Chapter 244


    Chapter 244 The Illness Intensified


    The scene fell silent.


    There was no more shocking revtion than this!


    They had praised Not-So-Ordinary, ridiculed Ziana, and evenpared the two to belittle Ziana, as


    if she were nothing special.


    And what was the result?


    Not-So-Ordinary turned out to be Ziana!


    Those who blindly praised were also those who blindly criticized!


    Everyone felt their faces burning with shame!


    What had they done?


    They wanted Ziana to better understand herself, but in reality, it was these hypocritical people who


    should better understand the truth!


    It was beyond embarrassing! It was the most embarrassing thing in the universe!


    The scene fell into a rare silence.


    Thankfully, the host was quick-witted and took the initiative to change the topic, naturally asking


    questions rted to the art exhibition.


    As a fan of Not-So-Ordinary, the host was naturally excited to meet Ziana, and asked her for advice.


    The two of them talked about things rted to painting, including some discussions on painting


    techniques.


    Ziana spoke eloquently, with a hint ofzy arrogance in her expression, but her tone was respectful and


    rtable to everyone.


    As they asked and answered, they gradually attracted the attention of the guests below.


    Those who came to the art exhibition all had some artistic knowledge.


    -After listening to her conversation with the host, those who had initially doubted that Ziana was a


    fake were nowpletely convinced!


    Her understanding of color harmony, and her ability to teach the techniques of painting light, were all at


    the level of a master.


    She used her own profession and ability to make the most powerful response!


    As a result, guests took turns taking the microphone, eagerly engaging in professional exchanges


    with Ziana.


    From the polite “Miss Scott” at the beginning, to the respectful “Master Scott”ter on, Ziana remained


    unaffected and steadfast, with her own calm demeanor.


    Ziana remained calm andposed, unmoved by the various names people called her. She exuded a


    sense ofposure that was unshakable.


    The microphone was passed to another guest at this point.


    The host received a signal from Ziana’s eyes and said, “Alright! We’re almost out of time. We’ll ask


    three more questions, so guests, make the most of this opportunity and ask the question you’ve been


    dying to know the answer to!”


    The host then turned to the guest who had the microphone and motioned for him to speak.


    The guest was a young man who looked like a college student.


    He seemed to be introverted and shy, and at this moment, he stood up under the gaze of everyone, his


    face filled with a hint of embarrassment. “Master Scott… hello, I am your fan. I was deeply impressed


    with your grand worldview framework when I first saw your exhibition a few years ago… so, today when


    I saw your series of works called ‘Renunciation,’ I was even more surprised.”


    This statement struck a chord with everyone present.


    Ziana’s personal style was very obvious. Her painting style and techniques tended to be more


    masculine.


    She was concise and to the point, never beating around the bush. Her style was so cold, hard, and.


    arrogant that she was once mistaken for a man.


    No one expected her to paint such romantic and warm works.


    Ziana smiled, “What’s so surprising about that?”


    “It doesn’t match your style,” the young man said.


    Ziana tilted her head, “I’ve always been trying out new styles.”


    The young man hesitated for a moment, embarrassed as he asked, “I wanted to know if the works in


    your paintings are based on your real-life experiences.”


    Boris, sitting in the guest seat, pursed his lips.


    He ced his hand on his leg, seemingly an ordinary move, but he quietly clenched it tightly.


    From his angle, he could see Ziana’s expression clearly. He stared at Ziana, but Ziana didn’t even


    nce back at him.


    Ziana calmly shook her head, “No, that’s just artistic creation. There is no prototype.”


    N?velDrama.Org holds this content.


    After hearing this, the young man’s tone rxed, “So Master Scott, what you’re saying is that it’s not


    based on your emotional experiences?”


    “Of course not,” Ziana affirmed, “it’s not.”


    The young man got the answer he was hoping for, and his face was filled with a smile.


    He happily wished Ziana, “Then I hope Master Scott can have a happy and sweet rtionship.”


    “1 will.”


    Two more people stood up to ask questions, but Boris didn’t hear anything.


    All he could hear echoing in his mind was Ziana’s denial.


    Clearly, there was a prototype.


    Clearly, there was an experience.


    Clearly, something had happened in the past.


    Clearly, he did exist in Ziana’s life.


    But she denied it all.


    She denied their past, and with one sentence, she casually concealed all traces of Boris’ existence.


    Boris realized how painful it was to be the person who was not publicly acknowledged.


    It wasn’t jealousy, it wasn’t anger, but rather a heart-wrenching bitterness.


    Boris thought of the past three years, the days when she was hidden away for various reasons.


    Was this how she felt all the time?


    Boris felt a heavy ache in his chest, and an inexplicable sadness overtook him.


    Since taking the medication, his hands had not trembled frequently, but now, due to his emotional


    turmoil, they shook uncontrobly again.


    Vivi was by his side, and she looked at Boris unexpectedly. “Boris, what’s wrong?”


    This sudden nce startled Vivi.


    Boris’ eyes were bloodshot.


    She whispered, “Is there something wrong with you?”


    Boris didn’t say anything. He turned his head and closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead repeatedly.


    The meeting was a great sess.


    After it ended, Ziana waved goodbye amidst thunderous apuse.


    People began to leave the venue one by one.


    Vivi frequently looked at Boris beside her. When almost everyone had left, she tentatively asked Boris,


    “Boris, are you feeling better? I’ve already called Mr. Sam. He’s on his way. Let’s go to the hospital!”


    Biber arrived quickly.


    After Biber entered, he saw that Boris was not okay, especially when he saw Boris’s bloodshot eyes,


    his face turned pale.


    “Let’s go to the hospital!” Biber decided on the spot.


    Vivi wanted to go with them, but Biber nned to send someone to take her back..


    “I want to be with Boris,” Vivi insisted.


    But Biber looked annoyed and said, “I’m with him, so you don’t need toe with us.”.


    After that, Biber directly closed the car door, leaving only a face full of exhaust fumes as he drove


    away.


    Vivi watched them disappear into the distance, and as she recalled Boris’ strange expression, her


    brows furrowed tighter and tighter.


    The car was speeding so fast that Vivi was left behind in the blink of an eye.


    Biber nced at the rearview mirror and asked sternly, “Why did you suddenly have an attack? I


    thought you just attended an art exhibition today. What happened? Who provoked you?”


    Boris shook his head, not even bothering to speak at this moment.


    In fact, even without asking, Biber probably knew who was responsible for this.


    But Boris’ condition had clearly worsened.


    The illness that could be controlled with medication had now intensified, making things more difficult.


    Biber pressed down hard on the elerator and soon saw Hank.


    Hank was shocked to see Boris with red eyes.