Steam Western Fantasy: This werewolf is ridiculously strong!

Connors sat back in his seat in embarrassment, and said with embarrassment and shame: "I just said it casually, and I didn't say that this fairy tale is not a literary art."

The old man ignored him and looked at Hopeto, "I think you should have something to say, Mr. Hopeto."

"Yes." Hope nodded. "In fact, I initiated this meeting. I wanted to ensure that a talented newcomer would join us. He is the creator of fairy tales, the author of Glenn's fairy tale collection, Mr. Glenn."

Everyone in the meeting started whispering when they heard this, and considering what happened with Connors just now, no one raised any objections.

Hope paused for a moment and continued, "I personally went to see him a few days ago. He is a very young man, but his artistic aura is no less than anyone else present. I am more certain of this from my conversation with him, so I firmly believe that he should join us and bring more outstanding works of art to the world."

"Most of us here have read fairy tales. At first glance, we feel that the stories are full of childish innocence. We will have a different experience if we continue to read them later. But we can't understand why you, a painter like Hope, admire this writer so much. It would be more reasonable if it was Selati who had this attitude, right?"

A few people on the opposite side seemed to be communicating for a while, and then a middle-aged man with a raised beard raised a question.

Hopto seemed to have expected this. He answered without thinking, "As you know, I haven't created a satisfactory work for many years, but those fantastic fairy tales have given me a lot of inspiration. The painting 'The Farm Under the Mountain' that won high praise at the exhibition last time was created after I read those fairy tales."

Everyone was suddenly enlightened upon hearing this.

“Good stories can indeed inspire artists. I heard that several new works by music master Dangome were born from reading this fairy tale.”

The middle-aged man with the mustache agreed.

Dangome is a veteran member of the club and an art master of the same era as the old man at the top. He has not appeared in the club or held activities for a long time.

"I don't think anyone would think Mr. Glenn is unqualified to join us now, right?" Hopeto asked vigorously.

Everyone nodded, including Connors, who didn't know if he meant it or not.

The meeting also discussed some recently created works of art, and when the scheduled end time came, everyone left leisurely, either in groups or alone.

When Hopeto walked out the door, Celati called him and was very enthusiastic, asking about Glenn.

In fact, if it weren't for the fact that he had been reading those fairy tales over and over again, it would have been Setira who would have gone to Glenn first.

He was also the person who was most inspired, which was why Connors' tone during the meeting just now irritated this paranoid and hot-tempered writer.

The two of them talked and laughed, and their relationship seemed to have become much closer.

After everyone except the old man at the table had left, the small door to the inner room of the conference room suddenly opened, and a woman in a gorgeous long dress and with a graceful figure walked out.

The old man also stood up, bowed to the woman, and said, "Your Highness the Third Princess."

The third princess raised her hand and stroked it, "No need to be so polite. I really troubled you this time. You let me eavesdrop here."

"It's nothing, actually. With your distinguished status, no one would say anything even if you were sitting here."

"This is against the rules. My mother entrusted this club to me, and I don't want to ruin the atmosphere of this meeting."

The third princess said this.

This club was founded by the Queen of the Kingdom of Zen, who at that time was also recognized as the most talented dancer and musician in the kingdom.

"You are just like her, always so gentle to others. I think the queen will be proud of you."

The old man smiled like an elder and said.

The third princess simply walked to the conference table and gently stroked the edge of the long table that had been marked by the years. "I still remember when my mother brought me here when I was a child, you were showing your works. It was truly an amazing art baptism, and it left a deep impression on me."

"But their performance just now must have disappointed you, Your Highness," the old man said helplessly.

The princess chuckled twice. "This kind of dispute is harmless. I've seen some ministers quarreling in private, and their arguments are much more intense than this."

"You seem to have said something that shouldn't be said, Your Highness." The old man seemed to have gotten used to the other party's unguarded attitude towards him, and there was no accusation in his tone.

The third princess turned around and stuck out her tongue.

"Your Highness, are you here because you are very interested in this fairy tale? Do you want to meet the author?"

After a moment's silence, the old man suddenly spoke.

"Yes." The princess admitted directly, "It's a bit regrettable to say this. If I could read these stories when I was a child, how happy it would be. Such a childhood is wonderful just thinking about it!"

"I can see that you really like it, Princess. I hope the author won't disappoint you."

……

The deer cart drove into a street with iron guardrails on both sides, and Glenn could see the road sign not far away.

I remember Hopeto said that his home was at 17 Antes Street in the west district of Lions City. Now Glenn was looking for him one house number at a time.

Finally, he saw a house with the number 17. Glenn parked the sled on the side of the road outside the yard, walked into the yard, and rang the doorbell.

Following the sound of footsteps in the room, the door opened a crack.

The person who opened the door was a little boy of about eight or nine years old. He held the door handle with one hand and held the door with the other hand. He raised his head and asked timidly:

"who are you looking for?"

"I'm here to see Mr. Hopeto, who invited me before. Does he live here?"

Glenn asked, bowing slightly.

"Dad is out." said the little boy.

When Glenn was thinking about asking more questions, a woman's voice came from the inner room:

"Amy, who is that?"

"I don't know. He said that his father invited him. I don't know him."

There was another sound of footsteps, and then a short-haired woman pulled the little boy aside and opened the door wider.

She smiled politely and asked, "Excuse me, is this Mr. Glenn?"

Glenn smiled politely and nodded, "It's me, ma'am. Where is Mr. Hopeto? How long will it take for him to come back?"

"He said he was going to a meeting and would be back today. Before he left, he specifically asked me to keep an eye out for a guest named Glenn. He sounded familiar, so I asked him if he was the author of the fairy tale. He said he was. I couldn't believe it, but now I see it! You don't know how much my son and I love your stories! Oh! Sorry, please come in soon. Hopeto should be back soon."

The woman welcomed Glenn into the house warmly.