Polly Sutton stormed out in a rage; every word that damned man said wasn't worth believing.
Watching Polly stomp away, Victor Parker's mood instantly felt much lighter.
"Did you find out why Mr. Yang has Old Rook's manuscript?" Victor put away his good mood and asked.
"He claims it was a gift from Old Rook back in the day." Andrew Lindsey didn't believe this, though; Old Rook's manuscripts had never been given away to anyone, not even to Victor Parker's father or the Rook Family's eldest, who were so close they practically shared trousers. "But it might not be true—could be another scam to rip us off."
Andrew Lindsey had looked into those scams that deceived Polly Sutton; facts proved they were all false.
"If it's real..." Victor didn't finish his sentence, but his expression was already turning grim.
Even without Victor saying it, Andrew knew that if it were true, Mr. Yang might have been involved in the massacre case back then.
Polly cursed and muttered as she returned to her room, confirming one thing: Victor was a man who took pleasure in bullying her—utterly nasty.
Once again, Polly berated Victor over the phone, with Emma Turner occasionally chiming in agreement from the other side.
"Then why go along with him?"
"I don't have any money," Polly said righteously.
Emma was speechless, almost thinking Polly was now overconfident because of indulgence—couldn't Polly be just flaunting her privilege?
"How many times have you been fooled before, stubbornly handing over cash each time," Emma remarked, standing by the road outside the construction site.
"Maybe this time it's genuine," Polly remained hopeful. "Besides, a designer as renowned as Mr. Yang wouldn't stoop to such tricks, right?"
Emma couldn't understand where her junior's obsessive thoughts came from, but after so many years, even their teacher and senior brother had given up trying to dissuade Polly.
Polly rolled around on the bed a few times, feeling the luxury of a room costing tens of thousands a night to be truly worth its price—a treat to roll about.
"I just feel Victor's brain is messed up."
"Well, it's only messed up around you—one-of-a-kind affection."
"I thank him for that, but wish he'd take back this affection." Polly huffed, lying on the bed.
"If he takes it back, you won't have money to buy the manuscript."
Polly: "..."
Reasonably put. Suddenly sitting up, Polly realized that if she offended Victor now, he might not help her buy the manuscript.
Polly hastily got out of bed, "I'll send you and senior brother the preliminary sketches in an email. Have a look—I need to find Victor."
Emma gazed at the hung-up phone, shaking her head at her ever-impulsive junior; she was always full of life.
As Polly rushed over, Andrew Lindsey was just finishing up a conversation with Victor and came out. Polly darted in but inadvertently bumped into Victor while he was changing.
Polly quickly turned around, pretending not to see.
"Since you're here, I happen to have a question—where's my outfit from last time?" Victor called out to the retreating figure while calmly buttoning up his shirt and approaching Polly.
Polly felt like the proverbial foolish deer stumbling into a trap; now that she was here, it was only right to stick it out.
"The outfit... Well," Polly turned away from Victor, "maybe it wasn't suited for Earth's environment so went on to reincarnate early."
Victor finished buttoning up, smoothing his cuffs, "Twenty-seven thousand, cash or card, Miss Sutton?"
"Deduct it from the thirty million," Polly said, being broke anyway.
Victor nodded, accepting, "Was there something you needed?"
"Victor, you came this time for the Qu Shui Liu Shang manuscript, right? If you can buy it, could I have a look?" Polly expressed that she was absolutely not greedy—not interested in owning it outright.
Victor poured a glass of red wine, settled on the sofa, and looked at Polly stepping cautiously towards him. "My aim with Qu Shui Liu Shang is to turn the Parker Corporation around. And you?"
Polly scratched her head. "If I said it felt like my mission, would you think I'm nuts?"
Victor nodded, "Even if you hadn't said it, I'd think you're nuts."
Polly rolled her eyes upward, growing accustomed to being ridiculed—she didn't get angry anymore.
"If I can recreate Qu Shui Liu Shang, I'm helping you, right?"
After all, no one knows Qu Shui Liu Shang better than she does in this world. If she has the genuine manuscript, even incomplete, she might be able to fill in the gaps.
"Qu Shui Liu Shang was designed by Old Master Rook exclusively for the Parkers—it's proprietary to the Rook and Parker Families. No one else has the right to see it," Victor reminded.
Polly smiled slyly at Victor, "We still have a year before we divorce, right? You could still count me as part of the Parkers."
Previously, she hadn't insisted on a tough divorce—now that was someone clever indeed.
"Polly, you really got some nerve..."
"Thick-skinned—had to be with someone like you," Polly quipped, then, before Victor could respond, she squealed and darted over to the door, clinging to it as she watched Victor inside, "Don't know if it's just my imagination, but I always thought the big fire at the Rook Family was odd—a master architect shouldn't die in a fire at their own home."
Polly finished speaking and bolted out, slamming the door echoingly.
Victor chuckled, "She still has a bit of sense."
Victor invited someone familiar with the hotel to guide Polly around, explaining the functional aspects of each design. The overall style leaned heavily towards service-oriented, with the principle that the customer is king.
Returning to her room, Polly was almost completely exhausted and flopped onto the bed, too drained to move—this hotel was vast; after wandering through it, her legs seemed ready to give way.
When Victor entered, he immediately saw her sprawled out on the bed like a corpse.
Polly glanced at him, seemingly unsurprised that he had the key card to her room, or perhaps too weary to spar with him now, she was genuinely tired.
"Get up."
"No, I'm dead," Polly turned over with difficulty, laying on the bed like a dead person.
Victor turned to leave, "Mr. Yang moved the invitation to tonight. If you don't go, I'll go alone."
"Ah... I'll go," Polly yelled, struggled to get up, slapped her cheeks, and followed him out quickly.
Mr. Yang's estate wasn't far from the hotel, yet it was large; driving from the entrance to the villa took half an hour.
Arriving at the gate, Polly got out with Victor, looked up at the villa's entrance, and felt the style strangely familiar—though she couldn't pinpoint exactly where she'd seen it...