In Stella Lockwood's mind, Sean Quinn had always been a fearsome man. Even after her rebirth and meeting him again, she still found him intimidating, a person whose thoughts were impossible to guess.
But when he put on a mask and set up a stall on the street, it was as if she were seeing a completely different Sean Quinn.
That's right—Sean Quinn had set up a stall to sell his calligraphy and paintings.
His brush calligraphy was masterful, with strokes so energetic they seemed to dance across the page, drawing cries of admiration.
His ink wash paintings were so lifelike they were breathtaking.
In an hour and a half, he produced a total of six poems and six abstract paintings. Then it was time to sell them.
"You're going to sell your art?"
"Yeah."
"How much are you planning to sell them for?"
"Fifty yuan."
'That's a little pricey!'
