A Call from Home

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Raizel wondered if she would ever get tired. It has been three days now and yet--

"The food is delicious, isn't it? I heard young children also like to eat Glazed Fried Dumplings."

"Work went well. I learnt a lot, most of all; I learnt the parent's sin should not be visited on the child."

"Uncle Peter, A child is a precious thing, isn´t it? It is our job to treasure and appreciate him."

Raizel was confident in his ability to ignore her but the looks he had been getting had been growing stranger each day. Today was the limit..

Old Lin actually reduced his food. Since he was not certain if he was mistaken he looked over twice at every other plate and sure, his bowl of wonton in sesame sauce was the smallest.

He eyed Old Lin tentatively. Was this called ganging up on him with his granddaughter? How did things turn out this way?

As he ate, he felt that it was entirely his fault. He should have gone right back the moment he saw her or at least erased her memory or casted the second level of the Great Shrouding Art.

His desire for mundane food has caused him to lose a portion of this meal.
That is terrible! But remembering the taste of the ice cream, he doubted if he would do it anything differently.

He placed the bowl on the table with the ten spirit stones and closed his eyes to assimilate the energy. Feeling it was time, he stood up to leave.

"Raizel, wait. Don't be a hurry to leave. Oliver has something he said he would like to say." Seeing the frown off Peter's face, He was sure that he had gotten over losing the bet to Old Ben.

He knew that Peter was a habitual drunk, but he had no idea that he was a sore loser as well. He had been so bitter to the extent that he had come to his shop to engage in a staring contest with Wren, using his aura to make sure that the boy would not cultivate in peace.

Without doubt, Raizel had kicked him out for his childish actions. His master had done him that one should be responsible for his actions. Since he made the bed, he should have prepared to lie on it.

He turned to look at Oliver, and his eyes widened, seeing him clearly for the first time that night.

He was dressed in a light blue shirt and black trousers looking very smart and neat. His stubble was gone, and his wild hair was finely trimmed. He looked at least ten years younger.

He stood up when he noticed than all eyes were looking at him. He gave a small cough and silence reigned. By now, one could hear a pin drop, Lin Mengmeng even tried to reduce the sound of her breathing due to the serious atmosphere.

Oliver brought his hands close to his mouth and coughed again.

All hell went loose.

"Old Oliver! Are you an old woman or perhaps you can't speak?" Ben asked in a kind yet irritated voice.

"Fart! You have the mind to call him Old Oliver! Look at him, then look at yourself, Doesn't he look like your son?" Peter shot back.

It was clear that Peter had no intention of letting go of the fact that Ben won the bet and collected his precious castor bean. He had saved that material for over 30 years not letting it out of his sight.

"Ah! Old Peter calm your temper. As a cultivator, you should always remain in peace." His face was flowing with monk-like calmness and at the same time had a gloating smile on it. It was really difficult to achieve.

The calm smile seemed to set Peter off the more," Just look at your protruding stomach. Do you fancy yourself a monk?"

Ben sighed and folded his hands as if in prayer, "Amitabha."

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