on Zhurong’s face disappeared, and with a disdainful "tch," he kicked the air before scratching his head and heading out. When leaving, he took out his phone. A few minutes later, an anonymous ID suddenly appeared in a comic author group on a penguin social app. [Anonymous-WhereThereAreMischiefs]: Here’s a shocking secret. [Anonymous-WhereThereAreMischiefs]: About a certain recently popular up-and-coming author. [Anonymous-WhereThereAreMischiefs]: I was dining with a group of comic artists at a well-known restaurant in Fenton City today... Replacing the place and people’s names, he roughly recounted a mix-up incident with some artistic embellishment. An amazing development, an unexpected twist, in no time, drew the attention of many members in the group. [Whoa, seriously? How does this sound even more thrilling than a story?] [Blind guess the self-proclaimed Miss X is the author UU of "First Ruins."] [Heard during the day there was a private gathering of authors, seemed like UU was hosting at some super fancy restaurant.] [LOL, betting a chicken leg that fake Miss X is definitely UU. Didn’t expect her to be so vain, hahaha.] [Hahahahahaha, would love to know the look on Miss X’s face after the twist.] [The real Miss X: I’ll just calmly watch you put on an act...] [The real Miss X is amazing for holding back, but that face-slapping at the end is so satisfying, just thinking about it is exhilarating.] [Too awkward, just imagining that scene gives me goosebumps. If I caused such a big blunder, I wouldn’t have the face to show up in public ever again.] The dramatic story spread from one to ten, from ten to a hundred. That evening, Sophie Scott hadn’t even reached home when she saw them discussing the matter enthusiastically in a group, subtly hinting at her, enraging her to the point she almost suicidally humiliated herself in the car. Treating the gathering as just a brief interlude, Nora Scott had just returned to Cloudwater Haven and tossed the packed meal onto the dining table. Only the study light was on. Nora walked straight to the study door. Hearing her, Marcus Shaw, who was sitting at the desk playing on his phone, got up and slipped the phone into his pocket. Noticing his action, Nora’s expression showed a hint of suspicion but she didn’t press further. Marcus walked out of the study only to see Nora walking in, he paused and asked, "You’ve already eaten?" Nora replied in a calm tone. Marcus went into the kitchen, washed his hands, came out and took another glance at the study, confirming Nora was still inside and hadn’t come out, before taking out his phone to check the messages. [Oliver Scott]: I’ve studied these sketches you took, and they’re not very feasible. [Oliver Scott]: But to be honest, the imagination is really impressive. [Oliver Scott]: If the expertise were a bit stronger, maybe all these ideas could be realized. [Oliver Scott]: But following the original blueprints, there’s definitely no way to succeed. [Oliver Scott]: These sketches look quite old, where did you get them from? After browsing through all of Oliver Scott’s messages, Marcus frowned slightly but did not reply. Last time when he went home to look for Evelyn Easton’s reference books, he also brought back a batch of her sketches. The sketches consisted mostly of component diagrams, meant to be designing something. He had studied them, but with his limited knowledge of Mechanical Techniques, after researching for two weeks he still couldn’t understand it, so he directly sought help from Oliver Scott. To his surprise, Oliver’s assessment was so low, only giving a nod to its "impressive imagination." It seems, Evelyn Easton’s expertise in Mechanical Techniques... is really not that great. The phone vibrated again. Marcus, who was taking the dishes out one by one, glanced down at it. [Oliver Scott]: Is your sister home? Still dare to say he has no interest in Nora? [Oliver Scott]: Don’t get me wrong, I mean nothing else. [Oliver Scott]: Your sister should be pretty knowledgeable about this, you could just show her the sketches directly. Marcus pretended not to see it, snapped his chopsticks apart, sat down, and started eating. Since the first night he started staying here, he noticed Nora’s hostility towards Evelyn Easton. Regardless of whether Nora was willing to look at them, even if she did, with Oliver’s evaluation... she might end up just sneering at Evelyn and the sketches. Anyway, he doesn’t believe Nora’s mouth could ever say anything nice. [Oliver Scott]: Stop pretending to be dead. [Oliver Scott]: [Nuisance]×100 [Oliver Scott]: [Nuisance]×100 [Oliver Scott]: [Nuisance]×100 The phone was vibrating nonstop. Damn it, this guy, disguised as a cool top student, is actually a chatterbox. Chapters first released on novelꜰire.net Marcus’s brow darkened, he picked up his phone, and replied. [Marcus Shaw]: If you send one more, I’ll make sure you have a rough Monday in class. [Oliver Scott]: [LittlemanFight] [Oliver Scott]: Did you misunderstand again? [Marcus Shaw]: Why do you care so much about her? [Oliver Scott]: I have my reasons. [Oliver Scott]: Do you believe I’ll become withdrawn to show you? [Marcus Shaw]: Don’t you dare not be withdrawn. [Oliver Scott]: Burning bridges after crossing. [Oliver Scott]: Ungrateful. After another bout of pestering without receiving more replies, finally, with a book in hand, Oliver Scott went into self-imposed isolation, no longer messaging. Marcus, who almost blocked Oliver, was finally able to enjoy a peaceful meal. Nora, who had cleared most of the desk, took out Evelyn Easton’s sketches brought back from the Scott family and laid them alongside the blueprints acquired from the renovation designer the day before, spreading them out on the desk. The floor lamp was on, casting a glow over the desk, the warm yellow light juxtaposed against the aged paper, as if piercing through ancient times. Standing quietly beside, Nora’s eyes moved slightly, her gaze rapidly shifting left and right, committing all the patterns to memory to reassemble them in her mind. No idea how much time had passed— The sound of running water from the kitchen washing the dishes suddenly pulled Nora’s attention back. It was at this moment that a certain overlapping, superimposed pattern made Nora raise her eyebrows. Pausing for a few seconds, she quickly picked out one drawing from each set of sketches, compared them carefully, and then curled her lips playfully. Why do the Scott family’s renovation design and Evelyn Easton’s sketches have similar elements?