Tom Fritz knew he wouldn’t get the kitten back from this guy, who was both shameless and stubborn. However, during his visit, he learned that the kitten had been given to Spencer’s sister-in-law, who affectionately called him “brother-in-law.”
“If this kitten is so important to you, why did you leave it at the lifestyle center?” Spencer asked casually, sensing an exaggeration in Tom’s attachment to the kitten. With his hands in his pockets and a slight furrow in his brow, Tom replied anxiously, “The kitten was sick recently, and I’ve been busy with work and transitioning responsibilities to my father, so I left it at the lifestyle center for a while. Plus, I will be going abroad soon.”
“Transitioning? Going abroad?” Spencer picked up on the key points.
“Changing jobs,” Tom explained. “The company will continue under my father’s management; he’s still young. As for me, I’m returning to my lab. My mentor has called me several times, insisting on hiring me as a professor in the Chemistry Department at Stanford University for an important research project he wants me involved in.”
“Professor Fritz,” Spencer gave him a thumbs up, digesting what he had just heard. “A prodigy about to be locked away in a lab devoted to research certainly doesn’t have time for a cat. So maybe let go of getting the kitten back.”
Spencer continued, “Are you sure it’s safe to leave it at the lifestyle center? It could get lost any minute. In my opinion, it’s better off with my sister-in-law; she’s very caring and patient. Most importantly, she has a special bond with your kitten; they get along very well.”
Somehow, after several setbacks, Tom Fritz seemed somewhat resigned and shaken about getting the kitten back.
He took a deep breath and sighed heavily.
Since Tom was on a film set, he said goodbye to Spencer as he began shooting a new scene and then turned to leave.
Tom missed the kitten deeply; having raised it himself, he had grown quite attached.
He also knew he couldn’t take it to the lab.
…
After finding Andrew’s Ansel and returning to his father’s studio, his mood wasn’t great due to romantic troubles.
That day, his father came back.
Mr. Johnsons was in his fifties, tall and leggy with a bronze face and deep eyes that seemed to see through everything.
The Johnsons family had a long history in art; their ancestors were famous artists.
In his youth, Mr. Johnsons had traveled to over eighty countries, painting landscapes far and wide-a sentimental painter who had won many awards both domestically and internationally.
After marrying and having children, he gradually settled down from his travels and took up teaching art at a university where his students excelled one after another.
Mr. Johnsons hadn’t called Ansel before coming; he saw his son’s troubled state through surveillance and decided to come teach him a lesson.
Thus when Ansel saw his father, he was completely unprepared.
Father and son sat in wicker chairs by the lake with a pot of steaming tea quietly sitting on the table amidst the serene sounds of birds chirping.
His father poured two cups of tea and handed one to his son before leaning back in his chair and fixing his gaze on Ansel’s dejected appearance before asking directly, “What’s wrong?”
Knowing there were cameras around, Ansel looked towards the lake without answering.
His father seemed to know but asked anyway.
“The big competition is coming up; this isn’t how an adult behaves,” Mr. Johnsons calmly started as he lifted his teacup. “If I were Agnes, I wouldn’t fancy you either.”
At these words, as if stung by them, Ansel suddenly looked at his father with frustration building in his chest but found no reason to argue back.