"Perhaps I’m ignorant..." Oliver Scott lightly coughed, "I haven’t heard of them. But honestly, I think in terms of the quality of the paintings, placing these next to ’Ten Thousand Rivers and Mountains’ somewhat lowers Bernardo Quinn’s standards." What if ’Ten Thousand Rivers and Mountains’ is also a copy? Thinking this, Marcus Shaw didn’t speak directly, but he didn’t truly believe in its authenticity either. Glancing at Marcus Shaw, Oliver Scott introduced further: "Also, those antiques on the left side, there’s a mix of real and fake ones. Among the real ones, some are cheap, and some are expensive. I can’t really say the exact prices." "Would ordinary people blatantly display genuine items and mix them with fakes to lower their value?" Marcus Shaw poured cold water directly, instantly extinguishing half of Oliver Scott’s enthusiasm. The Scott family is in the antique business, and Aaron Scott personally loves antiques. If he acquires a genuine piece he adores, he’d definitely treasure it like a gem rather than casually toss it on a bookshelf for people to see. Items displayed casually in the study are either inexpensive or counterfeits. Thinking this, Oliver Scott also began to doubt himself, inevitably questioning his own judgment. His gaze landed on the other side of the bookshelf again, skimmed over books on history, astronomy, geography, mechanics, etc., and pondered, asking: "What’s your sister’s university major?" "Don’t know, I’m not close with her." Marcus Shaw’s eyes drooped and, after scanning the study, he casually said, "Online says she didn’t go to university." Uh, didn’t go to university? Oliver Scott scratched his head in confusion. Recalling Nora Scott’s image reading in the library... a strong sense of dissonance struck his mind, indescribable. Marcus Shaw doesn’t understand antiques or paintings, nor is he interested, and can’t grasp Oliver Scott’s complex psychology. Holding things, he walked toward the bedroom but was called back after a couple of steps— Marcus Shaw was thoroughly annoyed. This guy wasn’t so troublesome in school! Oliver Scott leaned against the door, touched his nose, then lifted his chin slightly, smiled at him, "I have some knowledge of mechanics, and I’ve unlocked that Mechanical Box. Your blueprint, need my help?" Marcus Shaw was stunned. Nora Scott, repeatedly studying the storyboard, suddenly heard a "ding-dong—" sound and snapped back to reality after a while. Gently rubbing her forehead with her fingers, Nora Scott perked up a bit and pulled her phone out from the drawer. [Pedro Langley]: Still awake? [Pedro Langley]: Your grandfather instructed me to supervise you to go to bed early. Nora Scott jolted awake, her sleepiness entirely gone, her mind clear. She got up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, pulled the door open, and the wind leaking in from the balcony made her feel icy cold. Without returning to the bedroom, she looked at the neighboring window, and sure enough, saw a silhouette standing behind a floor-to-ceiling window, tall and slender. The lamp cast the shadow onto the balcony, with the dimly lit bedroom partly dark, vague. She tilted her head, and her gaze met the silhouette’s through the dark night, dim light, piercing wind, separated by layers of glass, briefly connecting. The phone vibrated with music playing, Nora Scott glanced down to see Pedro Langley’s call, and vaguely saw his phone screen flash again when she looked outside. Chuckling softly, Nora Scott answered the call. Before Pedro Langley could speak, she had already opened her mouth, "So you’re acting as a spy now?" "It’s what the elders ask, can’t refuse." Pedro Langley replied perfunctorily, then his tone suddenly changed, "Close the window, it’s cold." Walking to the balcony, she pulled the open window shut, and the gusty wind outside was immediately sealed away. Leaning against the railing, Nora Scott draped her left hand over it, looking sideways at the silhouette standing on the left, "Did you tell him you live next to me?" If not, Easton wouldn’t have given such instructions. Pedro Langley didn’t deny it. "What else did you say?" "Chit-chatting, talked a bit about everything we could." Eyebrows slightly raised, Nora Scott’s voice was low, quite speechless, "You indeed have time on your hands." The phone was silent for two seconds without speaking. As Nora Scott wondered, she heard his calm, powerful voice, "That depends on the person." The words fell against her ear, each wrapped in warmth, touching and soothing, making Nora Scott slightly stunned. Depends on the person? For a moment, her heart sank, splashing into the water and causing ripples; she restrained certain emotions, wanting to ask, but before she could, Pedro Langley had already shifted the topic, "Go to bed early, or I’ll report you."