Charles Zarate was furious, the aura on him immediately dissipated. He then looked at Harvey York, disdained.

“Young man, what are you saying? Master Naiswell had already concluded that the painting is indeed real, but you’re still here running your mouth. You’re not actually doubting his eyesight now are you?”

Shane Naiswell was the patriarch of treasury appraisal, who would dare to question his abilities?

A lowly live-in son-in-law not willing to admit that he’s wrong even after that, he truly does not fear death.

At that moment, everyone at the fair was judging Harvey with disgust.

Shane Naiswell swung his hand side to side.

“Please, everyone. Harvey’s right. Why don’t you let me finish speaking first?”

‘Huh?’

‘Master Naiswell isn’t done talking? But he had already said that the painting is real. Is he going to take back what he said?’

‘For a live-in son-in-law?’

‘Is he really that worth it?’

Shane kept talking, “This painting is real, yes. But it is not by Jasper Higgins