Overprotected By My Tsundere CEO-Chapter 541 - 333: Loughton: My Daughter-in-law Is Good in Every Way (21st Update)
Nora Scott sluggishly returned home.
She sat on the sofa in a daze.
Fond memories of regrettable events drifted into her mind...
She felt a momentary urge to die.
Why did she agree to him?
This is such an embarrassing thing.
"Click—"
The door was pushed open.
Marcus Shaw and Oliver Scott walked out of the study, and immediately caught sight of Nora sitting crouched on the sofa, frowning slightly, and tapping her forehead with her hand. They were both taken aback.
?
What’s up with our beautiful, spirited sister today?
She seems a bit out of it.
Marcus was fine, he glanced once and retracted his gaze.
—Lately, Nora has been studying acting, and her behavior is already odd, so nothing she does is surprising.
"Sis."
Scratching his nose, Oliver called out.
Immediately, Nora turned her head and glared at him, "What are you doing?"
A bit cold.
Could she have quarreled with her husband?
Oliver felt a chill and didn’t dare to say much, so he looked for something to say, "Weren’t you next door?"
"Teleportation."
Nora coolly replied.
"..."
Oh, she must still be in character. An actress like Nora, who lacks experience, probably finds it difficult to escape from a role.
Being naturally kind, Oliver empathized with her situation.
A few moments passed.
Marcus and Oliver were already at the door when Nora finally realized something was off.
She suspiciously looked over, "Where are you two going?"
"To the supermarket." Oliver bent down to change his shoes, "Getting some groceries for dinner."
Dinner?
Nora asked, "What time is it?"
Oliver estimated, "About five o’clock."
"..."
Coming back to her senses, Nora grabbed her phone, and as the screen lit up, she saw the time.
Five-oh-one.
It’s Saturday, and Miss Loughton usually performs with the bamboo flute in the community around four or five.
She hadn’t scheduled a specific time with Miss Loughton before, so it didn’t matter if she went or not, but this time was prearranged—she was supposed to go over in the afternoon, bring her bamboo flute, and have Miss Loughton give her a few pointers.
Running a hand through her loose hair, Nora took a breath, putting aside the promise she’d made to Pedro Langley.
A forty-thousand-word reflection?
I’ll write it next month!
But—
As she was putting on her shoes, Nora thought about the thirty-thousand-word reflection Amy Mansfield sent to her email last night, and she paused, feeling a vague worry.
People... shouldn’t be the same, right?
Her heart was in turmoil.
...
With her fundamentals, she didn’t need to dress up before going out. Nora took three minutes to change her outfit, tidied her hair, and headed out with her bamboo flute.
Upon arriving at the lakeside of the community, quite a few people were already gathered.
For the past two weeks, on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday afternoons around four or five, Miss Loughton would come here to play the bamboo flute.
Given this routine, coupled with the true pleasure of listening to her play, she gradually gathered a regular audience starting this week.
The audience was diverse in age.
There were six- or seven-year-olds, as well as seventy- or eighty-year-olds, and young people would also drop by to join the fun when they had time.
Of course, there were also parents strolling with two- or three-year-old children, treating it as a free artistic exposure for their kids.
Looking through the crowd, catching sight of the impeccably groomed and beautifully made-up Miss Loughton, Nora raised an eyebrow, choosing not to approach. Instead, she sat down on the same bench as before.
One piece followed another.
Nora squinted slightly, listening, occasionally recording short sections with her phone to send via WeChat to Julian Linfield.
[Julian Linfield]: What’s up?
[Julian Linfield]: Using someone else’s work to bluff me?
The phone vibrated twice, and to her surprise, Julian replied.
Nora was a bit surprised.
Julian seldom uses his phone.
Since he became a recluse, his phone has been almost useless. There’s a landline in his bamboo house, though he rarely uses it. If he got more than a few calls a day, he’d get annoyed, unplug the phone line, and leave it unplugged for three or four months without a care.
Lives alone with such idyllic days, who knows how happy he really is.
Until this time, when Nora came to learn the bamboo flute from him, did he start using his phone again. Every morning at six, he would video chat with her for about half an hour, and then not touch it again for the rest of the day.
Sending him a voice message was just a casual action, she didn’t expect he would actually respond.
[Nora Scott]: Using your phone in broad daylight, how rare.
Julian replied with a voice message: "Some rascal played a prank and stole my payment QR code. Since the new one isn’t ready yet, I can only use the phone for payments."
