Chapter 165: Chapter 165: The Truth Revealed
Old Master Hawthorne took the wet wipe handed by the servant, wiped his hands, and glanced at his anxious appearance, laughing heartily, "I remember you didn’t hit your head and lose memory back then, did you forget someone?"
"I just refuse to say, I’ll drive you mad, you heartless kid!"
"Grandpa!" Cyrus Hawthorne’s brow was tinted with a bit of sternness, constrained by the fact that the person in front of him was the grandfather he always respected, suppressing the turbulent anger and urgency in his heart.
Old Master Hawthorne looked at Cyrus Hawthorne, quite surprised, and furrowed his brow.
Except for when Cyrus Hawthorne was a child, it had been many years since he had seen this boy so eager.
After pondering for a moment, Old Master Hawthorne sat down on the cushion in front of the chess table, poured Cyrus Hawthorne a cup of tea, and stopped withholding the information.
"Your Grandpa Vaughn practiced medicine all his life, and when traditional Chinese medicine was being collectively criticized, his only son, that scoundrel Howard Vaughn, moved away from the countryside, started from scratch, and turned to Western medicine."
"That scoundrel didn’t know what kind of heart he had, not returning to check on Old Man Vaughn for decades until the year Annie was born, when he finally did something decent."
The moment the words "Annie" entered his ear, Cyrus Hawthorne’s hand placed on the table suddenly clenched.
Then, Old Master Hawthorne stroked his gray beard and clearly stated—
"The camaraderie between me and Old Man Vaughn when we were young wasn’t good, but later when I learned that his granddaughter risked her life to save you from a sea of fire, I was sincerely grateful to their grandfather and granddaughter, wishing to express gratitude with all the good things in this world."
"Later, thick-skinned, I formed an alliance with Old Man Vaughn, resulting in the talk of childhood engagement."
"Haha, you may have forgotten, but I remember when you found out about this, you went out with a stern face, turned around, and stole a kiss on the girl’s cheek, making my old face nowhere to hide, fearing Annie’s grandpa would sweep you out with a broom."
"Unfortunately, fate played a trick. It’s one thing for you to change your heart as you grew up; you even ended up falling for the Second Vaughn Girl. How could Annie handle this? Lucky for you, she didn’t know your name, didn’t recognize you, or she’d have kicked you like she did when she was little."
As people age, they’re more prone to reminiscing, speaking continuously.
Old Master Hawthorne is highly perceptive and precise in reading people, so how could he not see that Ann Vaughn didn’t recognize Cyrus Hawthorne?
He refrained from reminding her to spare her unnecessary sorrow, after all, his disappointing grandson had developed feelings for her sister.
The more he spoke, the more sentimental Old Master Hawthorne became, entirely unaware that beside him, Cyrus Hawthorne’s mind was already engulfed in a storm!
"So, you forced me to marry Ann Vaughn on the wedding day because my childhood engagement was with her and not Cynthia Vaughn?" Cyrus Hawthorne gripped the teacup, his voice hoarse and intense, "Why have you never mentioned this before?"
"Otherwise, why do you think I always said to treat Annie well?" Old Master Hawthorne cast him a glance, waved to let the servants bring something over, and continued, "At that time, you treated the Second Vaughn Girl with such care, what else could this old man say?"
Soon the servant brought over what Old Master Hawthorne wanted.
Old Master Hawthorne opened a slightly old photo album, then pointed at a photo and showed it to Cyrus Hawthorne, "See for yourself, isn’t this boy here, who wanted to take Annie everywhere he went, you?"
"There are also photos of you taking a nap together, taken when you weren’t resting by me and Old Man Vaughn, all preserved well."
"And this one, where you were caught stealing a kiss from Annie..."
The photos were preserved well, yet they still slightly yellowed, and the scene in the photos remained clear.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s deep and unfathomable narrow eyes suddenly felt as if they had been thrown a massive stone, creating layer upon layer of turbulent waves.
Suddenly, his gaze fixed heavily on the lower right corner of the photo for a long time before he spoke with a hoarse voice, "Who is this girl?"
Old Master Hawthorne looked and said, "That’s the Second Vaughn Girl when she was young, this girl from her childhood disliked Old Man Vaughn and wouldn’t let him hold her, unlike Annie, who was sensible and obedient."
The next moment after the words fell, the force in Cyrus Hawthorne’s hand went out of control, and the bone china cup shattered in his palm.
Powder mixed with blood kept flowing.
"Bring the medical kit quickly!" Old Master Hawthorne’s brow twitched, angrily glaring at the absent-minded Cyrus Hawthorne, "You definitely didn’t come to me today just to reminisce, tell me, what exactly happened!"
Cyrus Hawthorne’s thin lips moved, but he remained silent.
Only his eyes, staring at the photo, were filled with a terrifying, blood-red hue.
Because in that photo, the girl Old Master Hawthorne said was Cynthia Vaughn was the one who stood behind Vaughn Family’s gate years ago, one word at a time, telling him she was Cynthia Vaughn!
Ha, no wonder.
No wonder whenever he mentioned childhood, Cynthia Vaughn always answered ambiguously, only responding the next day.
He understood that time had passed, and it was normal for memories to be vague, so he never forced her to remember.
It turned out that she had no such memories at all, unable to answer immediately, and hence found another way.
Vaughn Family never showed her childhood photos; she said she was too ugly then, and they were packed away later.
It was not that she didn’t have them but feared he would see her childhood appearance and realize she was never the girl he had thought of for those fifteen years!
In the past, out of ten times he preferred taking Cynthia Vaughn to meet his grandfather, she either declined or fell sick.
It was all due to her guilt, fearing being exposed—
Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes were locked onto those photos, on Ann Vaughn’s innocent and cute face.
Perfectly overlapping with the memories deep within him, not fading despite the passage of time.
He wanted to touch the girl in the photos, yet his hands were trembling uncontrollably.
As if a hole had been carved into his heart, endlessly filled with cold, biting wind.
Chilled to the extreme.
"I’ve come to fulfill the engagement, how about you?"
"Cyrus Hawthorne, if time could turn back, I would rather have never met you, never—saved you."
The last words Ann Vaughn said before being pushed into the operating room that night replayed vividly in Cyrus Hawthorne’s mind.
The hope in her eyes almost overflowed, filled with faint expectations as she looked at him.
And him, what did he do?
He mercilessly shattered her final expectations, crushed her dignity into the ground yet found it insufficient, even personally pushing her towards death!
She probably, utterly loathed him.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes were blood-red, nearly tearing as he stared at the album, face no longer showing his usual calm and composed demeanor, like a hurricane at sea, engulfing all the darkness in the world.