The True Mistress Has A Thousand Hidden Identities

Clang!

On the table was an expensive watch.

James said deadpan, “Do you want to bribe me with this?”

Derek shrugged and smiled innocently. “Believe it or not, I mean it.”

“By the way,” he stood up, supported the table with both hands, and slowly leaned close to James’s ear.

Then he let out a low chuckle from his throat. “I found that learning English is fun. I may come to ask you questions about the language frequently. Please teach me well, Mr. Walker.”

With that, he kicked the chair back and walked away at a leisurely pace, looking arrogant and unruly.

James rubbed his temple, feeling rather helpless.

Phoebe went back home.

It was still early, and the sun hadn’t set and rosy clouds rolled in the sky.

Phoebe asked the servants to take her painting tools to the back garden.

She was going to attend a painting contest in the near future, so she needed to practice her painting more.

Sitting on a stool and holding a palette, she picked up the paintbrush to mix the colors.

Halfway through the painting, the hall became noisy.

She turned her head and looked over.

Claire walked into the door and was followed by a dark-skinned boy.

It was that bumpkin.

Phoebe frowned.

How dare Claire bring him home?

The servants were talking and pointing at them contemptuously, and no one was willing to come forward to receive them.

“How dare she bring this kind of person home? It’s outrageous.”

“Oh, that’s Madam’s favorite sofa. What if he gets the sofa dirty?”

“Look at him, looking around like a bumpkin.”

Phoebe gave a contemptuous smile.

The two lowly people matched well.

“Let me pour you a glass of water.” Claire walked to the kitchen.

The servants immediately scattered.

Phoebe went on to draw and outlined the lines.

“You can’t draw like that.”

A voice suddenly sounded behind her.

Phoebe was startled and turned around, only to see Bruce standing behind, carefully observing her painting.

Phoebe moved aside with disgust to distance herself from him.

Bruce pointed to her painting on the ground and said seriously, “You are just imitating other people’s styles. Although beginners should start by imitating, they still have to find out their own style as soon as possible. Blind imitation won’t work in the long run.”

Phoebe put down the paintbrush with a snap and sneered. “Do you know how to paint? Cut the crap!”

“Huh?” Bruce said innocently, “Don’t be angry. I just…”

“Bruce.” Claire walked over with the water, glanced at Phoebe’s painting, and said to him, “Don’t waste time on her. Let’s go upstairs.”

When the two left the back garden side by side, Phoebe threw the painting on the ground in anger.

Bruce’s words were stuck to her heart like thorns.

Art had always been something she was proud of, but after studying painting for so many years, she was still imitating others and couldn’t find her own style!

They came to Claire’s room.

Claire handed the water to Bruce. “Take a seat.”

Bruce sat on the chair and took a mouthful of water. “Is she your foster mother’s biological daughter?”

“Yes.”

Bruce curled his lips. “She is not at all as gentle as Aunty Amy.”

Claire didn’t respond to his words but changed the subject. “When is your solo exhibition?”

Bruce chuckled stupidly. “Next Wednesday. Do come by then.”

Claire gave him an OK gesture.

Bruce’s grandfather was the current king’s secretary-general. When Bruce was born, his parents died in an accident. The fortune-teller said that his fate was strange and he had to be sent to the countryside and couldn’t be taken back until he was 18 years old.

Therefore, Bruce was sent to the countryside by his grandfather and was raised by nannies. That’s how he became Claire’s neighbor.