He knows! He already knows!
Though there was already a vague premonition in her heart, Atifie00 couldn’t help but shiver when Andre casually revealed the truth she had desperately hidden.
Looking at Prince Andre before her, who was focused on painting an oil painting and hadn’t even glanced at her, Atifie00, after a moment of silence, suppressed her violently beating heart and asked as calmly as possible:
"When did you find out about what happened back then?"
Upon hearing Atifie00’s question, Prince Andre’s brush faltered slightly, leaving a speckled stain on Atifie00’s dress hem in the painting.
"Not too early, not too late—right after I killed my father."
Picking up a scraper from the side, Andre Prince removed the speckled stain from Atifie00’s dress position while applying paint again, with an air of loneliness:
"As you said before, my ’talent’ is on par with Feiliya’s, but unlike her, my talent lies in art. In essence, artistic talent is nothing more than superior insight and a far more sensitive inner world than others.
When my father heard my reason for attacking him, his face was not filled with anger and hatred towards me, but rather with sorrow and self-reproach. It was then I realized the truth about what happened back then wasn’t what I had thought."
After fixing the recent mistake, looking at the stern face of the heroic middle-aged man in the center of the canvas, Prince Andre couldn’t help but reach out and gently touch the face of King Fein in the painting, then said with lowered brows and eyes:
"A person who would sacrifice his daughter for power, violating the parental instinct to devote themselves to their children, must be extremely selfish. Such a person, even if wrong, would not blame himself, but would instead try to shirk responsibility and pin it on others. His reaction told me he’s not that kind of person.
Unfortunately, due to what happened back then, every time I saw my father over these years, my mind was filled with Feiliya weeping in pain and asking how long the surgery would take, leaving no room for any extra thoughts.
And by the time I discovered all this and understood things weren’t as I thought—that my father and mother seemed to have their own difficulties—my hands were already stained with blood, and there was no going back... Aunt Atifie."
At this point, Prince Andre suddenly looked up, called out to Atifie00, and then gently asked: Follow current novels on NovᴇlFirᴇ.ɴet
"I’ve finished your portrait; come see if it resembles you?"
"I’d rather not go over..."
Looking at Andre’s increasingly gentle face, some instinct to avoid danger, even after being transformed into a mechanical core, began warning Atifie00 frantically once again.
Faced with Prince Andre’s invitation, she shook her head without hesitation:
"I’ve seen your painting skills, even without looking, I know it must look just like me."
"You should come and take a look."
Two gem scepters—one long, one short—appeared in Andre’s hand at some point. After smiling at the suddenly tense Atifie00, he said:
"Aunt Atifie, you wouldn’t want me to forcibly shut you down over such a trivial matter as just taking a glance at my painting, right?"
Though her instincts kept warning her, faced with the threat of being completely shut down, Atifie00 bit her lip and still stepped forward, stood beside Prince Andre, and looked at the somewhat old canvas on the easel.
The canvas depicted a scene, probably from a royal banquet.
In the long-abandoned garden at the back of the royal palace, several familiar royal family members were gathered around King Fein and his spouse, along with two fully grown princes, sitting on the dais behind them.
And on the green lawn ahead, a dozen or so children not yet matured were chasing and playing, scrambling for a colorful painted gold ball; the child leading the pack seemed to be a young Andre.
Looking at this joyous and peaceful painting, and herself in the corner with thick glasses, holding a brain model while measuring and writing something, Atifie00’s heart calmed a bit. Then she said somewhat nostalgically:
"Is this from Feiliya’s first birthday, when Fein invited clan members and his friends to the palace banquet with their children?"
After glancing at the queen holding a pink baby with green eyes, and then at the scene of chasing balls with carefree abandon on the grass, Prince Andre put down the brush and scepter and said, full of warmth:
"That day was the happiest of my life... If only time could stop flowing and forever stay on that day, Aunt Atifie, wouldn’t it be wonderful?"
Looking at Andre’s increasingly gentle expression, Atifie00 couldn’t help but unconsciously hold her breath, then nodded in agreement:
"That period was indeed nice, quite nostalgic."
"It’s wonderful that you feel that way."
After laughing towards Atifie00, Prince Andre grabbed her arm, and then, with an expression of surprise, pressed her hand forcefully against the canvas on the still-wet ’Atifie’.
"Aunt Atifie, I hope you can be happy in the future."
Hearing Prince Andre’s strange blessing, Atifie was suddenly shocked, but before she could speak, the canvas Atifie suddenly began to move.
In Atifie’s terrified eyes, those colorful paints astonishingly left the old canvas, climbing along her fingers rapidly to cover her entire body.
She only felt her left hand slightly sink, holding an old brain model; her right fingertip grabbed a quill, and worse, her entire view became dazed, an abrupt yet harmonious thick-bottomed glasses perched on her nose as if it always belonged there.
"Don’t worry, Aunt Atifie, everything will be fine."
Watching Atifie, covered in colorful oil paints with form, clothes, and facial features all morphing into his memory of her, Prince Andre nodded satisfactorily and gently responded:
"You wait over there for a while; Feiliya and I will arrive later, everyone won’t be missing."
"Look, the banquet has already begun."
Gesturing to the lively feast that somehow began, with glasses clinking and laughter, Andre softly said:
"Aunt Atifie, father and the others have waited for you many years; look, they’re waving at you!"
With Andre’s words, the final piece of paint covered her, completely masking Atifie00’s terrified face. When she reopened her eyes, it was no longer the original chamber, but the host-guest enjoying banquet from years ago.
And King Fein, who had died years ago, was frowning at her holding the brain model and notes, cuffs stained with ink and smudges, giving a helpless yet doting look.
After calling out, King Fein, sitting on the ground, waved to her, and admonished:
"Can’t you put down those studies? Even at big brother’s banquet, you must bring them?"
Watching his sister standing dazedly, King Fein doubtfully frowned.
"What’s wrong? Why are you silent?"
"I... I’m very busy! The development of Soul Code is at a critical stage. If you hadn’t insisted, I wouldn’t have come!"
After a few seconds of delay, Atifie00 mirrored his helpless expression, complaining with a headache:
"Just this once, next time don’t call me!"