Adam Sullivan looked troubled. “I’ll figure something out. After all, I’m going to be the chairman of the club in the future.”

“Then what about me? Am I the manager or the owner?”

“You’re the vice chairman.” Adam Sullivan grasped his hand and greeted him sincerely, “Hello, Vice Chairman Clark. Have you eaten, Vice Chairman Clark?”

Henry Clark felt awkward. He vaguely sensed that any title with “vice” in front of it always sounded a bit unpleasant. His chubby hand was being shaken by Adam Sullivan, making him feel quite embarrassed.

“Can’t you take off the ‘vice’?”

Adam Sullivan shook his head solemnly. “If you put up a thousand strings of cash, we can switch positions.”

Henry Clark clicked his tongue. “I’d better stay behind the scenes.”

After the two discussed for a while, Ethan arrived. Adam Sullivan perked up and said, “Now that Ethan is here, my inspiration as a humble page has returned. Bring me brush and ink, I’ll paint for the princess first.”

Ethan covered her mouth and giggled, then went to fetch the brush and ink. Fortunately, this time they didn’t have to use Shu paper, so there was no need to spend extra. Adam Sullivan held his breath, seeming like a different person—just moments ago he was all jokes and grins, but now he was unspeakably solemn.

“Young master, you go out.” Adam Sullivan repeated his old trick.

Henry Clark was stunned. “Go out? Why? I wanted to see how you paint.”

Adam Sullivan said, “I need to get into Dong Yuan’s mindset now. Dong Yuan… didn’t really like smelly men.”

Ethan blushed instantly. “Last time Sun Wei didn’t like men, and now Dong Yuan doesn’t like men either?”

Adam Sullivan realized he’d slipped up—one excuse can’t be used twice in front of people. But he was thick-skinned and said righteously, “All painters are like this. It’s only natural to be a bit eccentric.”

Henry Clark protested, “I’m not leaving. Paint now.”

Adam Sullivan had almost been exposed by Ethan just now, so he felt a bit lacking in confidence and could only say, “Fine, but not again.” With that, he flicked his wrist and began applying ink to the pristine white paper. At this moment, he appeared extremely focused.

Adam Sullivan’s greatest skill was in copying paintings. The key to copying lies in delicacy, requiring a keen eye for detail and the ability to immerse oneself in the work. Even the slightest mistake would reveal the forgery.

In “Xiaoxiang Landscape,” the scene is rendered with ink and light colors, the mountains mostly using the dotting technique, with almost no lines. Dots of ink depict the vegetation on distant mountains, creating hazy yet textured mountain contours. The density and shade of the ink dots show the undulating surfaces of the rocks.

In addition, Dong Yuan would leave some blank spaces when applying ink washes, creating a sense of mist and clouds, with deep forests and faint waters. Within the landscape, there are also figures and fishing boats, vividly colored and finely detailed, adding endless vitality to the tranquil, deep woods.

Forging such a painting is the hardest of all, so Adam Sullivan didn’t dare let his mind wander for even a moment.

As he kept applying ink and dotting, Adam Sullivan was completely absorbed, while Henry Clark on the side lost interest, impatiently pulling out his paper fan and fanning himself, looking bored.

Adam Sullivan stared intently at the unfinished scroll and said, “Fan me.”

“Wow, this guy really thinks he’s the boss now.” Henry Clark was disgruntled, but he was also curious about how this guy could be so focused on painting yet still sense what was happening around him. He thought, “Does he have an extra eye on the back of his head? How can he tell I’m fanning myself beside him without even looking up?”

In fact, as an art thief, it was necessary to sometimes act like a cat burglar, so being alert to everything around was a must. Adam Sullivan had plenty of skills.

Grumbling or not, Henry Clark still obediently fanned him.

After a full half hour, Henry Clark’s hand was numb before Adam Sullivan suddenly straightened up and tossed the brush to the ground. “Done.”

This time, Henry Clark had confidence in Adam Sullivan. He didn’t even look at the painting, immediately rolled it up, and said, “I’ll go see the princess. We’ll talk business later.” With that, he tucked the fan into his belt and hurried off.

Adam Sullivan and Ethan, feeling bored, went to the lotus pond on the east side, where the pavilion was. Spring was in full bloom, lotus leaves floated on the lake, the flowers not yet open, only snow-white buds poking out. Adam Sullivan saw fish in the lake breaking the surface, sending ripples everywhere.

“There are fish,” Adam Sullivan’s eyes lit up.

Ethan said, “These are bian fish the lord brought back from Hanyang. He only brought three at first, but after putting them in the lake, they multiplied so much.”

“So they’re Wuchang fish.” Adam Sullivan was even happier. Wuchang fish, also called tuantou fang, have tender meat and delicious flavor—truly a delicacy.

He rolled up his sleeves. “Keep watch for me here. I’ll catch a few.”

Ethan tried to stop him. “Madam really likes these fish. If she finds out, she’ll be upset.”

With delicious food in front of him, Adam Sullivan couldn’t care less. Adam Sullivan was from Sichuan, and Sichuan people love fried and spicy food. After coming here, he discovered that the grand Song Dynasty didn’t even have chili peppers. Plus, he used to be a menial worker and mostly ate vegetarian food—in modern terms, his mouth was so bland he couldn’t stand it anymore.

He rolled up his pants. “That’s why I want you to keep watch. If anyone comes, warn me. I’ll just catch a few and leave.”