"This is the chanical Lotus I created based on my grandfather’s design. It took three months and a bit of effort, but the results are worth looking forward to..."
Blah, blah, blah.
Yet another heap of high-sounding words, describing the painstaking process of creating the chanical Lotus, which made people drowsy.
So impatient spectators, listening to him speak slowly and thodically, really felt like rushing up and beating him, then showing off this so-called chanical Lotus themselves.
After three minutes of agony, Ethan Scott finally finished the introduction.
"Please watch."
Ethan stepped aside with a confident smile, even a bit of pride and smugness.
The crowd was eagerly anticipating.
"Click."
Ethan pressed the chanism button.
What followed was not the expected "clack" sound of the chanism working but instead—
"Crackle—"
"Clang—"
At that mont, Ethan heard the sound of the world shattering.
Disheartening, hopeless, suffocating.
"..."
Everyone present remained silent in unison.
In the courtyard, the atmosphere turned awkwardly terrifying.
Under their focused attention, everyone witnessed how the once-intact object shattered into pieces, falling to the ground with a crackling sound.
Instant disintegration.
"..."
Silence, silence, silence.
Rigid, rigid, rigid.
The air froze, the atmosphere quieted, and breaths halted.
Ethan was completely petrified, his expression slowly cracking, as if a gust of wind could scatter him into grains of sand.
And, Aaron Scott, who had great confidence in Ethan, had a look of triumph on his face when Ethan pressed the button, but this unexpected scene turned his triumph into shock, his eyes bulging.
"Clap, clap."
So clueless person started clapping.
"Great!"
"Innovative!"
A few young people acted without thinking, loudly shouting their support for Ethan’s work.
To prevent the atmosphere from becoming more suffocating, people nearby hurriedly grabbed the ignorant ones who were yelling and whispered in their ears: Stop clapping, can’t you see it’s a failed work?! Be mindful of the atmosphere!
However—
"Clap, clap."
There was still clapping, abrupt and from just one person.
Everyone couldn’t help but look over.
The one clapping was Henry Chapman, expressionless, like an emotionless clapping machine.
Under the bewildered gaze of everyone, he stopped clapping and comnted earnestly, "Going against the tide, creative."
Ethan: "..." Damn your creativity!
When did he have a grudge with Henry Chapman?!
"Clap, clap, clap."
At the sa ti, more clapping was heard.
This ti, the sound didn’t co from the supporters but from the direction of the main gate.
Everyone looked up, seeing three figures.
In the middle was a young woman, dressed in black, as beautiful as a Heavenly Immortal, though with a cold deanor, her beauty carried a sharp edge, yet her stunning allure was undeniable.
On either side of her were a handso young man and a middle-aged man in a suit.
The young man, about twenty-seven or eight, had a tall and straight figure, a face with deep contours, cold and hard facial features, defined edges, sharp eyes hinting at an inner fierceness, sweeping over with a chilling gaze that sent shivers down the spine.
The middle-aged man stood with them, not overshadowing their sharpness, yet held his own, with a straight posture, an imposing deanor, a stable and restrained aura, his presence equally unignorable.
The three approached together, prompting whispers from those familiar with them.
"Master Pedro? He actually ca?"
"Who is that beautiful woman?"
"The person beside her is Aaron Scott’s second son, Ernesto Scott. I reckon that beautiful woman is undoubtedly the daughter he brought ho, Nora Scott."
...
As they got closer, the three stopped.
Flora Loughton blinked with joy, cheerily encouraging her own son while looking in amazent at the imposing aura of Nora Scott.
!
This daughter-in-law of hers was too cool!
Nora slightly tilted her head, her gaze sweeping across the whole scene, making everyone feel a chill, their scalps tingling.
"Trying to paint a tiger only to end up like a dog," Nora coldly curled her lips with a mischievous glint in her eyes, raised an eyebrow, and directed a piercing gaze at Ethan, "Look, isn’t it karma?"
Upon seeing Nora, Ethan, who was in a state of extre embarrassnt, finally began to slowly react.
Staggering forward a couple of steps, Ethan’s eyes turned red, disregarding manners and decorum, and stared nacingly at Nora, "Was it you who tampered with it?!"
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