Then he added: "Where are you? The background noise is all jumbled."
[Nora Scott]: The neighborhood.
Raising her eyes, Nora glanced at Miss Loughton in the crowd, then continued sending messages to Julian Linfield.
[Nora Scott]: Listen to the female teacher who likes you playing the bamboo flute.
[Nora Scott]: Does it sound good?
Julian Linfield: "After listening to your noise every day, even a crying child sounds pleasant to me now."
Nora Scott: "..."
She had really given Julian a good opportunity to retort.
He wouldn’t let go of it every day now.
Julian Linfield: "Which school is she from?"
Leaning her head on her hand, Nora listlessly replied after reading the message.
[Nora Scott]: No idea.
[Nora Scott]: Maybe from an art training class.
Schools usually only have music teachers, not specifically for orchestral music. Teachers like this are mostly from training institutions.
[Julian Linfield]: ...Nonsense.
Nora Scott: "..."
What’s with the profanities out of nowhere?
Quite a while later, Julian sent another message.
Julian Linfield: "With this level, she’s probably national-level. If you hadn’t told me, I would’ve thought it was your future mother-in-law playing."
Nora Scott: "..."
That good?
Among the people Nora knew, Julian was the only one who could play the flute.
The ones she usually heard were either experts on TV shows or online professional tutorials... After meeting Miss Loughton, she thought everyone who played well was like her, unable to distinguish between good and bad.
Judging by Julian’s tone...
Could there be some background?
However, Nora subconsciously ignored Julian’s comparison to her "future mother-in-law."
"Future mother-in-law" is a university professor, probably too busy to come here and play the bamboo flute for fun.
Yet—
Nora found Miss Loughton quite pleasing, both patient and gentle when guiding. If someone like that were to be her mother-in-law, it might not be a bad thing.
Julian’s business was really struggling.
He chatted intermittently with Nora for half an hour and only sold an oil cake in between.
And as for what followed with that oil cake, Julian said it like this—
"It’s too outrageous! Young people these days love to waste food. Someone just bought my oil cake, took one bite, and threw it in the trash. Is it really that bad?"
Hearing Julian grumbling, Nora instinctively rubbed her stomach.
Whether it’s bad or not, let’s not discuss for now.
Ending up in the hospital after eating is no joke.
"Did you bring the bamboo flute?"
Flora’s gentle and smiling voice came through.
Stopping her internal complaining just in time, Nora put her phone away and then looked up at Flora.
"Yes."
As usual, Nora moved slightly to the side to give Flora some space to sit.
Typically, with so many listeners around, the bench would definitely be occupied. However, whenever Nora sat there, no one dared to approach. Many eyes would unconsciously fall on her, but no one dared to come near.
Nora picked up the bamboo flute set aside.
"Try playing a piece you’ve been practicing lately; let me hear it."
With a slight smile on her lips, Flora looked at Nora, sitting down beside her with a not-too-obvious delight.
After a brief acknowledgment, Nora held the bamboo flute, placing it horizontally in front of her.
The moment she blew the first note—
The scattered audience around shivered as if seeing heavenly light, promptly covering their ears and fleeing in all directions.
"God is fair! He gave her a perfect appearance but no artistic talent—"
A fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy dashed past, muttering sentiments of wonder and regret.
Every word fell unerringly into Nora’s ears.
Blowing the second note, Nora shot a cold glance over, causing the boy who had reached the grass to feel a chill down his spine, stumble, and nearly fall face-first into the ground.
The boy seemed to sense it and quickly shut up, hurrying away.
"Wahhh—"
Ten meters away, a half-year-old baby who was previously quietly sleeping suddenly burst into tears.
The parent’s face changed, hurriedly wheeling the stroller away, their steps fast as if escaping disaster.
In no time, the surrounding listeners scattered like birds and beasts.
Nora Scott: "..."
Flora Loughton: "..."
Nora didn’t pause, maintaining her composure, and continued playing without batting an eyelid.
Flora tried to hold back her laughter, determined to maintain her image in front of a potential future daughter-in-law, but couldn’t stop her mouth corners from turning up.
This scene was too dramatic!
She definitely would have to tell Langley about it later.
But—
Just as the thought settled, Flora’s gaze quickly drifted to the end of Nora’s bamboo flute.
LY.
Julian Linfield’s mark.
Did Julian also make a bamboo flute for her?
Thinking of recent school rumors, Flora’s heart skipped a beat.
