Storm of Gods

Chapter 172 Performing Arts, Not Selling Oneself

Upon learning that she was the eldest daughter of the George family, everyone became well-behaved. Many people stood up and bowed to express their gratitude to Earl George. Under Earl George's management for so many years, life in the immigrant district was very good. There had been no tax increase for six or seven years. Although there were some minor troubles, they did not outweigh the advantages. Only the George district in the entire Heldan could provide immigrants with such conditions. Basically, anyone with hands and feet could find a job and would not starve to death or be sold into slavery.

Upon hearing these compliments, Celia rose to return the greeting, earning her a round of applause.

Estella simply smiled, not ruling out the possibility of a scheme. Her friend was no simple person either, but Estella could tell whether these people were sincere or not. Moreover, the George District had indeed improved a lot over the years. Back then, it was the most chaotic and worst place in Heldan, but now it had been greatly improved.

Estella looked around at the people, wondering if Mr. Gemini was among them. The phrase "a hidden master in plain sight" seemed to fit the image of such an extraordinary person as Mr. Gemini, but unfortunately, she didn't know. She only knew that Chris had said he was "ordinary."

The surroundings were mostly unremarkable, and Estella didn't make a special effort to look for it. "Do you know that chef?"

"Yes, Simmons went to great lengths to recruit top talents for this Glory Battle. We should meet them this afternoon. They're going to the Sacred Land. Are you interested? If not, we can find someone else."

“I’m very interested in clandestine powers,” Estella said.

“Hehe, I guess you’ll like it,” Celia said. Not long after, a panting Dalvik came running back, his forehead covered in sweat.

“Miss George, here is the bird newspaper you requested. I’m not sure if this is what you wanted. I also bought the Herdan Daily,” Daliwen said.

“Thank you, Mr. Dalvin. How much?” Celia asked.

“It is my honor to serve you. I wonder if I would be so kind as to paint your portrait?” Dali said.

Celia glanced at Estella. "Is that so? How about we each have one painted?"

“I’m happy to help!” Daliwen bowed, then wiped his sweat and picked up his easel and stool from the side.

The main person in charge of the Lilong Hotel is a multi-talented, part-time expert.

Li Xin wasn't at the hotel. He got up in the early hours of the morning and typed some articles. After all, it was going to be published today, and he was quite excited. Although he wasn't as awesome as Luther, he was starting to get published, which was a good start. He didn't expect to become a big star, just enough to make a living.

After knocking for several hours, he was hungry and didn't want to eat anything at the hotel. He wandered around and went to Old Morton's place. Old Morton set up his stall at five in the morning. Many people had to go to work early in the morning, and his stall was also there early.

In the morning, only old Morton was there; young Morton was still asleep. After all, children are growing, and old Morton usually wouldn't wake him up until after seven o'clock.

"Old Morton, when are you going to send him to the Grace Class? It'll be better if he gets a solid foundation early," Li Xin asked while eating.

“We didn’t get a spot last year, let’s try again this year. As long as there’s an opening, we’ll send him in immediately,” old Morton said, looking back at little Morton who was still fast asleep in the tent. His heart warmed, and he felt that all the hard work was worth it.

Li Xin scooped up the bowl, damn it, it was empty again. "Did your hand shake again? It's gone after just a few scoops?"

"You brat, do you know how expensive beef is? Do you want to eat your fill or bankrupt me? Here's a naan for you to tide you over." Old Morton placed a freshly baked, fragrant naan in front of him. "It'll be absolutely delicious with soup."

Li Xin didn't stand on ceremony and started eating. He was thinking about discussing with Simmons about getting a spot for Little Morton, but he decided to get things sorted out first. It would be the worst thing to be stuck in the middle if things didn't work out.

After eating and drinking his fill, Li Xin didn't really want to go back to the inn. He had arranged to meet Simmons in the afternoon. After using the dice a few times, the overall color had dropped significantly. Simmons' Sacred Land technique was very effective, and he planned to help Simmons practice in the afternoon.

I strolled to the pier, found a quiet spot to lie down, listened to the sound of the waves, felt the sea breeze, and basked in the sun. Every now and then, a few seagulls circled overhead. *Pia!*
Li Xin immediately thought, "Tch, trying to sneak up? No way!"

However, this place needs to be moved. These birds, which have no merit, disappeared after circling in the sky for a while.

After a good meal and a nap, what a blissful life!

Meanwhile, at the Koi Dragon Inn, Estella and Celestia's heads were stuck together, the newspaper was flipped open, and then... gone?

Why is it gone?

How could it be gone?
The story currently being serialized is roughly about Dantès, the first mate of the merchant ship Pharaoh, who is entrusted by the captain on his deathbed to deliver a letter to Napoleon, the Grand Consul. He is framed by two jealous villains and thrown into a death cell. When he is desperate and helpless in prison, the floor tiles are suddenly pried open and a thin old man who claims to be a priest emerges.

The story ends here. The two girls' sense of justice had just been stirred up, and now they really want to drag the author out and beat him up.

