"What do you say?"
The man leaned against the soft leather seat, his demeanor relaxed, and the water in his eyes shimmered like a mountain spring under the moonlight.
Qiao Xi deliberated and said, "Mr. Huo, I think you knew all along that the painting was a fake."
It was just an intuition.
"How so? I'm hardly a master of cultural relics appraisal."
Qiao Xi furrowed her brows and shared her speculation, "You gave up so decisively at the beginning, and you seemed indifferent in the face of Huo Beiting's humiliation. Most importantly..."
"What is it?"
"The Mr. Huo I know would never buy a painting for thirty-five million. To you, that money would be better spent on meaningful activities." For example, setting up a foundation or making a donation.
He didn't have an interest in feigned refinement or the pursuit of fame and fortune; instead, he was down-to-earth and principled. That's the demeanor of a truly noble gentleman, right?
