The priest was led out of Isabel's bedroom, made a cross on his chest, and said to Hancock waiting at the door, "It's done, sir. I've checked and there's currently no residual holy water power, but if you notice anything unusual, please make sure to contact me immediately."
Hancock nodded at him. Although he was somewhat surprised at the priest's sudden interest in checking for the residue of the holy water power in the evening, he saw it as a means for the priest to get something out of it.
Mr. Nihelet wrote a donation check for the church where the priest worked. After handing it to the priest who didn't refuse, he made another cross on his chest and said, "I'll be praying for the young lady of your house and for you all. God bless you."
The priest, with his luggage, slowly exited Nihelet Family Manor. He stood before the dark gray mansion gate, looked back at the mansion, turned around, pushed the gate, and left.
In the swaying shadows of trees under the gray skyline and the cold wind, accompanied by the heavy chimes of the Nihelet family, the car disappeared at the end of the twilight road.
Meanwhile, a pale-faced little girl at the window watched his disappearing figure, with a tightly clenched note in her hand that read in cursive English, "Meet me at the usual place - Doctor."
Before the start of the dinner, Shiller had come to the garden of the Nihelet family, which was just as bleak. He made his way through the claw-like branches of willow trees, saw the deserted, brown branches, dark green cold forest leaves, and the earth as dark as night. Finally, he spotted Isabel on the swing ahead.
Isabel stared at Shiller with that usual intense gaze, but that did not bother him. He sat on another swing by her side and gently swayed.
When he turned to look at Isabel, she shook her head at him and turned back, looking in the direction of the garden.
There was the veranda of the opposite building. A tiny shadow fleeting past, Shiller recognized that it was Henry, the little boy who had been scared by Isabel earlier, seemingly thinking he was well hidden behind a large flower pot, peeping surreptitiously.
Shiller picked up a twig from the ground and started fiddling with it as if bored, asking Isabel some routine questions meanwhile. Isabel kept her head down, not saying a word, while little Henry continued to watch this scene.
Shiller casually switched topics as he peeled off the outer layer of the twig with his finger, "Can you draw, Isabel?"
Isabel shook her head, still not saying anything.
"I think you have hands that are quite suited for painting," He glanced at Isabel and said, "Perhaps you should try painting. With just a sheet of white paper and a pencil, you could produce a beautiful pencil sketch."
He playfully demonstrated with his palm and the half peeled twig in his hand.
"If you want to obtain a sharp and clean contour, you will have to sharpen the pencil a little more."
"Did you know pencil lead also has different levels of hardness? Depending on the hardness of the graphite, the color intensity it leaves on the paper varies."
"The softer pencil is often used for color shading, it works just like this."
"But a hard pencil is used to draw bright tones. Sharpen it, whisk it lightly, and only a small amount of color will be left on the paper, because the pencil lead is very hard."
"You should remember not to sharpen the pencil yourself, Isabel. You can have the butler do it for you, else it could injure your hand."
Shiller patted Isabel's head. She didn't dodge or resist, just sat there in silence. He said, "I think you'll turn out to be a good painter. I can guarantee that."
Shiller threw the twig away and stood up, then left without looking back. Isabel watched the twig he had tossed on the ground. A different emotion flashed across her vacant eyes.
At dinner, people gathered in the hall in small groups, chitchatting. Batman was talking to Mr. Nihelet, Natasha was laughing and flirting in front of stern Hancock, and Beihan started a conversation with Lady Nihelet.
After the afternoon's farce, they had all found their own ways to make headway. Shiller didn't interrupt, instead, he quietly walked to the dining table and took an early seat.
The housekeeper who originally received them walked up to Shiller and handed him a glass of water, saying, "Was it your suggestion that Miss Isabel draw pencil sketches?"
Shiller looked at him puzzled, the housekeeper quickly clarified, "She just asked me whether the art room in the manor is available. When I asked her what she wanted to do, she said a doctor advised her to draw pencil sketches to relieve her emotions."
"Oh." Shiller seemed to understand and smiled, "That wasn't a professional medical suggestion. I just like painting personally, and upon noticing that Miss Isabel has the hands of a painter, I casually suggested it. I didn't expect she would actually be interested."
Shiller sighed lightly, "I have met many people who have found tranquility in the pursuit of art. I'm not sure if this will work for the young master and young miss of the Nihelit family, but there's no harm in trying to kill some time."
The housekeeper also sighed and said, "Honestly, we've tried just about everything to calm Miss Isabel down, but it's rather difficult."
