The assistant hesitated. "Mr. Frederick Vanderbilt has quite an eccentric temperament. It's difficult for strangers to secure a meeting with him."

Ethan Sullivan responded indifferently before ending the call.

His fingers tapped lightly on the desk as he dialed his grandfather's number.

The call connected.

"Grandfather, do you know Frederick Vanderbilt? A Chinese-American collector in his seventies, obsessed with authentic Fan Kuan paintings."

After a long pause, the elder replied, "We crossed paths thirty years ago. Why do you ask?"

"How close were you?"

"I once did him a significant favor."

Ethan felt reassured. "Understood."

His grandfather grumbled, "You called me in the middle of the night just for this?"

"Yes, it's urgent."

"When are you bringing Sophia back? Your grandmother misses her."

A shadow flickered in Ethan's eyes.

How could they meet when everything had fallen apart?

"She's busy with work. Maybe later."

The old man grew impatient. "Tell her to take care of herself! She shouldn't overwork while pregnant. The family doesn't need her income."

The word "pregnant" stabbed like a knife into Ethan's heart.

His throat tightened as he forced a few polite words before hanging up.

He contacted Frederick Vanderbilt personally.

After being transferred by the secretary, the collector immediately took the call upon hearing William Sullivan's name.

After exchanging pleasantries, Ethan cut to the chase. "I heard you're searching for a replica of Travelers Among Mountains?"

Frederick laughed heartily. "Indeed! But the seller of an exceptional piece I recently found suddenly backed out."

Ethan's expression darkened.

Someone was definitely interfering.

"What a coincidence. That painting is in my possession."

Frederick gasped. "Truly? I'm in Kyoto right now!"

"Would you honor me with a meeting tomorrow?"

Once the appointment was set, Ethan returned to the study.

He pulled Sophia into his arms, his fingertips brushing her pale cheek.

"I've confirmed it was Frederick who wanted the painting. He admires your work deeply and thought you refused to sell."

Sophia's pupils trembled.

The ashes of her heart suddenly reignited.

She clutched Ethan's sleeve. "He truly likes it?"

Ethan chuckled. "Enough to lament when he heard you'd changed your mind."

Sophia bit her lip.

So Zachary had lied to her.

Ethan pinched the tip of her nose. "Losing your appetite over something like this? How childish."

He unrolled the scroll, examining it closely.

"Who would've thought such grandeur and brushwork came from my Sophia?"

Finally, a smile broke through her tears.

That night, she ate heartily until her stomach rounded slightly.

As Ethan watched her, his thoughts drifted to the child they'd lost.

The desire to remarry burned stronger than ever.

At dusk the next day, under the glow of city lights, Sophia carried the painting as they arrived at the penthouse suite.

The assistant who opened the door scrutinized them with sharp eyes.

The sitting room was fragrant with tea.

When Frederick emerged from the inner chamber, Sophia's breath caught.

Though silver-haired, the elderly man moved with vigor. The sandalwood prayer beads peeking from his traditional sleeves gleamed faintly, each golden speck whispering tales of time.

"An honor to meet you," Ethan said with deference.

Frederick's gaze locked onto the scroll. "Let's see the painting first."

As the canvas unfurled, the old man froze.

His trembling hands traced the towering peaks, lingering over the cascading waterfall.

"This essence..." His voice cracked. "It's identical to the original I saw at the Palace Museum thirty years ago."

A tear fell onto the rice paper, leaving a faint mark.