Chapter 117
I don't think Sarah was speaking up for me.
She was just skillfully playing the role of an understanding woman in front of George, using it to highlight my pettiness.
I'd seen through these tactics long ago and found them utterly tiresome.
After entering through ticket check, Milly and I found our seats in the third row—the view was excellent.
Shortly after we sat down, George's group came in too. Their seats were indeed in the best location, the first row.
As they passed by our seats, Jack turned his head again and made faces at Milly. When his eyes met my icy gaze, he flinched and quickly grabbed Sarah's hand, averting his eyes.
I withdrew my gaze, no longer acknowledging these unpleasant interruptions.
Today I'd brought Milly here to enjoy herself. I didn't want these irrelevant people ruining that.
The musical was spectacular.
The stage design was stunning, the actors' performances genuine and moving, completely captivating both children and adults alike.
Milly was completely immersed in the fantastical story, sometimes gripping my hand nervously, sometimes giggling with delight.
Seeing her happiness made everything worthwhile.
After the show ended, following the arrangement Gemma's assistant had made earlier, I took Milly backstage to take photos with Gemma.
Backstage was somewhat busy, but when Gemma saw us, she immediately broke into a warm, kind smile.
She'd already changed out of her elaborate costume and wore a casual dress, her demeanor gentle and refined.
The gorgeous costume she'd worn on stage—embroidered with exquisite patterns—hung carefully on a nearby rack.
My gaze was involuntarily drawn to that costume.
Moving closer to examine it, I studied the unique stitching technique, the delicate color coordination, and the rhythm and grandeur contained in the pattern layout. The more I looked, the more certain I became.
Unable to contain my excitement, I said to Gemma, "Ms. Garcia, may I ask—was the embroidery on the costume you wore on stage done by Mr. Cody Murphy?"
At my words, Gemma's face showed clear surprise and delight. She looked me up and down. "Are you Mr. Murphy's granddaughter? I thought you looked somewhat familiar. You have his same refined spirit in your features."
"That's right. The core pattern on this costume was something I specially commissioned from Mr. Murphy after visiting him years ago. His craftsmanship and artistry are truly one of a kind. All these years later, every time I wear this for a performance, I feel especially confident."
So it really was Grandfather's work.
And Gemma actually remembered him, her tone full of respect and fond remembrance.
An indescribable warmth welled up in my heart. "Yes, Ms. Garcia. I'm his granddaughter, Grace Brown. This is my daughter, Milly."
Meeting her idol, Milly's cheeks flushed pink as she said politely, "Hello, Ms. Garcia. You performed so well, and your dress is absolutely beautiful."
Gemma laughed at Milly's sweetness, bending down to say gently, "What a good girl Milly is. Thank you for the compliment. Do you like this dress?"
Milly nodded vigorously, her big eyes full of longing, but she asked politely, "Ms. Garcia, may I touch it gently? Just once?"
"Of course you may." Gemma agreed graciously.
Only then did Milly extend her small hand, gently touching the costume's smooth satin and the delicate raised embroidery. Her little face instantly bloomed with the most satisfied smile.
Watching Milly's pure joy, my heart melted completely.
Gemma straightened up and said to me, "Ms. Brown, what a coincidence—tomorrow at the City Cultural Arts Center, there's a traditional costume art exhibition featuring works and heirlooms from many masters across the country. I've been invited to participate and will be exhibiting a few pieces from my collection."
"If you're interested in traditional craftsmanship, you could bring Milly to see it. You might find even more surprises."
The chance to see more of Grandfather's work—this was an unexpected gift.
I quickly expressed my thanks. "That's wonderful. We'll definitely come."
Gemma had her assistant bring two beautifully designed paper invitations and handed them to me. "These are invitations for you both. Tomorrow you can enter directly with these. I hope you'll enjoy it."
"Thank you so much, Ms. Garcia." I accepted the invitations solemnly, deeply grateful.
That night, both Milly and I were too excited to sleep.
Milly because she'd met her idol, touched the beautiful dress, and received invitations.
I because I'd soon have the chance to see more of Grandfather's legacy works. That feeling of reuniting with family across time and space made my heart surge.
Early the next morning, Milly and I dressed carefully.