"My nephew stands guard in the garden every day. He's constantly on edge, frightened that Miss Isabel might harm others or herself. Maybe you're right, maybe distracting her would be beneficial."
Shiller gave him a smile, picked up his water glass and took a sip, then he noticed a small figure standing to the side of the dining room entrance. It was the boy called Henry, eavesdropping again.
The boy's stealth skills were rather impressive for someone of his age. It would be hard for any adult to detect him, but compared with Batman, it was like comparing day and night.
From where Shiller was sitting, he couldn't directly see the boy. But unfortunately, the glass was reflective, and the dining room was unlit. Under dim light, the surface of the glassware clearly reflected people's silhouette. As soon as the butler put down the glass, Shiller spotted Henry's figure.
"Henry, Henry!" a woman's voice called out. Shiller recognized it as Lady Nihelet's voice, so he got up, nodded at the butler, and headed toward Lady Nihelet.
"Oh, Doctor Schiller, has Henry bothered you? Henry, don't stand by the door, come here. Don't be so impolite, come and greet Mr. Wayne and Doctor Shiller."
Shiller noticed that Henry clearly looked disdainful. Those little expressions, which he believed were concealed, were like a book revealing Henry's inner emotions.
The boy looked scornful toward his mother and purposefully stood in his spot for a few seconds before walking over as if he was just hearing her. As expected, Lady Nihelet seemed somewhat embarrassed.
Shiller gently squatted down, and facing Henry, he patted his head then his shoulder saying, "Hello, Young Master Henry."
Then he asked some casual questions about Henry's age and his grade level. Having stood back up, Shiller turned to Lady Nihelet and continued their conversation.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a look of incredulous anger flash across Henry's face. The boy subtly crossed his arms and began to stare at his own hands.
It seemed he wanted to interject the conversation, but Shiller and Wayne's topic kept flowing without pauses. The boy did not find any chances to butt in until the dinner ended. All the while, Henry was intently observing Shiller.
After dinner, Shiller took a walk in the garden. Upon entering the garden, he noticed a tiny figure in a room draw the curtains shut and walk out. But he pretended not to see it and made his way to the swing area as though looking for Isabel.
However, Isabel didn't show up that day. After standing there for a while, Shiller started to walk back but was jolted by a small figure which dashed out from around a corner.
The boy fell to the ground, and Shiller immediately went over to help him up. Then he looked at the objects that had scattered on the ground.
There was a sketch board holding a piece of drawing paper, two pencils, and an eraser.
Shiller's eyes immediately rested on the drawing on the board. He went over, bent down and picked up the sketch board, the pencils, and eraser. He then focused on the drawing on the paper.
It was a sketch of the bell tower at the Nihilite Manor. A raven landed on the eaves of the bell tower and both the hands of the giant clock pointed towards the raven, which turned its head to look back at the hands of the clock.
The piece was a clever diagonal echo composition that easily conjured images of a raven, preening its feathers on the bell tower in fading light, curiously glaring at the clock hand pointed at itself. It had a sort of gothic black humor to it.
"Did you draw this?" Shiller put down the sketchpad and asked Henry, who then nodded.
Then Shiller looked at the two pencils in his hand. One had a thicker lead - a soft pencil, and the other had a finer one - a hard pencil.
But sadly, this sketch was drawn using charcoal.
Because the raven's feather was very dark, the traces of the carbon powder smudging were clearly visible. They were entirely different from regular pencil strokes, making it easy to determine this was a charcoal sketch, not a pencil sketch. The difference between the two was really vast.
Even if this were a pencil sketch, it would need at least a dozen pencils ranging from soft to hard to complete to this standard. Even the eraser would have to be of three kinds - high, medium and hard, not the kind of eraser a child would use for homework.
The most crucial evidence was that a charcoal sketch requires a substantial amount of fixative. And from the state of the paper, one could tell when the fixative might have been sprayed. The sketch was probably completed two years ago.
Shiller squatted down and returned the sketchpad to Henry, saying, "It's not right to claim other people's artwork, young man. This piece clearly wasn't drawn by you. If you're moving it elsewhere, please be careful. Don't dirty it. We should respect other people's artistic creations."
Again, Henry glared at Shiller with that look of disbelief and anger. His childish innocence had nearly faded away, leaving only hatred and indifference.
The next morning, Shiller unsurprisingly found the sketch of the raven on the bell tower in a corner of the garden shrubs. The sketch was stepped on several times, thrown into the water, and crumpled into a ball.
Such a naturally rotten seed, Shiller thought, good thing I'm one too.