Ethan Clark's brush hovered in his hand for a long time, refusing to touch the paper. Gradually, thick ink gathered at the tip, forming a bead that slowly dropped with a faint plop onto the snowy white xuan paper, seeping out into a tiny black blossom.

Old Clark shot a glance at Henry Clark, who hurried forward with a smile and said, "Young master, I forgot that the young mistress wanted to write couplets. I'll go get a new sheet of red paper." With that, he reached for the soiled xuan paper.

"It doesn't matter, you may step back. After all, what everyone wants to see is just my calligraphy. Whether it's xuan paper or red paper, it doesn't matter anymore." Ethan Clark pulled his drifting thoughts back and spoke coldly. His deep voice slipped into Emily Lane's ears, making her heart tremble slightly.

Ethan Clark glanced up at Emily Lane, let out a long sigh, and lowered his right hand, wrist suspended, onto the xuan paper. With a hook, a circle, and a stroke, the ink stain was transformed with a few deft touches into a lifelike little sparrow. Then, his brush moved swiftly, swirling left and right, darting up and down, and in a moment, a still life painting of balanced shades appeared on the xuan paper.

With a wall as the background, green vines covered its surface, and a few sparrows could be seen among them—some pecking for food, some raising their heads to sing, others about to spread their wings and fly. Each had a different posture, vivid and full of life.

With a soft sigh, Ethan Clark's brush suddenly paused on the paper. After a brief thought, two lines of Tao Yuanming's poetry appeared on the page: "In early summer, the grass and trees grow long; around the house, the trees are lush and shady."

Stirred by emotion, his strong brushstrokes penetrated the paper, the characters bold and powerful, like dragons and snakes dancing.

When he finished, Ethan Clark tossed the brush to the ground, ignored the stunned onlookers, and drifted into the house. He closed the door behind him, leaned against it, and suddenly felt a wave of loss and amusement. What was wrong with him? What was he getting so worked up about when it was “Ethan Clark” that Emily Lane and the others looked down on?

Emily Lane had already come up to him when he started writing after finishing the painting. Staring at the calligraphy and painting before her, it took her a long time to recover. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would never have believed that this was done by Ethan Clark. Emily Lane had studied literature and calligraphy since childhood and was considered a talented woman before her marriage. This work was seamless; whether in brushwork or spirit, it showed profound skill—she knew there was no way it could be faked.

This? This? Was this the good-for-nothing rake Ethan Clark she knew? Could it be that all his past behavior was just an act? But why would he pretend? Emily Lane's heart trembled as she looked toward the main house, her clear eyes tinged with confusion, doubt, and a faint trace of joy.

She and Ethan Clark had been betrothed since childhood, her family also wealthy merchants in the county. After Ethan Clark's parents died, his reputation for debauchery spread. Her parents wanted to break off the engagement, but she threatened her life and refused to marry anyone else, so she eventually married him. However, on their wedding night, they barely spoke before parting in anger—Ethan Clark actually left her to seek pleasure at a brothel... After that, she repeatedly urged Ethan Clark to change his ways and study hard, but he always ignored her, gambling and visiting brothels as he pleased. Emily Lane was utterly disappointed and, in despair, secluded herself in the inner courtyard, never interfering in Ethan Clark's affairs again. Ethan Clark was happy to be left alone and didn't bother with her either. For months, they lived in peace, rarely even seeing each other.

In the past two days, hearing from Liam Young that Ethan Clark hadn't gone out seeking pleasure, and after tasting the fish he cooked and seeing his calligraphy, Emily Lane's eyes lit up. Deep within her once-calm heart, a ripple of hope arose, prompting her to step out of the inner courtyard for the first time... This outcome was unexpected for Emily Lane. Yet it also made her excited.

Her heart surging, Emily Lane walked gracefully to the main house door, reached out her slender hand, and gently knocked on the door lattice, softly saying, "Husband, could you open the door?"

Ethan Clark leaned against the doorframe in an unusual silence, neither opening the door nor making a sound. He felt he couldn't face this woman who called him husband just yet. For now, it was best to keep things as they were. As for the future, he would think about it later.

Emily Lane had wanted to talk to Ethan Clark face to face; she had countless questions in her heart that needed answers. But seeing that he didn't open the door, she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. She turned away sadly, sighed softly, and walked back toward the inner courtyard. Liam Young and Lucy Young hurried after her, calling, "Miss!"

"Back to the room." Emily Lane didn't look back and quickened her pace.

Not only Emily Lane, but Ethan Clark's behavior also greatly shocked Old Clark and his son Henry Clark. The Ethan Clark of recent days was completely different from the Ethan Clark of the past! He understood painting and calligraphy, could cook, even knew martial arts—his character and temperament had taken a sharp turn... All of this had changed so suddenly.

The old Ethan Clark had disappointed them, but the current Ethan Clark, while bringing them comfort, also gave them an indescribable sense of unfamiliarity.

...