Chapter 115 : Do You Think I Still Have a Chance?
“I don’t know.”
Hearing this, Baifuli nodded. It made sense. To her father, Vivian was like a flower raised in a greenhouse—he would scrutinize even a butterfly that tried to approach her twice before allowing it near. Though the thod was sowhat extre, it could not be said that it had no effect.
At the sa ti, in order to keep her from encountering the darker side of the outside world, this approach had produced an obvious consequence.
Vivian had gradually beco sensitive and withdrawn.
More than anything, she remained naïve.
“And besides… Eve is the most suitable candidate,” Constantine continued. “Although she is not loyal to the Hatherin Family, her abilities are unquestionable. She can protect Vivian, and as a servant she will not attract unnecessary suspicion.”
Baifuli fell silent for a mont. The steam from the tea rose slowly before her eyes.
What he said was not unreasonable. This maid nad Eve—setting aside the sensitive matter of her identity—was simply an extrely beautiful woman with a very attractive figure.
But that part could hardly be ignored.
Thinking about the fact that she had most likely stained her hands with countless lives, Baifuli could not help wondering what thod her father had used to make a mber of Raven willingly accept such a role.
That truly was incredible.
Leaving the matter of identity aside, Baifuli’s expression relaxed again. Yet there was a faint trace of playfulness in her tone.
“Father’s decisions will always guide the Hatherin Family. I rely asked casually. You would not mind, would you?”
“As long as you are happy…”
Constantine: I have no objections, children. Because I am afraid that my eldest daughter might beco like my second daughter—refusing to talk to or even see . That would truly be disastrous.
Then Baifuli seed to think of sothing amusing and smoothly changed the subject.
“However… I have no objection to you wanting to protect my sister. But she is no longer a child. Eventually soone will catch her interest.”
Constantine imdiately frowned.
“You an…?”
“I an nothing.” Baifuli spread her hands innocently. “It is only a possibility. But what if?”
“My sister will eventually have her own feelings and choices. So… Father, have you considered that?”
Constantine did not answer imdiately. He rubbed his temples, looking sowhat troubled.
After a long pause, he sighed and finally spoke.
“I have considered it. But compared to letting Vivian choose the unknown, I would rather accept a controllable risk. For example—”
“Father.”
Baifuli interrupted him, the smile on her face stiffening.
“If you are about to say that you intend to personally select a suitable marriage alliance candidate, it would be better not to say it. I do not like hearing that.”
Constantine froze, suddenly unsure what to say. Even when he reached for his teacup, it remained held before his lips without being drunk.
Baifuli set down her own cup and walked to her father’s side, looking out at the night beyond the window. The streets were quiet.
“You are still the sa,” she said softly. “Always trying to arrange everything and shoulder all responsibility yourself.”
“That is the duty of the head of the family.”
Baifuli turned to face him.
“And also your weakness, is it not? Have you ever considered that perhaps Vivian does not need such protection? She is stronger than you think.”
Hearing this, Constantine smiled bitterly and shook his head.
“She may indeed be strong. But she is still my daughter. In my eyes, she will always be that little girl who needs protection—just like you.”
The words made Baifuli pause slightly.
A gentle warmth flowed between father and daughter, easing the tension that had filled the room earlier.
“You do not need to worry about ,” she said. “So the question still lies with my sister. You know what answer I want.”
“…Sigh… If things truly develop to that point…” Constantine hesitated for a long ti, clearly torn and worried. But in the end, he made his decision.
“I will respect Vivian’s choice—provided it does not harm her. And you, as her elder sister, must also keep an eye on things.”
“Pfft—”
“My daughter, this is not amusing.”
Baifuli could no longer hold it in. Covering her mouth, she burst into laughter. Each laugh made the father before her grow more and more uncomfortable.
Only in front of his daughters would he ever end up like this.
The toes inside his leather shoes were practically digging out a three-bedroom apartnt from embarrassnt.
Only after laughing her fill did Baifuli return to the desk and pour herself another cup of tea.
“This concerns my sister’s happiness. Even if you did not say it, I would still do so.”
“Then why are you laughing at ?”
“Oh? Because I thought of sothing amusing.”
Ignoring her father’s darkened expression, Baifuli returned to the topic.
“As for that Eve, I want her complete file. Not the beautified version you described—her real records.”
“There aren’t any.”
“There aren’t?”
“There truly aren’t. Have you forgotten what she used to do?”
Co on—she was an assassin. An assassin from the Raven Organization, no less. What ability did he have to obtain a detailed file? Even the forged version he had acquired was essentially him deceiving himself into believing it was real.
For a mont, the one left embarrassed was Baifuli.
Fortunately, her skin was thick. She chuckled softly and pretended nothing had happened—as if the conversation had simply lagged for a mont.
Father and daughter exchanged glances.
So kind of silent understanding seed to form between them.
At that mont, they stood on the sa side.
Baifuli took a sip of tea and suddenly asked,
“Oh, by the way. When I returned earlier, I saw that armor stand in the corridor. What happened to the succulent plant I left there?”
Constantine turned his head toward the window, pretending not to hear.
“Father?”
“Ahem… I accidentally killed it while raising it. Sorry.”
Baifuli blinked. The hand holding her teacup trembled slightly—not from anger, but disbelief.
“You an to say that a plant which could live for decades with nothing but occasional watering… was accidentally raised to death by you?”
“Yes. Accidentally.”
“Tsk…”
Hearing the clicking sound of her tongue, Constantine suddenly panicked. Back then he had confidently promised to take care of it and even guaranteed that he would raise it even better.
But he had been too busy and completely forgotten about it.
“So… do you think I still have a chance?”
“What do you think?”
Baifuli finished her tea in one gulp and set the cup down.
“Then I will not disturb you any longer. See you another day.”
“Hey, won’t you stay and chat a bit longer?”
Constantine raised his hand, but it was too late.
His daughter did not even look back. She opened the door and left.
Left alone in the Study, his gaze rested on the teacup his daughter had used. He remained still for a long ti.
The firelight from the fireplace flickered across his face, illuminating an expression that looked like he wanted to laugh—but could not.
“…I’ll just buy another pot next ti.”
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