Chapter 1898

The priest was led out of Isabelle's bedroom. He made a sign of the cross on his chest and said to Hancock, who was waiting at the door: "Alright, sir, I have checked, there is no residue of holy water power for the time being, but if you find any abnormalities later, please be sure to contact me immediately."

Hancock nodded at him. Although he was a bit surprised that the priest suddenly said he wanted to check for the residue of holy water power in the evening, he thought this was just a means for the priest to ask for benefits.

Mr. Nihilite wrote a donation check for the church the priest belonged to. After handing it to the priest, the priest didn't decline. He just made a sign of the cross on his chest again and said: "I will pray for the young lady of your house, and for you all. God bless you."

The priest carrying the box walked slowly out of the Nihilite family manor. He stood in front of the black-gray manor gate, looked back at the manor's architecture, turned around, pushed the door, and left.

Amidst the swaying gray tree shadows on the skyline and the blowing cold wind, accompanied by the heavy bell of the Nihilite family, the car disappeared at the end of the twilight road.

And a little girl with a pale face on the window watched his figure. The note she clutched in her hand had a line written in flowery English: "Wait for me at the old place—Doctor."

Before the evening banquet began, Shiler came to the Nihilite family's garden. It was also desolate here, with dark brown branches, dark green cold forest leaves, and soil so dark it was almost black. Shiler lowered his head and walked through the ghost-claw-style willow branches, and saw Isabelle on the swing in front.

Isabelle was still staring at Shiler with that straight gaze, but Shiler didn't care at all. He sat on another swing next to her and swayed gently.

Just as he turned to look at Isabelle, Isabelle shook her head at him, then turned her head back, her gaze looking toward a direction in the garden.

That was the porch of the building opposite. A small black shadow flashed by. Shiler recognized that it was the little boy Henry who had been frightened by Isabelle before, now hiding behind a large flower pot, peeking while thinking he was hidden.

Shiler bent down and picked up a branch from the ground, playing with it as if he were bored, asking Isabelle some everyday questions. Isabelle lowered her head and was silent, not saying a word, while the little boy Henry kept watching here.

Shiler used his fingers to peel off the skin of the dry branch and changed the subject as if unintentionally: "Can you draw, Isabelle?"

Isabelle shook her head and still didn't speak.

"I think you have a pair of hands quite suitable for drawing." Shiler looked at Isabelle and said: "Perhaps you should try drawing. You only need a piece of white paper and a pencil, and you can get a beautiful pencil sketch."

Shiler gestured with his palm and the half-peeled dry branch in his hand. He said: "Look, this is called 'side stroke', usually used to lay out large areas of gray tones. This is called 'half-side stroke', which can be used for hatching or for applying tones to small areas."

"Of course there is also outlining. Do you know how to outline? Outlining requires 'upright stroke', just like this, standing the pencil up." Shiler placed one end of the branch perpendicular to his palm and said: "You have to use a little force. Of course, the most critical thing is that if you want to get sharp and clean lines, you have to sharpen the pencil a bit."

"Do you know that pencil leads also have differences in softness and hardness? Depending on the hardness of the graphite, the color concentration that can remain on the drawing paper is also different."

"Softer pencils are used to lay out the dark areas, just like this." Shiler applied it on his palm with the side-stroke technique and said: "There will be a lot of color left on the paper. This is because the structure of the soft pencil lead is loose."

"But hard pencils are used to draw the bright tones. Sharpen the pencil and hatch lightly. Only a small part of the color will remain on the paper surface because the lead is very hard."

"Of course, Isabelle, remember to try not to sharpen the pencil yourself. You can ask the butler to help you, otherwise, it won't be good if you hurt your hands."

Shiler reached out and touched Isabelle's head. Isabelle didn't dodge or resist, just sat blankly in place. She said: "You will be a good painter, I guarantee it."

Shiler threw away the branch and stood up, leaving without looking back. And Isabelle looked at the piece of dry branch he threw on the ground, and another emotion suddenly flashed in her blank eyes.

At the evening banquet, everyone gathered in the hall, chatting in twos and threes. Batman was talking to Mr. Nihilite, Natasha was actually smiling brightly at the serious and stiff Hancock, and Be-Bat was chatting with Lady Nihilite.

Sure enough, after the farce in the afternoon, they had each found a breakthrough. Shiler didn't walk over to interfere, but walked silently to the dining table and sat down in his seat in advance.

The old butler who welcomed them at the beginning walked up at this time, handed Shiler a glass of water, and said: "Was it you who suggested Miss Isabelle draw pencil sketches?"

Shiler looked at him with some confusion. The old butler hurriedly said: "She just asked me if the art studio in the manor was open. I asked her what she wanted to do, and she said a doctor suggested she draw pencil sketches to relieve her emotions."

"Oh." Shiler smiled with relief and said: "This is not any professional medical advice, it's just that I personally like painting. I saw that Miss Isabelle has a painter's hands, so I chatted with her simply. I didn't expect her to be really interested."

