Chapter 218: Chapter 218: Your Skills Aren’t Bad
"What do you want?"
"Briar Bear wants to eat honey."
"Ha." In the exchange, Cyrus Hawthorne had already captured the IP address of the person on the other end, ready to lock it the next second.
But the other person was equally quick, almost tracing him back at the moment he was about to be locked in.
A rare hint of interest flickered in Cyrus Hawthorne’s narrow ink-black eyes as his slender fingers tapped rapidly on the keyboard, so fast that phantom shadows could be seen.
After nearly ten minutes, this silent battle finally came to an end.
Both sides took a step back, no longer attacking each other’s IP address.
"Your skills aren’t bad." The black eyes of Cyrus Hawthorne widened slightly with a touch of pleasure, his expression lazy yet somewhat proud.
This person was indeed a rare talent.
If he could recruit him, it would not be a bad idea.
As Little Dumpling read this message, sitting in the apartment room, he was patting his little chest, feeling as if he had survived a disaster.
Indeed, this man couldn’t be underestimated; he almost fell into his Trojan trap and got his real address pulled.
Moreover, aggressive and unique hackers like him were few, among whom Emperor known to Kenny was one.
But he didn’t expect this man to be even more dangerous.
However, if this man wasn’t his biological father, Kenny still admired him.
After clearing the IP address information, Kenny went offline directly, not giving the other side any chance to track him down.
Then, Little Dumpling sneakily opened the web page, pondering what kind of video to send tomorrow to provoke him.
...
The next day, Ann Vaughn drove up to Cloudmere Manor.
This was Ann Vaughn’s first time at Cloudmere Manor. Standing outside, looking at the towering bamboos inside the walls, she suddenly felt a bit nervous.
Entering from the manor, through the path, Ann Vaughn saw Old Master Hawthorne playing chess with himself at the chess table.
The old gentleman looked the same as before, only his spirit seemed not so well, occasionally coughing twice.
"Grandpa Hawthorne..." Ann Vaughn poured the freshly brewed tea into the bone china cup beside Old Master Hawthorne, feeling a bit teary, "Annie has come back to see you."
"Annie?" Old Master Hawthorne’s hand holding the black piece trembled, his gaze faltering. It took a long while before he revealed a broad smile, "You’ve come back. Just in time to play a game with Grandpa."
"Okay." Ann Vaughn responded, sitting down across from him.
The grandfather and granddaughter played chess back and forth, only stopping when the sun rose high.
"Old Master, it’s time for your medicine..." the family doctor walked over with medicine, pausing when he saw Ann Vaughn, "Who is this young lady?"
Old Master Hawthorne’s hand holding the teacup trembled again, he widened his old eyes looking at the family doctor, "How can you see her?"
The family doctor chuckled, "What are you saying, Old Master? This young lady isn’t a ghost; how could I not see her?"
"So, it really is Annie who came back?"
Ann Vaughn blinked, suddenly realizing that Grandpa Hawthorne thought her ghost appeared here, so he hadn’t asked her anything, just played chess with her.
Understanding this made Ann Vaughn’s heart feel both sour and sad.
"Grandpa Hawthorne, Annie has really come back. If you don’t believe me, feel if my hand is warm." Ann Vaughn said, placing her fingers on Old Master Hawthorne’s wrist.
After taking his pulse, Ann Vaughn took out a vial from her handbag, "Luckily, it’s just a cold, nothing severe. You’ll recover quickly after drinking a dose of this medication."
Hearing her words, the family doctor was about to hand the medicine to Old Master Hawthorne when he saw Ann Vaughn’s action and became anxious.
"You can’t just give Old Master random medicine."
Old Master Hawthorne said nothing, directly swallowing the medicine Ann Vaughn handed him, with his old eyes brightening right after.
"This tastes quite good."
The family doctor: "..."
Ann Vaughn chuckled softly, seeing the family doctor looking worried, she explained, "You don’t have to worry, this is medicine for a cold. After an hour, you can check Grandpa Hawthorne, and you will see the effects."
The family doctor snorted.
What a joke, if you said it would work in a day, he might believe it, but saying an hour, are you making fun of him?
Seeing his doubt, Ann Vaughn didn’t insist on explaining further; once the effects showed, the truth would be evident.
"Girl, Grandpa will personally cook something delicious for you today, what do you want to eat?" Old Master Hawthorne felt much more spirited, standing up and walking inside.
Ann Vaughn followed behind him, quickly saying, "Grandpa Hawthorne, for so many years I haven’t cooked a meal for you, let me do it today."
"No way, do you think Grandpa is too old to handle a spatula?"
"Of course not..."
But letting Grandpa cook for her, she felt too guilty.
"Old Master Hawthorne, Mr. Hawthorne is outside, saying he wants to see you." Just then, the manor’s butler walked up to Old Master Hawthorne, reporting softly.
Old Master Hawthorne frowned, just about to say to let him go, then changed his mind suddenly, "Let him come in."
The butler, full of surprise, hurried to comply.
When Cyrus pushed open the door from the corridor and walked inside, he saw the old and the young arguing in the kitchen about who should cook, the confusion in his heart suddenly dissipated.
A warmth slowly enveloped his deep eyes, melting away the frost within.
"You’re here." Old Master Hawthorne caught Cyrus’s figure from the corner of his eye, snorted coldly, "Every time I see you, you ungrateful brat, I get upset."
The butler quickly wiped the sweat from his forehead, amazed at how Old Master just uttered such words.
If Mr. Hawthorne wasn’t filial, then who else would be filial to the old man?
Ann Vaughn didn’t expect Cyrus to visit Grandpa Hawthorne just at this time either. She was stunned for a second, then withdrew her gaze.
"Grandpa." Cyrus took steady steps forward, calling out in a low voice, his deep eyes resting fixedly on Ann Vaughn wearing an apron.
Old Master Hawthorne ignored him, looking at Ann Vaughn with affection, "Girl, let’s go watch TV, let him do this tedious work."
Ann Vaughn silently gave Grandpa Hawthorne a thumbs-up in her heart, nodding, "Alright, Grandpa."
With that, the grandparent and grandchild left the kitchen, leaving a bunch of ingredients for Cyrus, the real grandson, to handle.
In that glance, Cyrus hadn’t missed the schadenfreude on Ann Vaughn’s face, his thin lips curled into a faint smile.
"Mr. Hawthorne, I can take care of these. You should rest first!" said the butler, already picking up an apron, ready to start helping.
"No need." Cyrus stopped him with a calm voice, "You may leave."
"Ah? Oh, okay."