Cherished By Seven Sisters by Melvin Houle

Chapter 177 Emrys Is Emerentius

That was how masters came to be skilled

Emerentius had been renowned for many years, and each of his paintings was imbued with profound meaning, far beyond the imitation capabilities of an ordinary person.

People within the calligraphy and painting circles speculated that Emerentius must be an individual past his fifties, with graying hair, and someone who had experienced the highs and lows of life. Only then could he possess such a carefree and detached outlook on the world, enabling him to create artwork with such a unique ambiance.

Jacinda had also thought the same in the past.

However, when she saw the autographed art photo in her hand, she couldn’t help but reveal a shocked expression.

The photograph did not reveal Emerentius‘ face. It was merely a shot of his back. However, through that silhouette, it was evident that Emerentius was not the white–haired old man they had imagined, but rather a young man.

A very young man, in fact.

If it weren’t for the assurance given by Chandler, they would have even doubted that the young man in the photo was Emerentius at all.

addition to the guarantee from the governor, another characteristic quickly dispelled everyone’s doubts about Emerentius‘

artistic font completely consistent with the style of his works. It was

words, those ten autographed art photos could also be considered as Emerentius‘ works. The artistic calligraphy alone was worth

far and wide. Everyone in the auction house was stunned, followed by exclamations of awe, “Emerentius is

Emerentius merely as a celebrity, found themselves unexpectedly yearning to obsess over him upon catching

quarter of it visible, with sharp, distinct features. It was clear at a glance

a handsome

sense of mystery, akin to a/veiled

they could rush forward and snatch those ten artistic autographed pictures to gaze at them while huddled in their beds

that photograph, her brows furrowed in deep thought. The

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177 Emrys Is

familiar to her, especially the clothing worn by Emerentius. It was as if she had seen it

turned her head to look at

that caused Lydia’s delicate b*dy to tremble violently. It’s him! That night, when I first visited

time, showed a shocked expression because of Emrys, a young man she had assumed to be a barbarian. Her chest heaved