musicians of old

Chapter 813 "The Demon Horn" and "The Flute"

On the other side of the auction hall, backstage staff.

Nancy was sitting in front of a mirror, gazing intently at her reflection in the silver mirror.

Her outfit changed from the pure white dress she wore in the first half to another purple and red dress—it's industry practice for the chief hammer holder to change her attire once between the first and second halves of the show, and two makeup artists were making corresponding adjustments to her makeup.

"You, come with us first." Suddenly, two guards walked in and patted one of the female makeup artists on the shoulder.

"Me?" the makeup artist asked in surprise.

"It's just a talk, bring your makeup bag too." "Put everything in, hurry up."

The two guards didn't say much and quickly took the man away.

Another makeup assistant scratched her head blankly, stood up, and said to the girl in the purple dress, "Um... excuse me, Miss Nancy, I need to go next door to borrow some things from someone else. Uh, it might take a while to find something suitable."

Nancy was also confused. Her hair wasn't even tied up yet, so she could only sit in front of the mirror and continue waiting.

"Tap tap tap tap." Miss McAdam's footsteps were a little faster outside the corridor. Suddenly, she saw two guards leading a female makeup artist toward her.

The makeup artist was also carrying a large, heavy bag with several boxes haphazardly stuffed together, almost falling out of the zipper.

This person was one of her companions.

Miss McAdam pretended to be looking for someone, reached out and clenched her special press pass, which was waving a bit too large, and continued walking. She did not deliberately avoid the eyes of her companions and guards, but there was no more special contact.

"Wait a minute."

The two had already gone their separate ways, but a deep, resonant voice suddenly called out to her.

Miss McAdam stopped and turned around.

"Who are you looking for?" The head guard squinted.

“Miss Nancy.” She held up her press pass.

This was a perfect excuse to contact Nancy, and even unannounced intrusion would be a common occurrence for a dedicated journalist.

"Interview?"

"There are interviews, and there are also personal matters."

However, Miss McAdam seemed to be rekindling the emotions she had previously displayed when she "slapped someone," and a hint of annoyance appeared on her face.

The head guard gave her a deep look, then didn't press further. He stepped forward, pointed to their bags, then to the ground, and gave orders to the makeup artist—

"You, clear out some of the necessary supplies and have this reporter help carry them back to the dressing room."

"Here?" the female makeup artist asked instinctively.

“Right here, we can’t delay Miss Nancy’s makeup too much.” The head guard narrowed his eyes.

Ruoyi's small handbag and the female makeup artist's large tote bag were both placed on the ground.

The female makeup artist squatted down in front of them and began sorting through the items.

During this time, the head guard slowly paced around twice and also got a clear look at the contents of Miss McAdam's small handbag.

They were all small items with very low space utilization: perfume bottle, lipstick, hairband, folding fan, smelling salts, small mirror, chocolate bar, and a few gold and silver coins.

"Alright, no need to clean anymore." "Take the rest yourself."

The makeup artist had just slipped two items into Miss McAdam's handbag when the guards stopped her and led her away down the corridor.

Disturbed by this interlude, Miss McAdam dared not waste any more time.
"You're Nancy, right? I have something to tell you." She walked quickly to the door of the room she was going to visit and spoke loudly.

“I am, but may I ask you…” Nancy, standing in front of the mirror, paused for a moment upon hearing the voice, looking at the equally young and beautiful girl's figure at the doorway.

Nancy, who subconsciously stood up, felt very strange. Looking at the badge hanging on the other person's chest, it seemed that he was a reporter who was about to conduct an interview, but she didn't know why the other person's tone sounded so impolite, as if she had offended him.

The sound drew the attention of several staff members in the next room.

"Tell me, what's going on between you and Fanning?!" Miss McAdam asked as she walked in.

"Huh!?" Nancy thought she'd misheard. Fanning? The colleague who'd played with the kids with her during the day and talked about his personal experiences?

My first impression of each other was good, but it was just a casual chat. Why is there a female reporter in front of me now, acting like she's about to interrogate me?!

Miss McAdam strode up to Nancy, but lowered her voice and changed the subject, revealing her true purpose:
"I'm sorry, no offense intended. It was just an act forced upon you by the circumstances. Were you working here because you were being held hostage?"

“You? Me.” Nancy’s eyes widened.

“We’ve been investigating Leridge for years, and now it’s time for a showdown!” With the room temporarily empty, Miss McAdam spoke rapidly and bluntly, “One of the related cases is the Esterházy family’s bankruptcy case from years ago. Time is of the essence, and I’d like to ask, are you currently under some kind of control?”

Nancy looked shocked and suspicious, but her fists clenched unconsciously, as if she wanted to ask something, yet hesitated about something.

