“Is this… the actual Starry Night? The actual painting?” asked Nigel. Sage rolled her eyes at Nigel.
“The real Starry Night is currently placed at the Museum of Modern Art.”
Nigel knew that he asked a dumb question, but it only further accentuated how good the forgery was.
Even Wayne was surprised when he saw it. “Spectacular. Some techniques are still quite
underdeveloped, but the ability to replicate such minute details is astounding.” Wayne even stopped
smoking in fear of damaging the replica. After carefully examining the replica, Wayne finally turned to
Sage and said, “This replica is even better than yours.”
“I think the technique seems identical to what you’d usually use. Are you sure it’s not one of your
disciples?” asked Sage.
Both Sage and Wayne were infinitely more interested in the replica than anything else that happened in
the afternoon. “I don’t have any disciples except for you. After all, our family has been working in the
jade industry for years.
“Besides, I only learned forgery out of interest. I never invested much time into perfecting my
techniques. Furthermore, after all these years of chainsmoking, the trembling forced me into early
retirement,” answered Wayne.
Different art techniques had different requirements. For example, a master forger could not have any
callouses on their fingertips as they needed to feel the minute difference in the paint strokes.
However, it was impossible for somebody who works with jade, as working with tools would naturally
cause thick calluses to develop on their fingertips.
Sage had always been more interested in jade carving compared to forgery.
Luther was suddenly hit with a realization. He turned towards Sage and asked, “Is that why you used to
grind your fingertips on sandpaper? Did you know how worried we were when we saw your hands
covered in blood?”
Tim also could not help but furrow his brows when he remembered what happened when they were
kids.
Nigel continued, “When you came back with your hands covered in blood, for some reason, 1 thought
that you were going to dissect bodies. I even got my scalpel and followed you.” “Haha! Now that you’ve
said that, I still remember how you cried like a little puppy after that * ss whooping that mom gave you
when you refused to stay home,” said Luther.
“Who are you calling a puppy?” asked Nigel, enraged.
“Bark, bark,” replied Luther. Sage could not help but be amused by how childish her brothers were.
Tim was, of course, unimpressed by their display of immaturity. However, when he saw the corners of
Sage’s mouth curl slightly, he allowed the brothers to continue.
Before things could escalate further, Seth finally stepped in. “That’s enough.”
Wayne, on the other hand, remained unperturbed with his attention undivided. His gaze seemed to be
fixated on the replica.
Wayne asked Sage without turning away from the replica, “Did you ask Mendoza who made this?”
“I did. He didn’t say anything. He told us that we would get our answers when we return to Nadeem
City,” said Sage. “What’s the use of teasing us? Who cares who forged this? I don’t!” exclaimed Wayne,
enraged. However, everybody knew that Wayne was actually very curious about the identity of the
master forger. When they returned to Sage’s residence, the sun had long set. Ever since Sage came
back from Yathein, she had been awfully lethargic. The moment Sage reached home, she only wanted
to crash into her bed and fall into a deep slumber, free from all the annoyance of the world.
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