I put Milly in more formal clothes and chose something appropriate for myself. Hand in hand, we headed to the City Cultural Arts Center.
The art exhibition was even larger in scale than I'd imagined.
The exhibition hall was arranged with soft lighting. Each exquisite dress was displayed in custom glass cases or on mannequins, their silk radiating a characteristic warm luster and the embroidery's brilliant glory under the lights.
From traditional classic styles to bold modern innovations, each piece was a work of art, attracting many traditional art enthusiasts and industry professionals to stop and admire them.
Milly and I looked carefully. Though young, Milly knew how to appreciate beauty, pointing out patterns she found especially pretty for me to see.
As we wandered among the magnificent garments, my attention was suddenly seized by a dress in an independent display case in the center of the hall.
It was a sapphire blue silk brocade gown in a classic style.
Most breathtaking were the magnificent patterns embroidered throughout with gold, silver, and colored silk threads—complex yet orderly, the colors dazzling yet harmoniously unified. The stitches were so fine they were nearly invisible. The entire piece exuded grandeur and exquisite beauty, radiating a quiet yet powerful magnificence.
This was Grandfather's work from his peak period.
Moreover, it was one of his rarely produced masterpieces, prepared for an international exhibition level.
My heart raced. Through the glass, I gazed greedily and excitedly at that dress, my fingertips trembling slightly with excitement.
Gemma was nearby, accompanying several distinguished-looking visitors in their tour.
Seeing me approach, she smiled and nodded.
I waited until Gemma had a free moment before walking over. Pointing at the sapphire blue dress, my voice tight with emotion, I asked, "Ms. Garcia, that piece is also my grandfather's work, isn't it?"
Gemma's eyes flashed with approval. "Ms. Brown has a good eye. That's correct—it's one of Mr. Murphy's representative works from his early years. It represented our country at an international cultural exchange exhibition and was later acquired by a private collector. I went to great lengths to borrow it for this exhibition."
Just as I thought.
My heart beat even faster.
If I could acquire such a piece carrying Grandfather's life's work and having such special significance...
Gathering my courage, I asked with sincere hope, "Ms. Garcia, may I ask—does this dress have an owner who wears it? Or is it purely a collection piece for exhibition? If possible, I would like to purchase it."
"I know this may be presumptuous, but for my family and me, it holds extraordinary meaning. We can negotiate the price."
Gemma's face showed difficulty. "Ms. Brown, I understand your feelings, but in principle, today's exhibits are all not for sale. They're on loan from various collectors for exhibition."
"This dress especially so. Its collector treasures it dearly. To be honest, I'd love to own it myself, but I can only dream."
Seeing my disappointed expression, she consoled me, "How about this—I'll ask the exhibition organizers for you, see if they can contact the collector and relay your wishes. But you should prepare yourself—the chances may not be good."
"Alright, thank you, Ms. Garcia. Please ask for me regardless. I'm very grateful." I thanked her repeatedly, a thread of hope rekindling in my heart.
Even if there was only a one in ten thousand chance, I had to try.
If Mom could see—or even wear—this masterpiece of Grandfather's, she would surely weep with emotion.
This wasn't just a dress. It was a testament to Grandfather's talent, an emotional bond connecting three generations of our family.
I returned to stand before that display case, taking out my phone to carefully photograph the dress's details from every angle, wanting to preserve its beauty permanently.
Just as I was concentrating on taking photos, an affected, saccharine voice came from behind me. "George, look at that sapphire blue dress. The embroidered patterns are so vivid. Do you think I'd look good in it?"
It was Sarah.
Immediately after, George's voice reached my ears clearly. "With your figure, you'd look good in anything. You want it?"
My photographing fingers froze abruptly, the blood in my entire body seeming to congeal in that instant.
I slowly turned around.
Just a few steps away, George and Sarah stood side by side before another display case.
George tilted his head slightly to look at Sarah, his face absent of the coldness and distance he usually showed me. Between his brows and eyes was even a trace of a light smile.
That was an expression with warmth that I'd never received in six years of marriage.
Sarah was clearly satisfied with his answer, a sweet smile blooming on her face.
Then her gaze seemed to casually sweep the surroundings before finally landing on me.
Then, holding George's arm, she slowly walked toward me.