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."
the first time
father embraced his deceased
father's two requests: to take care of Kate and to return to
by his father, Eddie found Terrace Street, where a master accepted him as a disciple
Eddie finally learned what Moon Hall was through inquiries and investigations-it was where
opposition, he had taken his
of pride and deepest shame
would hum tunes as she prepared breakfast
always intervened with a smile, and before
always say that their mother spoiled
her humble background. On the contrary, he saw her as a great
he really wanted to know was whether his so-called "grandfather" had ever regretted his actions over
again, his fair and handsome face now bearing
the words fell, Leandro's eyes grew
daze, seeing a resemblance to his own
made his way over, his elderly hand
He seemed somewhat lost.
"Y-you're called Eddie, right?"
"Yes."
father? How's he
Leandro's heart suddenly tightened. He was eager to hear
a hint of resentment and disdain
out of the Zamora
"I...,"
"He's dead."
"What... what?"
Dead?
he had refused to swallow his pride, but waited for his son to return and apologize. As long as he admitted his fault, Leandro would
expected his son to have such integrity, leaving Onistead with
came. When he finally heard the news, it was already too fate, separating him
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