"Arthur, do you think this old man is a good person or a bad person?"

“Those in prison are probably the ones with problems, but Dantès was wronged, and the priest might be too. But does such a castle prison floating in the void really exist in the world?” Estella said.

Suddenly, the two looked at each other, and sure enough, there really was one.

Their interest was piqued immediately. "You know the author?"

“We’ll see each other this afternoon.” Celia was surprised that Li Xin could actually write, and it was quite interesting, even though it was short.

Even Estella suddenly felt a surge of anticipation. The story was about a protagonist who was wrongly accused and imprisoned in a mysterious prison, yet she couldn't suppress her excitement. What kind of priest was he in that place? Just a simple priest? Napoleon, the Grand Consul—it felt like a veiled reference to Grand Consul Luther. This connection made the story even more intriguing.

The death of Grand Archon Luther was a sensational event in Daoyuan. How could Luther, who was already a demigod, suddenly die?

Daenerys patiently waited to the side. The first serving had long since gone cold. Both young ladies were engrossed in watching, believing that the young master was destined for great wealth.

After reading it, Daenerys immediately brought out a freshly cooked dish. Estella and Celestia were really hungry. Just as Estella was about to eat, Celestia smiled and said, "Let me try it first."

After eating them one by one, he tasted them and said, "They are indeed special. Arthur, you should try some too."

Estella smiled, took a small bite, and found it to be a unique flavor. It wasn't particularly delicious, but it had a lot of warmth and naturalness.

Seeing that the two young ladies were satisfied, Daenerys breathed a sigh of relief. Then she noticed Daliven looking worried and went over to him. "Is it finished yet?"

"I've finished painting one, but for some reason, I just can't seem to capture the spirit of the other one. Could it be that I drank too much yesterday?"

Daenerys glared at Daliven, "Open your eyes wide and draw! You can't even do this simple thing right? You'll be serving me tonight!"

Daliwen trembled all over. "Cough cough, I'm awake. It's okay, no problem!"

Celia and Estella finished eating quickly. They didn't eat much, but the food was certainly unique, if not amazing. Daliven also presented his paintings. Celia's painting was incredibly lifelike, especially the spirit it captured. The eyes were just like Celia's—stubborn, confident, and full of optimism. Celia liked it almost immediately. "Mr. Daliven, I love it!"

Dali bowed gracefully, saying, "It is a pleasure to present beautiful things. Thank you for your existence."

Estella also saw her own picture, but it was a profile shot. In the picture, a nun seemed to be looking at something intently, most of her face was covered by a long robe, but her graceful figure and the feeling created a strong sense of mystery. "The artistic conception is very good."

Daliwen breathed a sigh of relief. The other lady's expression was a bit stiff and lacked liveliness, so he could only use the blurring method. Anyway, he would never sell his art, not his body.

Celestia paid and tossed Daenerys a glittering gold coin, making Daenerys grin so wide her eyes almost disappeared.

Pressing the painter's head down, he made him bow to the two departing ladies. Once they were in the carriage, both of them beamed with joy. "Dragon Mother, we've struck it rich!"

"What's the point of getting rich? Working hard is the right thing to do. Diligence can make up for lack of talent."

"Yes, yes, how are we going to split it? One gold lira, I've never even touched one in my life." Daliven's eyes were practically sparkling. Even if it was split 40/60, he was already rich.

“What gold lira? This is a reward from the noble Miss George for my service. Your two lousy paintings are worth nothing. I'll give you a week's rent off,” Daenerys said. “Of course, if you get the hang of it, we can talk.”

"Mother of Dragons~~~" Daliwen cried out in despair.

"Here you go, this is a reward. Cheer up, be alert, and follow me and I'll make sure you live the high life." Daenerys shoved one into Dali's hand, then wiggled her hips and walked away, beaming with delight.

Daliven spread his hands. If it were a silver lira, that would be nice... but the feel isn't right, the pattern should be square?

A lira lay quietly in my palm, its image not of a handsome prince, but of a church.

The artist's eyes welled up with tears. Why is the world so unfair?
Suddenly someone patted him on the shoulder, and Old Fang sighed, "Don't even think about trying, just give up. Sometimes taking a step back opens up a whole new world."

"Old Fang, can you tell me when I'll become rich?" Daliwen still wanted to uphold the bottom line of an artist.

Old Fang held up two fingers.

"Two months?...Two years? Is it going to take that long?" Daliwen's disappointment was mixed with a hint of anticipation.

"Two lira." Old Fang sometimes felt that these artists had some kind of problem with their thinking.

"I have only one."

"Alright, let's start with half." Old Fang snatched it from Daliwen's hand with lightning speed, like an eighteen-year-old habitual offender.

Dali looked at Lao Fang expectantly, and Lao Fang mysteriously held up one finger.

"What do you mean?" Dali asked blankly.

Old Fang flicked his palm open, then rubbed his thumb and forefinger together...

(End of this chapter)