Chapter 602: He's Dead Eight Years Ago
Even Abel hadn't expected the connection between the two.
He turned around to carefully assess the upright and gentle young man behind him, finding a resemblance to an old acquaintance.
"Is your father really Willie?"
Eddie clenched his fists hidden in his sleeves, his thoughts drifting back to a time long ago when his father had held his hand and led him into the courtyard. Pointing to the medicinal herbs on the wooden rack, he had explained the names and uses of each one to Eddie.
"Eddie, take a look. This is called Plantago, with a sweet taste and a cold nature."
"Dad, can this herb be consumed?"
"Of course, Plantago has diuretic, cooling, antitussive, and expectorant effects."
"I see. Is it because Sister has been feeling a bit unwell recently that we needed to find it?"
"Yes, Eddie, you're truly clever."
The memories scattered, and in the blink of an eye, they transformed into the tragic scene of a car accident, with his mother no longer breathing.
His father, covered in blood, lay on the ground, barely clinging to life as he grasped Eddie's hand, exerting all his strength to utter his final words.
"Eddie, your mother and I won't be here anymore. You must take care of your sister."
"Okay."
"And...take this, go to Terrace Street, find... Mr. Jonathan Owen."
"Dad, please don't leave us."
"Eddie, the only regret I have is I may never be able to return to Moon Hall, Onistead in my lifetime."
was the first time
last words, his father embraced his deceased mother and
mind retained his father's two requests: to take
Eddie found Terrace Street, where a master accepted him as a disciple and taught him
Eddie finally learned what Moon Hall was through inquiries
he had
shame for
and unassuming. She would hum tunes as she prepared breakfast for
his mother always intervened with a smile,
always say that their mother spoiled
down on his mother due to her humble background. On
whether his so-called
and lifted his head again, his fair and handsome face now bearing a hint of relief. "Yes, my father is called Willie Zamora, and my mother is
the words fell, Leandro's eyes grew slightly
young man before him in a daze, seeing a
he hesitantly made his way over, his elderly
He seemed somewhat lost.
"Y-you're called Eddie, right?"
"Yes."
father? How's he
heart suddenly tightened. He was eager to hear the answer, yet afraid
let out a cold laugh, and a hint of resentment and
of the Zamora
"I...,"
"He's dead."
"What... what?"
Dead?
had just heard. For so many years, due to his own pride and prejudice, he had refused to swallow his pride, but waited for his son to return and
expected his son to have such integrity,
about him came. When he finally heard the news, it was already too fate,
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