novelraw Chapter 359: Do You Want to Be a Widower for Life?
Chapter 359: Do You Want to Be a Widower for Life?
Richard Shaw brewed tea while calmly remarking, "Today you can only have two."
"Alright! Uncle Richard is the best!" With his short little legs, Casimir Shaw cheered and ran off for breakfast. Afterward, he carefully took the remaining rice cakes and presented them to Ignatius Leclair.
Ignatius watched the interaction between father and son, reached out to accept the offering, and looked at the roadside stall breakfast. Suddenly, an aching sourness welled up within him.
If Delphine’s child had lived and grown up, he’d be about the same age as Casimir Shaw now.
The Southern gentleman took a bite of the hard and greasy rice cake. Under Casimir’s expectant gaze, he nodded slightly.
Once Richard was done brewing tea, he ladled out several bowls of cooked rice porridge paired with small dishes. The three of them shared the simplest, most heartwarming breakfast.
After the meal, Richard’s attendant, Frost, peeked his head into the doorway of the small wooden cabin, grinning wide as he asked, "Chief, the old lady wants to know when the little master will return to Shaw Mansion this year."
The folks back at Shaw Mansion practically asked every day. The old lady had yearned so much for her great-grandson that her eyes were nearly worn out. Unwilling to make too many phone calls, she paid Frost, who lived nearby, to ask daily. It was now the twenty-fifth day of the twelfth lunar month—just a few days away from New Year’s Eve. No wonder the old lady couldn’t sit still.
"We’ll head back within the next couple of days." Richard felt somewhat guilty toward the old lady. The changes over the years had been immense. From a battle-decorated Major General to a solitary craftsman living in a small wooden cabin—no tactic of hers could sway her grandson. She’d nearly written him off, but fortunately, her great-grandson was sensible and lovable, which made her pain a little easier to bear.
"I’ll bring Casimir back to Shaw Mansion tomorrow. Are you planning to come along or return to the Southern Isles?" Richard asked lightly.
"The Southern Isles." Ignatius had come to the Imperial City on a whim, mainly to check in on Richard and his son. Besides, Bessie is getting married on the eighth, Delphine’s illness needs treatment, and there’s negotiation and appeasement to be managed with the old master. There’s no way he could leave the Southern Isles even for a moment.
Sitting by the charcoal brazier to warm himself, Ignatius noticed Casimir finishing his meal and beginning his homework—so obedient it was heartbreaking. His upturned, almond-shaped eyes grew dark and deep. After a long while, he spoke in a low voice, "Richard, are you really planning to spend the rest of your life raising Casimir like this?"
Kids from other families are raised with utmost care. This wooden cabin was entirely rustic, lacking even basic underfloor heating. Casimir had clearly adapted to life here—tying his own shoes, dressing himself, eating on his own, and glancing at others to read their moods, all while cautiously avoiding becoming a burden that might make his father resent him.
"When he’s older, we’ll split our time between Shaw Mansion and the cabin. The old lady pampers him too much there; letting him face a little hardship here isn’t a bad thing." Having finished cleaning up the dishes, Richard’s long, agile fingers—once used for handling firearms and ammunition—retained a brisk and precise efficiency as he tackled household chores.
Ignatius’s expression darkened slightly. He chuckled coldly, "I’m talking about you. You don’t intend to remain a widower forever, do you? Crystal Landon has been dead for seven years."
Richard’s hand paused abruptly around the teapot. What had been meant for Ignatius—a pour of Wuyi Da Hong Pao—was instead redirected to Richard’s own cup.
A sharp glint flickered in Richard’s gaze. His resolute jaw lifted slightly as he retorted, hitting the raw nerve, "You expect me to dredge up my scars over the absurdities you’ve inflicted these past five years? What’s impossible is Crystal and I. And you—after all this time, you’re still not officially in a relationship with Delphine Carter? You’ve treated her like some illicit possession while squandering her affection. You’ve turned a winning hand into garbage, yet you have the audacity to meddle in my affairs?"