Molina did not come in with him. Instead, she stood at the door.
The grandfather and granddaughter seemed to have had a serious falling-out. As he entered the house, Lu Zhou could clearly sense that the old man felt a little ashamed to face her.
Not knowing much about their disagreement, and with little desire to get involved in someone else's family affairs, Lu Zhou explained why he had come, then quietly followed the old man to the oil painting hanging beside the stairs.
The man in the painting had dark golden curls and curtain bangs that would still have been fashionable today. His youthful features held a peace and serenity beyond his years... along with a touch of handsomeness.
He still fell a little short of Lu Zhou himself, but he was already quite good-looking.
Apart from that, however, the painting seemed to contain none of the clues Lu Zhou had hoped for. It was merely a portrait.
"This painting was done in 1835... supposedly by a moderately well-known painter in Norway at the time, based on a relative's verbal description of him," the old man said, standing behind Lu Zhou.
In fact, that relative had been Professor Abel's fiancée, but after a moment's hesitation, he chose to leave that detail out.
Looking away from the oil painting, Lu Zhou turned to the old man and asked curiously.
"So this painting is nearly two hundred years old?"
"More or less. It's probably the most valuable thing in this house... though it's not actually worth that much."
The old man could no longer remember how much he had paid for it. Still, since even his salary had been enough to afford it, it probably had not been particularly expensive.
After all, not everyone was interested in portraits of mathematicians, especially