Richard Shaw’s face turned a few degrees colder, watching her radiant smile and the intimate tone when she conversed with the other person. For the first time, he realized that during the years he wasn’t by her side, Leah might have found someone she had feelings for. Although she was his wife, his spouse column bore the name Crystal Landon, who was already deceased. She was now Leah, Leah Squire, having nothing to do with him.

Nowadays, Leah regarded him merely as an old man with a child, paralyzed in his legs, unemployed, needing support, lodging in her home as a cook! All of this was his own doing, whom could he blame?

The man’s heart felt depressed, and naturally, his face showed a touch of cold sternness. His tea-colored eyes narrowed slightly, and he asked in a low voice, "Your boyfriend?"

The tone carried inexplicable bitterness.

Leah was stunned for a moment, feeling that the man’s tone was somehow odd.

"My attending physician." Leah thought for a moment, then spoke with a smile, squinting her beautiful peach blossom eyes, "Aiden is coming to the South Pacific next week. I’ll take him to dinner then. Remember to prepare a few more dishes? He’s always wanted to eat authentic Chinese food."

Her voice was tender and soft, yet it was for another man. Richard Shaw’s face became even more somber, he said nothing, turned around, and wheeled himself into the kitchen to wash the dishes.

Casimir Shaw, sliding down from his seat, tugged at Leah’s skirt, whispering, "Mommy, Uncle Richard is sad."

Leah opened her eyes wide, leaned down, and asked somewhat troubled, "Why?"

Casimir’s dark eyes blinked as he quietly said, "Uncle Richard doesn’t like cooking for others, except for Mommy and Thomas."

Leah bit her red lips; it’s not like she could cook instead, could she? She didn’t know how to cook, at most, she could boil noodles.

Although young, Casimir was precocious and smart. He hooked his arm around Leah’s neck, smiling and saying, "Mommy, Uncle Richard is easy to coax. Every time I make him angry, I just hug him, act cute, and say, ’Uncle Richard, you’re my favorite.’ Then Uncle Richard won’t be mad."

Leah’s face instantly felt a bit hot; how could she possibly go and coax a cook moonlighting as a housekeeper? Although this man had looks that fit her aesthetic—belonging to the cold, ruggedly handsome type—but he was a widower, with children. Could it be that her millennium-old iron tree would bloom only to bloom on a widowed old man?

Leah’s thoughts ran wild, her face somewhat flushed. The country bumpkin from the mountains seemed obviously unfamiliar with social norms, stubborn and rigid, likely not to be fickle in affections; also, his background was simple, posing no threat to her and Griffith Squire. The key point was his good looks, although his legs couldn’t walk, making sexual life potentially disharmonious.

For some reason, whenever she thought of indescribable matters, a succession of images automatically flashed in her mind: in the dark night, the man’s tight waist, his coarse breathing, and the sweat trickling down, his scorching skin pressed against her, wildly rising and falling.

Leah quickly shook her head, her throat slightly dry, saying, "I’ll go out for a while. You have to be good at home."

After speaking, she picked up her bag and fled.

Casimir blinked his innocent big eyes, lying by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching Mommy drive off. Only then did he scamper into the kitchen, calling out, "Uncle Richard, Mommy got upset and left."

Richard Shaw: "..."

The man pressed down his wheelchair, somewhat suffocated, and came out, looking at the schadenfreude Casimir Shaw. He narrowed his eyes slightly and said in a low voice, "Write an essay and do a set of practice papers today."

"Ah~" Casimir’s face instantly crumpled, feeling like crying.

Casimir resignedly went to write his essay, while the man, melancholy and disheartened, looked at the empty living room, then dialed Ignatius Leclair.

He had been so busy these past few days that he forgot to settle scores with old Leclair.

"Does the Leclair Family still need Casimir to go over there?" Initially, Ignatius had taken Casimir over to appease the old man, intending to protect Delphine Carter. Little did he expect, indirectly, it led to the father and son meeting Leah and thus moving into Leah’s home.

Speaking of it, he really should thank old Leclair, although old Leclair concealed matters regarding Leah for half a year, yet Richard Shaw was quite content now.

"No need anymore. The old man is no longer concerned with the Cloud Family’s affairs. Delphine is the child of the Cloud Family’s second master, Cloud Mist. Currently, the Cloud Family is in turmoil, embroiled in lawsuits." Ignatius Leclair narrowed his eyes with his phoenix-like gaze, calmly saying, though internally, he was somewhat vexed.

After Delphine recognized her biological father, she broke up with him. Over the past year, Ignatius Leclair could finally see it clearly—the girl who was fostered in Leclair Mansion from a young age and who loved him desperately during her adolescence changed drastically in temperament, remaining elusive and teasing him after her tumultuous five-year journey, leaving him quite troubled.

Inexplicably, Ignatius Leclair’s obsession with cleanliness escalated to an intractable degree over these past years, accepting only Delphine Carter. His lifelong happiness solely depended on her; yet being a man accustomed to high authority, he absolutely wouldn’t pursue or coax a woman. Recently, the two were in a deadlock.

Richard Shaw sat in his wheelchair, flipping open the half-read book, coldly snorting: "Things are so bad, was it because Delphine found her biological dad and dumped you? I told you earlier, if you liked her, why wouldn’t you just openly say it, marry her and everything would be resolved, no need to be so pretentious."

"Ha-ha." The Crown Prince of the South Pacific squinted his eyes at this remark, sneering, "Even Major General Shaw can lose his wife for five or six years, saying such things with such bravado, huh?"

Here was the autumn reckoning, deliberately poking at his wounds—Ignatius Leclair felt he couldn’t endure it.

Richard Shaw paused slightly in flipping through the book, leisurely replying, "I’m currently living with Leah."

Ignatius Leclair: "Let me know when you’re in bed with her. After not using certain functions for five or six years, who knows if they still work."

Richard Shaw decisively hung up the phone, feeling increasingly dejected. Why did he feel like calling Ignatius Leclair? Calling Balthazar Howard or Alaric Howard would have been better than looking for Ignatius Leclair.

However, both Alaric and Balthazar were married; if he mentioned Crystal Landon not being dead, Alaric Howard might fly back from the United States immediately, wouldn’t he be digging a pit for himself?

After pondering this and that, Major General Shaw realized he had become so closed-off over these six years that he barely had any friends to share his feelings with.

Richard Shaw tossed the book aside, his long-sustained calm Heart Realm vanished.

The man lowered his eyes, looking at his left leg, which had lost sensation for six years, propped up, and tried moving his right leg. Back then, when both legs were hit by bullets, the central nerve of the left leg sustained trauma, making it nearly impossible to walk. The right leg was slightly better, but after six years of disuse, the muscles it too atrophied somewhat.

The man shifted his right foot, attempting to stand. A piercing pain shot through the right leg, and he fell to the ground within a minute, while the left leg remained entirely numb.

Richard Shaw lowered his eyes, his handsome, resolute face flashing a glimpse of gloom.