[Oliver Scott]: Have you guys had New Year’s Eve dinner yet?
The screen lit up again.
Marcus Shaw, who was typing code, noticed the light, glanced over, and then looked away. A few seconds later, he still reached out to pick up his phone.
[Marcus Shaw]: No.
[Oliver Scott]: [Image]
[Oliver Scott]: Having a feast, no appetite.
Marcus Shaw opened the image.
The whole long dining table was filled with lavish dishes, chicken, duck, fish, at—a feast for the eyes, dazzling in its variety. Yet, with just three pairs of chopsticks, it lacked the lively atmosphere that a reunion dinner should have.
No matter how sumptuous the feast, when no one is in the mood to taste it, it becos flavorless like chewing wax.
Staring at the picture for a mont, for so reason, Marcus Shaw replied to the ssage.
[Marcus Shaw]: Having hot pot tonight, wanna join?
*
Ernesto Scott didn’t stay long; he checked on the elder, left so New Year’s gifts and red envelopes, and then left.
As soon as he left, Marcus Shaw ca in.
Nora Scott was walking by with a stack of red envelopes, caught sight of him standing there, and casually asked, "What’s up?"
Raising his eyes, Marcus Shaw, with one hand in his pocket, looked at Nora Scott and calmly said, "I want to steal soone back."
"Pfft—"
Laura Collins, who was drinking tea, upon hearing this explosive news, couldn’t help it, and sprayed a mouthful of tea.
Nora Scott was montarily stunned, but quickly composed herself and suggested matter-of-factly, "You’re not an adult yet, it’s not appropriate, right?"
Laura Collins: "..."
Wait, does your family rule that you can abduct people after becoming an adult?
"..."
Upon seeing Nora Scott and Laura Collins’s reactions, Marcus Shaw belatedly realized that what he said could have been ambiguous.
As he was pondering how to clarify, Nora Scott asked again, "Who are you stealing?"
"Oliver Scott."
Marcus Shaw smoothly answered the na.
Nora Scott looked at him in surprise.
—Since when did these brothers get so close?
They really exemplified the saying "No fight, no acquaintanceship."
Nora Scott asked, "Does he not know how to walk, or can’t catch a cab?"
"His mom won’t let him go out."
After answering, Marcus Shaw paused, then added, "He’s also craving our family’s hot pot."
After a brief pause, Nora Scott noticed his montary awkward expression, suddenly smiled, and said, "Alright then, pack up, let’s go ’steal’ soone."
A flash of surprise passed in his eyes, Marcus Shaw explained, "I can go by myself."
He said this to Nora Scott mainly to let her know there would be one more person at ho tonight.
That’s all.
Nora Scott raised her eyebrows, smirking, "You fail to ’steal’ soone, and end up getting yourself arrested, and it’s New Year’s, wouldn’t I be at a loss?"
"..."
Facing Nora Scott’s sarcastic remarks, Marcus Shaw always found himself speechless.
Laura Collins continued sipping her tea leisurely, glancing at the pair of siblings—On New Year’s, running to soone else’s house to cause a scene, can’t they settle down a bit?
However, what ca out of her mouth was, "Then I’ll prepare the ingredients later."
*
The low rumble of the car engine, the heavy sound of the wheels rolling over the ground, accompanied by the clattering of the iron gate in the yard, were terribly clear and piercing in this suffocatingly quiet villa.
In the bedroom, Oliver Scott lay on the sofa in boredom, occasionally fiddling with his phone. Seeing the ssages with no response, he felt a bit irritable.
In his chat with Marcus Shaw, the last ssage from Marcus Shaw still lingered at—
[Having hot pot tonight, wanna join?]
After that, he sent a barrage of questions, to which Marcus Shaw hadn’t replied.
Oliver Scott felt that Marcus Shaw was ssing with him, yet he was so bored that even if Marcus Shaw was playing him, as long as Marcus responded, he could graciously not mind.
The floor-to-ceiling window was open, the soundproofing wasn’t that strong, and Oliver Scott heard Ernesto Woods coming in, with Alma Ferreira waiting downstairs, but there was no interaction between them.
Exhaling, Oliver Scott decided not to get hung up on Marcus Shaw. He tossed his phone aside and got up to go downstairs.
He greeted Ernesto Woods, exchanged a few words casually, and after about fifteen minutes, because the atmosphere was too silent and awkward, he returned to his bedroom.
Since Sophie Scott’s plagiarism incident, the household atmosphere never escaped from silence, oppression, and heaviness.
Ernesto Woods didn’t really punish Sophie Scott, only scolded her a bit, ordering her that if she wanted to draw comics, she should do it well and not have any crooked ideas.
Alma Ferreira, however, certainly wouldn’t let Sophie Scott draw again, and with her idling at ho, she occasionally brought up the incident, scolding and ranting at Sophie Scott.
Sophie Scott’s mood grew gloomier by the day, always downcast, yet Oliver Scott’s attempts to talk to her were always rejected.
Perhaps because he had ntally prepared himself, on this New Year’s Eve, despite the chilliness, Oliver Scott found it not too hard to accept, aside from the long hours and a bit of boredom.
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