“This isn’t the place to talk.” Miss McAdam glanced at the doorway again, her tone growing more urgent. “If so, and if you trust me, please come with me to the outdoor café, but we’ll need to put on a show.”

Nancy's eyes flickered with struggle, and finally she gritted her teeth and said, "Fine, let's go."

Miss McAdam stepped out of the room without looking back, and Nancy immediately followed.

"Miss Nancy? You..." The makeup assistant, who had rushed back breathlessly, almost bumped into her.

"I've had some bad news, I'm not in the mood for makeup right now!" Nancy said, then followed the female reporter with a blank expression.

The two girls walked towards the open-air cafe on the north side, attracting the attention of the guests.

five minutes later.

"Calm down, I'm telling you, both of you, calm down."

"Let me explain first."

Fan Ning spoke helplessly, glancing at the curious onlookers who kept popping up in front of the sliding glass door, and got up to pull down the curtain that came with the parasol.

The onlookers couldn't hear the content of the three's conversation very clearly; they could only see a few shadows.

Anyway, the atmosphere was sometimes dull, and sometimes someone would stand up, seemingly getting agitated, but then Fanning would push them back into their seats.

"It seems the situation is true." Soon, the matter was verified to be mostly confirmed, and Fan Ning, who had been listening to the conversation between the two, spoke up.

Five years ago, the entire process of the Van der Schaaf Collection's ownership transfer was fraught with irregularities. From the Esterházy family's bankruptcy liquidation to the church's notarization, and then to the evidence collection and determination of Nancy's guardianship, this was even more shocking than the scandals surrounding a few specific items in the collection!

At the time, Nancy was the family's only minor heir, but the curator of the collection became Larry, and Nancy was hired as the so-called "chief hammer bearer." The motive behind this is clear: to seize control!
Her emotions went through a dramatic ups and downs, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the edge of the table: "Thank you. So much time has passed, those people know everything—laws, regulations, accounting. They handled things so 'legally,' cleaning up all the mess, and you even managed to find some evidence. I really don't know how to express my gratitude. Actually, even if there's no real chance of overturning the case, and the Van der Schaaf Collection ends up in my name, I still can't keep it."

"Can't be saved?" Fan Ning frowned as she looked at her.

"Yes, there are too many interests involved here. Even without Lelic, there might be another Nikolayevich or something. The family is already defunct in name only. I can't fight them alone."

Nancy's tone still hadn't completely calmed down. Her eyes lowered first, then she tilted her head back: "But, ultimately, we must let the true philanthropists see their ugly faces! If successful, I will donate the entire Van der Schaaf Collection in the next moment! This is a huge sum of money. If I don't trust Vienna, I'll donate it to the Empire. Although there may still be some shady dealings, it will still genuinely help some children. Tell me what I need to do!"

“Just cooperate with our testimony,” Miss McAdam said. “Our evidence is already quite clear, but if we can connect the dots, the facts will be even more credible. I need to double-check some details with you.”

"Did your parents give you any instructions?" Fanning thought for a moment and then added, "Especially during the final period, such as the time before Mr. Esterházy went to prison."

Nancy recalled for a moment, then shook her head: "I was only fourteen then, I couldn't understand the shady dealings of those power struggles. Besides, during that final period, they were being investigated and questioned every day, I rarely had a chance to talk to my dad. He just told me not to act impulsively, and that keeping me 'under control' was a safer option for those people. Hmm, there was something else..."

Nancy continued to ponder: "My father left me a small book before he went to prison. It was probably a keepsake from before he went to jail. I've kept it with me ever since, but it only contains poems and nothing substantial."

“The Devil’s Call of the Young Man?” McAdam took it.

The cover of the yellowed book features a picture of several angels playing various musical instruments, which at first glance has the texture of a religious mural.

However, the color fading and damage were too severe; for example, the violin bow in the hand of the angel on the edge was no longer visible.

The reporter flipped through it herself a few times before handing it to Fan Ning to look through.

"Saint John of Poroise Preaching to the Fish", "The Original Light", "Three Angels Singing a Sweet Song", "In Praise of Sublime Reason", "The Nightingale and the Cuckoo".
Fan Ning slowed down his reading pace. Some of the poems seemed strangely familiar to him, which was a peculiar feeling, but in fact, there was nothing strange about them; they were all just folk poems.

"Um?."

But Fan Ning gradually felt his right chest getting hotter and hotter, so he took out a glittering miniature flute from inside his lapel.

He had completely forgotten that the brother and sister, Lianka and Polez, had given him this little trinket before they parted ways at the workhouse during the day!

"Wait a minute, I don't know why this thing suddenly—" Before Fan Ning could finish speaking, the miniature flute in his hand suddenly exploded into a ball of light!