Brin’s ho is on the outer west side of the city center. There’s nothing particularly special about this area except that the revered Grand Duke of the Empire’s Southern Ridges, Duke Ian Silverpeak, has his forr residence just a street away.
Well, calling it a forr residence isn’t quite right, as Duke Silverpeak occasionally returns to stay there. Strictly speaking, it’s either his old ho or a ’forr palace residence’.
Even today, Brin still feels both fear and relief over the ti he fought with Ian and risked his life alongside Ian against the Natives. But that’s all in the past, and nowadays, in the Yinfeng Grand Duchy, he’s considered part of the upper echelon, all because he once fought alongside Ian and provided him with herbs during his toughest tis.
But that’s all there is to it—Brin isn’t foolish enough to use this relationship to force his way into being a real high-ranking official. He’s content to be a steward in a branch of the massive Silverpeak Comrce Guild—a position he never imagined he could hold.
He is satisfied, and thus focuses on the present.
"Dad~"
Just as Brin finished getting dressed and ca down the stairs to the dining table, a little white-haired girl reading a book while eating bread looked up and waved enthusiastically.
Little Sophie certainly ant well greeting her dad, but she forgot the bread had butter on it. With her grip not tight, flecks of butter flew, splattering on the wall behind.
"Ugh..."
Seeing this, Little Sophie imdiately shrank back her head, while the black-haired woman coming out of the kitchen looked over, half amused and half annoyed, saying, "Eating without table manners, sitting without posture, close the book and eat your breakfast properly, and clean the ss yourself later!"
"Dear, say sothing too!"
"Right—"
Sophie lengthened the tone of her voice and cautiously glanced at the man standing with his back to the sunlight.
Brin, with a poker face, approached, and while his daughter ducked, he suddenly reached over, scooped a bit of butter from the table, and sared it on the little girl’s cheek. "Hey!"
He rubbed his daughter’s cheeks, grinning mischievously, "Haha, my little white bread, here’s so butter for you too!"
"I’m not a bread!" The white-skinned girl with slightly chubby cheeks scread and waved her arms angrily, "I will lose weight!"
But her puffed up look made her resemble bread even more.
"Grown-up still playing with kids!" Seeing this, his wife sighed deeply. Brin laughed heartily and gestured to the already solidified butter, causing all the grease to fall off the wall into the garbage can: "It’s no big deal, Sophie loves reading and greeted , it’s such a wonderful thing."
Over the years of practice, he wasn’t just an ordinary person with no Sublimation Power left.
After finishing this, Brin stepped forward, took so butter from the table, sared it on his wife’s lips, and gave her a deep kiss: "You’re also my favorite honey bread... you’ve worked hard all these years, Fran!"
"Hmm... you rascal!"
Before Little Sophie could react, the couple parted, and a blushing Fran returned to the kitchen: "Take Sophie to wash her face! Eat quickly too, or the eggs will get cold!"
"Let’s go!" "We’re leaving, Mom!" "Take care."
As the tidied-up Brin and Sophie bid farewell to Fran and stepped out the front door, the sumr breeze was slightly intoxicating. Golden sunlight pierced through the leaves of the trees planted along the street, casting mottled shadows.
Until a roar ca from the house next door.
"You little brat!"
It was a deep, resounding male voice, full of raging anger: "You didn’t do your howork again!"
Bam!
The front door swung open, and a little boy with a backpack ca running out of the house in near panic. Seeing Sophie and her dad, he imdiately perked up: "Hello, Uncle!"
"Sophie, let’s walk together..."
Before he could finish speaking, a slightly dark-skinned White Folk ca out in a huff, holding a belt. Seeing this, the boy started to wail and run: "Dad, please don’t use the belt!"
"Aw, aw, aw."
The umber-skinned White Folk was about to chase when Brin extended a hand, stopping his old friend Senan and advising, "It’s just a little unfinished howork. We adults struggle with the academy’s assignnts too; it’s normal for kids to be reluctant to write them."
"You have no idea what this brat has done!"
Senan didn’t really want to beat his boy today with the parents’ eting coming up, and with Brin giving him an out, he went along but remained fuming, "Every day, the teacher assigns howork, and he either skips a question or two!"
"The workbook assigned daily, he only writes on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and the summary questions every day, he only writes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, making think it’s the teacher’s cyclic assignnt, but he literally does only half!"
As he spoke, Senan couldn’t help but grit his teeth, "His reluctance to write is one thing; he’s wholeheartedly trying to take advantage of loopholes! If he used this cleverness to study, it’d be great, but instead, he’s using it to play mind gas with !"
"These things can still be taught now, but in the future, if his shortcuts get discovered..."
At this point, rather than being angry, he sighed.
Senan had been a sailor from a young age.
Aboard the Distant Seas Fleet, the captain’s orders were absolute, and the rules set couldn’t be broken by anyone. The captain of the fleet was the ruler of all the crew, holding the power of life and death.
Senan rembers how once, a crew mber tried to secretly hide a crystal of a Sun-basking Clam, and after being caught by the captain, was tossed into the sea where Gargantuan Eels prowl—and it wasn’t long before he was swallowed.
User Comments
0 comments from readers