Dylan gave a brief glance towards him before nodding.
"Wait," he said, "I’ll freshen up and co."
Jasper nodded in understanding as he watched his brother turn and head upstairs. Then, exhaling lightly, he moved to take a seat in the living room.
As he sat on the sofa, his gaze drifted toward Eira and Karl.
And the more he listened to them—
The more dumbfounded he beca.
"Baby Eira," Karl said, his tone deliberately soft, clearly carrying an agenda, "your Mama loves you so much. She adores you so much. Can you also teach your Fourth Uncle?"
The little girl looked at him —visibly confused. Her lips pouted slightly, as if she was trying to process what exactly he was asking.
"Mama says Eira is the sweetest and the prettiest baby in the world."
Karl’s eyes lit up imdiately ... and he nodded eagerly.
"Yes, yes—Little Eira is the prettiest and the sweetest in the world. Even I, your Fourth Uncle, believe it wholeheartedly." He leaned forward a little. "So ... can you teach to be the sa?"
Jasper froze.
He knew his brother wasn’t exactly the most mature person—
But he had never imagined he would stoop this low.
Asking a four-year-old to teach him how to be sweet and pretty?
What was he trying to beco?
Another toddler in the house?
Jasper pressed his fingers against his temples, already feeling a headache brewing.
Karl, a full-grown man, was now kneeling on the carpet, blinking his wide, hopeful eyes at a child —competing for affection with absolutely no sha.
If not for the fact that they were bound by blood—
Jasper would have disowned him on the spot.
anwhile, Eira finally seed to process Karl’s utterly ridiculous request.
She tilted her head, her soft curls bouncing slightly, and studied him for a long mont before speaking.
"You can’t be like Eira," she said after thinking seriously.
Karl’s expression fell instantly.
His heart seed to drop, and his lips ford a pout that almost perfectly mirrored Eira’s.
"Why can’t I be like Eira?" he asked, his voice wounded —almost tragic.
"My looks can’t be that bad," he continued, sounding increasingly aggrieved. "I might not be as overwhelmingly handso as Big Brother—" he gestured vaguely toward the stairs, "—or carry the sa sculpted features as Second Brother—"
His eyes flickered briefly toward Jasper.
"—nor do I have a smile as charming as a blue moon like Felix, but—"
He straightened slightly, looking almost desperate to defend himself.
"I still co from the sa lineage. Sa blood, sa genes—how could I possibly be that far behind?" He placed a hand over his chest. "At the very least, I should qualify as a slightly discounted version of good-looking. Shouldn’t I?"
Eira blinked at him.
Once.
Twice.
Still processing.
Seeing her silent like that, Karl only grew more anxious. He leaned closer, lowering his voice as though asking sothing that could determine his entire fate.
"Baby Eira..." he whispered, almost pitifully, "is your Fourth Uncle really that hopeless?"
All he wanted was to be adored by his sister-in-law, so that she could protect him more. But if he didn’t have what it took to be adored by her —what would he do?
How would he survive?
Jasper couldn’t take it anymore. Staring at his brother, he finally said, "Don’t you feel even a little ashad, Karl Warren?"
Karl glanced at him and asked pitifully —still trapped in his self-made tragedy,
"Ashad? About what?" he asked. "About not having as great looks as you all?"
"You—" Jasper felt speechless.
However, before he could condemn him, Karl suddenly turned and asked, "Jasper —tell , seriously. You guys didn’t really pick from an orphanage, did you? I really carry the sa blood and genes as you guys, right?"
Jasper pursed his lips.
He couldn’t believe he was seriously having this conversation.
His jaw clenched the more he looked at him. Not wanting to entertain his nonsense, he asked back, "What if you are not one of us?"
Karl blinked.
"What if we really did adopt you to kill ti and spend so money? What would you do?" His gaze was sharp, as if genuinely challenging him.
And Karl really did look like the ground beneath him had been shaken. His eyes brimd with tears, and just when Jasper thought he would argue like before—
The man broke into tears.
"I am really adopted—wahhh!"
Jasper was dumbfounded. His expression changed almost instantly. His brows furrowed as he pointed at him. "You—"
"No wonder you didn’t love . Big Brother didn’t love . I was never your own. Waaah—"
"Stop it!" Jasper shot up to his feet. "Stop crying at once. That’s only making you sound more absurd."
Karl paused. He stared at his brother.
"Absurd? There’s nothing absurd. You yourself said I am adopted. You all picked just to kill ti and money."
Jasper wanted to kick him hard.
But he held himself back and clarified, "You aren’t adopted."
"I’m not?"
Jasper gritted his teeth but nodded. "We weren’t that free to pick you just to kill ti and money. I said what if you were. You were asked to imagine —not believe."
Karl imdiately shot up to his feet, wiped the tears off his face, and looked at Jasper.
"You should have said so. You almost made feel hopeless."
At this—
Before Jasper could say anything—
Eira tugged on Karl’s sleeve.
When he looked at her, she curled her fingers and gestured for him to co down.
Karl looked at her and slowly obeyed.
Getting back on his knees, he stared at his niece and complained, "Your Fourth Uncle was bullied."
Eira didn’t respond to that.
Instead, she moved her small hand to gently brush away the faint traces of tears on his face before softly saying—
"Fourth Uncle isn’t hopeless."
Karl blinked, his expression brightening.
"I’m not?"
The girl shook her head again.
"Fourth Uncle is also handso."
"Really?" Karl clung to her words and quickly asked again, "Then, Little Eira would teach to be like her?"
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