The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 334 Ch.333 That’s true

Randolph only found out how many works Victor Sala had given away during his lifetime.

Quite a lot indeed.

——It’s no wonder that many people ridiculed him in newspapers.

You must know that a real 'artist' (as they think) must at least have his own persistence, style, morality, a spark of inspiration and a reasonable use of this spark - then he will never be like Victor Sarah also 'reproduced' so many works in a short period of time.

He didn't sell it for a penny, but he gave it away everywhere.

This can only prove one thing: he wants to impress some people with his worthless works and let them speak for him.

He wants praise, praise, and the mouth and throat of the person who received the sculpture.

He wants fame.

This is simply what those philistine businessmen with low morals do.

Note: This happened within the past six months.

To be more specific: within three months.

But what role can these ‘inferior’ works play?

Only in exchange for ridicule and contempt.

No matter what was received or not received - the good news is that Randolph acted quickly and quickly sent letters through various channels to the gentlemen and ladies who held Victor's works, and the reply also stated:

The pieces are all in good condition.

Not lost or damaged.

The bad news is: most of the replies devoted a lot of space to questioning Victor Sala's behavior during his lifetime (because you can't say anything bad to the deceased, the words are very tactful, but never so tactful that Randolph can't see it) .)

He gave away a large number of his works, only to take them all back after his death.

This is not very honorable.

but…

Many people came to the salon.

Because of the surname Taylor, and also because of the "golden smoke".

“If the extraordinary Mr. Victor Sala knew that so many gentlemen and ladies would gather together because of him after his death, he would surely be able to drink a lot of rum in hell again.”

The sound beats like a note.

Roland took a sip of champagne and stood in a corner where he could watch the entire garden.

Louis Heyman was present at the Salon as the Heyman family—and as the bearer of one of the sculptures.

Victor gave one of these to Hyman before his death.

Dusk is darker.

As the guests arrived one after another, the servants wiped away their sweat and filled the huge lawn with statues in different postures.

—The gentlemen and ladies to whom the gift was given expressed their readiness to return it, and they did so.

For Tyler's sake.

"I found it in the warehouse."

Louis Heyman held the thin orange rose in his hand and shook it lightly from time to time: "It was almost smashed by the servant and swept away..."

He said.

Randolph Taylor first thanked all the guests present, then asked the band to play music and the servants to serve.

The statues stood one after another on the lawn, around each guest - Roland could see the disgust on their faces.

For a dishonorable clumsy stonemason who considers himself an artist, a 'cursed' or 'unknown infectious disease' person who may not have died so honorably...

He didn't say it with his mouth, but it was very clear on his face.

What a bore, Victor Sala.

They walked around the stone sculptures and refused to get closer. From time to time they took out their pocket watches and counted the time to say goodbye.

"The heir to the Taylor family shouldn't be so willful." Louis was not optimistic about Randolph's approach - which would undoubtedly offend many people.

They were present because of this surname, but it was only this time.

The gentleman wearing musical note earrings chattered and expressed his opinions in a low voice.

"Not all of the Taylor family's connections come from little Taylor. If your friend insists on doing this -"

Until Roland spoke hesitantly.

"…gentlemen."

"What?"

"Bring me a beef pie."

Louis Hyman:…

For the first time, Louis was aroused by a spark of anger during the conversation - but the flame was fleeting and extinguished, leaving a helpless smoke.

Roland Collins.

"Sorry, I'm hungry."

Louis twitched the corners of his mouth slightly and glanced at the passing maids and the tables filled with food and drinks.

He actually brought a stack of triangular pies to Roland.

This time, he didn't talk so much.

"Roland Roland!"

A girl from the side called him.

"See you soon, Roland." Louis sucked all the juice from the rose, stared at the dusk scene where the light and shadow were intertwined, said goodbye, and walked into the crowd to participate in the lively entertainment.

Here came Beatrice in a blue one-line dress and Miss Bronte in a light gray dress.

The blonde girl was laughing and waving to him, like a jewelry rack filled with gems and gold.

"trembling."

There is a big arrow after this word.

"If you can make her jump in place just a few times..."

-

If you could just shut up.

"Seriously, you can have a competition with her: where to put the gold pound, and whoever flips it out first wins..."

-

If you could just shut up.

"Your big bat can't compete in a game like this."

-

She can.

"how do you know."

Soul asked back.

Roland pursed his lower lip, put down the plate, and smiled again: "Hey, Betty."

"Roland, Roland, Roland, I miss you!"

"How long has it been since we last met?"

"For a long time!"

"Yeah?"

"Yes! That's right!"

"You want to guess, do I miss you?"

"you have not?"

"Think about it."

"It's so kind of you!"

Bronte, who was following behind, saw her young lady and the handsome gentleman playing around like children. This originally extremely disgraceful behavior became pleasing to the eye with the blessing of 'face' - many people noticed this scene. And they all laughed in similar wonderful arcs.

Although some eyes are still full of disgust.

"I've always been this good and I will always be this good."

"Really?"

Roland nodded: "Really."

Beatrice couldn't stop laughing.

"I really don't understand how she can have so many happy things all day long." Bronte came quickly, bowed politely, greeted Roland, and deliberately adjusted her angle so that she could face him head-on. Sir: "Are you feeling well?"

"Of course. But Randolph hasn't been doing well lately."

A look of worry flashed across Bronte's face at the mention of Randolph Taylor.

Her eyes slanted to the lawn for a moment, and her nasal voice was a little thick: "My husband's friend left, I know it. He locked himself in the study all night..."

Roland: "But I don't read."

Beatrice clapped her hands and laughed.

Bronte glanced at Roland reproachfully: "You are also his friend, you should..."

"I've done what a friend should do, Miss Bronte. It's time for others to provide comfort and companionship."

Bronte smoothed his hair and turned his head slightly to avoid it.

"...Teresa comforted him."

"Yes." Roland sighed softly: "He needs comfort and companionship. Betty, please spend more time with your brother recently, okay?"

"Brother..." Beatrice tilted her head: "But I still want to paint."

"What should I do?" Roland lowered his lips: "He is lonely."

Beatrice followed suit and had the same grimace as Roland.

Think and think...

Suddenly I remembered that there was someone beside me.

"Little Bear!" She tugged on Bronte's sleeve: "Stay with my brother."

Bronte:…

"Miss, I'm afraid I have to accompany you."

"Stay with my brother."

"I can't leave your side."

"Stay with my brother!"

Bronte:…

He glared at Roland who was suppressing a smile.

"...Tomorrow, okay?" He began to discuss with Beatrice.

However, the most valuable person in the Taylor family never consulted with anyone.

"Now!"

"Miss…"

"Now go and accompany my brother! Little bear, little bear, little bear—"

She started to argue.

The sound is getting louder and louder.

Of course, Bronte noticed the vague gazes around her. As the tone of her voice became higher, they gradually focused on her and Beatrice...

"...Okay, now, I'll go now." She sighed, planning to go to Randolph to change Teresa: "Please help me take care of Miss Taylor, Mr. Collins."

"certainly."

Bronte left in style, leaving Beatrice and Roland behind.

"Will she take good care of my brother?"

"Will do."

"Just like I take good care of you, take good care of my brother?" The big blue-purple eyes were full of pride: "Really?"

Roland smacked his lips and shook his head: "No, it's still a little worse." He leaned over and whispered softly: "...You even bought me a dragon."

Beatrice made a sound and nodded seriously: "That's true."