Marrying the Paralyzed Young Master

Chapter 65: The Prince of Day and Night

David Yon glanced at the butler with an unhappy look and sat back down on the sofa. A message was sent to his cell phone, making his mood even worse.

David Yon raised his hand, covered his eyes, and also blocked his vague expression.

Their father was a playboy, and his mother did not lose to him either. After realizing that it was impossible for her to take her husband's heart, she takes the money given to him and lives a carefree life abroad. Recently David Yon tried to find out about his mother, and the message mentioned that his mother had just gotten an eighteen-year-old girlfriend.

"Damn it, eighteen years? That bastard is even younger than me."

With such an old man, he was used to the chaotic life of the circle of rich people. Drunkenness, women's play, bullying, and gambling. He was used to such a muddy life.

David Yon loves racing in all kinds of dangerous places. When he raced, he had thought many times that it would be good to die like this. However, now different, right now his chest was filled with indescribable frustration and emptiness. For the first time, she felt her life was like dirt that was incompatible with the sacred Yon family residence.

He slammed the sofa cushion against the floor hard. The corner of his mouth was tightly clenched, and he was silent for a long time. A storm was brewing downstairs, but upstairs was still peaceful.

After instructing Mayuna Yon about the violin, everyone went to Dean Yon's room which was transformed like an art gallery. This personal space was very important to him. Other than himself and the servants who cleaned the place, his gallery was forbidden to be entered by anyone else.

This was the first time so many people had come to this small room. The empty space instantly became much denser. Although the gallery was also filled with Dean Yon's own work, the gallery was different from the others, Dean Yon's gallery looked clean and innocent. He placed the drawing board and painting upside down, as if he didn't want anyone to see his work.

The cool and clean way of gallery furniture fully expresses the owner's rejection of the outside world.

Soma Haruka stood at the door and looked around. He didn't take the initiative to open the drawing board to look at Dean Yon's painting. Instead, he stood in his place and said, "Dean, bring here the painting you want to show."

He was very polite and considerate. This made Dean Yon who initially felt very uncomfortable because his space had been invaded by outsiders, secretly sighing in relief in his heart. On the surface, he still looked obedient and gentle. "Okay, Sister-in-law, please wait a moment. I'll be back after deciding on one."

Dean Yon went to take a look at his finished work. After his finger landed on one of the paintings, he paused for a bit. He had a somewhat conflicted expression on his face. With his back facing the crowd, dark emotions seethed in his eyes. He hesitated to show the other side of himself.

After hesitating, he finally took out another painting hidden among the others. "What are you doing?" Sintia Wang urged impatiently. "Why does it take so long to take a painting?"

"I got it." Dean Yon curled his lips and smiled. "Thank you for waiting." Before turning around, his eyes closed for a moment.

Dean Yon handed the painting over with his hands. There was a probing look in his eyes as if he was examining the person in front of him. However, his voice was very soft. "Sister-in-law, this is my painting."

As he smiled and handed her the painting, the other side of him was visible for quite some time. He grinned and said inwardly, "You're wrong, Brother-in-law. I'm not a good boy, I'm a monster that makes my own mother hate me."

Soma Haruka did not seem to be aware of his strange behavior. His expression remained the same as he took the painting and opened it.

When Sintia Wang and Mayuna Yon saw the contents of the painting, they could not help but be surprised. Mayuna Yon even took a step back in fear. Dean Yon looked at their reactions expressionlessly, but his eyes emitted an evil and joyful light. It was as if their reaction pleased him.

However, under the plain gaze, there seemed to be an even stronger emotion covered in a layer of ice. It was as if he was suppressing the soaring sadness and hatred.

Dean Yon was no longer interested in seeing their reactions. His gaze turned to the face of his sister-in-law. Dean Yon's painting has a very thick dark style. The background color of this painting is solid black. A large black patch painted a sad atmosphere on the canvas. It was as if a dark cloud was suffocating the city.

The dark sweep outlined the distant horizon, and the color of rust that looked like dried blood depicted a deep red sunset. There was an iron cage on the empty plains, and a naked little boy with a burn scar was imprisoned inside. The boy also had a heavy iron chain around his neck, making him bow.

Blood flowed along his body and meandered on the ground as if it would dye the ground under his feet red.

The contrast of suffering between black and red was like a huge rock pressing down on one's heart, making it difficult to breathe. No wonder Sintia Wang and Mayuna Yon had such expressions when they saw this painting.

Soma Haruja's expression did not change. He looked as if he was admiring the painting of that abnormal scene. After examining it closely for a while, he said, "Not bad." There was no sign of retreat or anything strange on his face.

Hearing this, a strange light flashed in Dean Yon's eyes. There was a smile on the corner of his mouth, but there was not the slightest smile in his eyes. "Sister-in-law, don't you think that's not bad?" His voice had a strange rhythm. Like a different person.

At this moment, the prince's aura seemed to have completely faded from his body. He exuded an evil aura full of madness. Starting from his evil smile, his strange tone of voice, and the strange paintings he drew with his own hands, all of them gave people goosebumps.

The timid Mayuna Yon clenched her fists. This time, he did not retreat in fear. Instead, he quietly pulled the tip of Soma Haruka's shirt and looked at his youngest sister anxiously. Sintia Wang pursed her lips displeased. "Speak. What do you mean show us this painting?"