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 Eddie had
his deceased mother and forever departed from
requests: to take care of Kate and to return to
Eddie found Terrace Street, where a master accepted him as a disciple and taught
older, Eddie finally learned what Moon Hall was through inquiries and investigations-it was where his father had
his grandfather's opposition, he had taken his mother and left
source of pride and deepest shame for
and gentle, tolerant and unassuming. She would hum tunes as she prepared breakfast for him and Kate in the
father wanted to scold them, his mother always intervened with
always say that
mother due to her humble background. On the contrary, he saw her as a great
to know was whether his so-called "grandfather" had ever regretted his actions over the
and lifted his head again, his fair and handsome face now bearing a hint of relief. "Yes, my father
Leandro's
a resemblance to his own unfilial son in the lines
his way over, his elderly hand
He seemed somewhat lost.
"Y-you're called Eddie, right?"
"Yes."
your father? How's
heart suddenly tightened. He was eager to hear the answer,
cold laugh, and a hint of resentment and disdain crept into
out of the Zamora family,
"I...,"
"He's dead."
"What... what?"
Dead?
had refused to swallow his pride, but waited for his son to return and
integrity,
heard the news, it
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