He drew to an abrupt halt before looking around, upon which he discovered that there was no one else present.

In the current state that Philadelphia was in, no one would be in the mood to visit a place like this.

He silently drew closer to the portrait before taking a close look.

In the portrait, Richardman's hands were placed on his desk, and he looked exactly the same as he did in Xu Fu's memories except he had aged significantly.

He was a very refined-looking man, wearing a pair of black-rim glasses, and his white hair was arranged into an elegant ponytail that hung down behind his head, the top of which was already bald. He was wearing an immaculate suit, and the desk in front of him was littered with books, while more books could be seen on the many bookshelves behind him.

There was nothing abnormal about this portrait, but right as he cast his gaze toward Richardman's right hand, his soul almost flew out of Edward’s body!

Beside his right hand was a wooden box, within which was a stack of notes written in dark red ink. His fingers were splayed very casually over the notes, and he would've most likely never anticipated that this portrait would be made available for public viewing someday.

As a result, he made no effort to conceal the writing on the notes, leaving some...