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75: Drystan Meyer had indeed been a prick

Lin FenXiang looked at his feet, sadness, pain and guilt swirling within his chest.

“I don't know how or why it happened. It just did.“ He added. “I feel horrible though.“

Father William nodded, then looked at him with a slightly curious look in his eyes. “May I ask why?“

Lin FenXiang rested his fingers on his temple, staving off an impending headache as he formulated an answer.

“I was careless. Vexed, if I may, and thoroughly shaken by the sight of my ruined painting in front of me. So, like an utter genius,” he said sarcastically. “I did something very wise. I lashed out on the nearest and the only person available at that time. Someone who was completely faultless in the entire ordeal.“ The painter grimaced, thinking back to his outburst. “I behaved like an arsehole to him.“

Father William nodded slowly, hands folded in front of himself, he walked up to Lin FenXiang and consoled the man.