Shiler sighed lightly and said: "I have seen many people who can find peace on the road of pursuing art. I am not sure if this is effective for the young master and young lady of your house, but it's good to kill some time."

The butler also sighed and said: "To tell you the truth, we have tried almost every method to make Miss Isabelle quiet, but it is quite difficult."

"My nephew is on duty in the garden. He is terrified every day, afraid that Miss Isabelle will hurt others, and also afraid that she will hurt herself. Maybe, as you said, shifting her attention will be better."

Shiler smiled at him, picked up the water glass and took a sip. Then he noticed a small figure standing on the side of the dining room entrance. The boy named Henry was eavesdropping again.

The other party's concealment technique was quite clever for a seven or eight-year-old boy, and not easy for an adult to discover, but compared to Batman, it was a world of difference.

There was no angle from which Shiler's sitting position could see him, but unfortunately, the glass was reflective, and the dining room didn't have the lights on. In the dim light, the surface of the glass product could clearly reflect the figure. The moment the old butler put down the glass, Shiler discovered Henry's figure.

"Henry, Henry!" a female voice called. Shiler recognized that it was Lady Nihilite's voice, so he stood up, nodded to the butler, and walked toward Lady Nihilite.

"Oh, Dr. Shiler, did Henry disturb you? I told him not to always stand at the door. Come here, Henry, don't be so impolite, come and greet this Mr. Wayne and Dr. Shiler."

Shiler saw Henry curl his lips with obvious disdain. These small expressions he thought were hidden, in Shiler's view, were almost writing his inner emotions on his face.

This boy looked very contemptuous of his mother, so he deliberately stood in place for a few seconds before walking over as if he had just heard. Sure enough, Lady Nihilite looked a bit embarrassed.

Shiler gently squatted down, faced Henry, touched his head, and patted his shoulder, saying: "Hello, Young Master Henry."

Then he asked some everyday questions like how old he was this year and what grade he was in. Shiler stood up, looked at Lady Nihilite again, and continued to chat with her.

His peripheral vision saw a trace of unbelievable anger on Henry's face. He hugged his arms with an imperceptible movement, then looked down at his own hands.

He seemed to want to find an opportunity to interrupt, but Shiler and Be-Bat's topics were continuous, and he couldn't find an opportunity to speak at all. Until the evening banquet ended, Henry kept staring at Shiler.

After eating, Shiler went for a walk in the garden. In fact, he saw a small figure in a room pull the curtains and turn to go out the moment he entered the garden, but he pretended not to see it and even came to the swing area, as if looking for Isabelle's figure.

But Isabelle didn't come today. After Shiler stood for a while, he walked back, but suddenly a small figure rushed out at the corner, bumping Shiler until he staggered.

The boy was knocked to the ground. Shiler immediately went over to help him up, then looked at the things scattered on the ground.

It was a sketchpad with drawing paper, two pencils, and an eraser.

Shiler's gaze immediately fell on the drawing on the sketchpad. He walked over, bent down, picked up the sketchpad, pencils, and eraser, and looked intently at the drawing on the paper.

It was a drawing of the Nihilite Manor's bell tower. A crow landed on the eaves of the bell tower, and the hands of the bell tower's clock happened to point at the crow at the same time, and the crow was also looking back at the hands.

This was a quite clever diagonal echoing composition, making it easy for people to associate it with the crow landing on the bell tower in the dim twilight to groom its feathers, feeling curious about the hands pointing at it, and then taking a glance back. It had a kind of Gothic black humor.

"Did you draw this?" Shiler put down the sketchbook and looked at Henry. Henry nodded.

Shiler looked at the two pencils in his hand again. One pencil lead was thicker, which was a soft pencil, and one lead was thinner, which was a hard pencil.

But unfortunately, this drawing was drawn with charcoal.

Because the crow's feathers were very black, the traces of smeared charcoal powder were clearly visible. That was a drawing trace completely different from ordinary pencils, so it was very easy to identify that this was a charcoal drawing, not a pencil drawing. The gap between the two was actually very large.

Even if this were a pencil drawing, it would at least require more than ten pencils from soft to hard to shape it to this extent, and even the eraser would need a soft eraser for light rubbing and heavy tones, a hard eraser for erasing bright areas, and a pointed eraser sharpened for drawing highlights. It was not something that a piece of eraser that looked like what a child used for homework could handle.

The most important evidence was that charcoal drawings require a lot of fixative spray, and one could tell when the fixative was sprayed from the state of the paper surface. This drawing was probably finished two years ago.

Shiler squatted down, returned the sketchpad to Henry, and said: "It's not good to claim other people's work, sir. It's not very likely that you drew this. If you want to move this painting elsewhere, be a little careful, don't get it dirty, and cherish other people's artistic creation."

Henry stared at Shiler with that angry, unbelievable expression again. The childish innocence on his face almost completely faded, leaving only hatred and indifference.

The next morning, Shiler found the crow bell tower painting that had been stepped on several times, thrown into the water, and crumpled into a ball in a corner of the garden bushes, which was not surprising.

What a natural bad seed, Shiler thought, fortunately, I am too.