Chapter 20: They Call Me the Bane of Death Dad's Votes

Richelle Dunn took a deep breath in secret, steadying her mind, and picked up the silver needle to focus on her work. Little Master occasionally stole glances at her, seeing her left hand supporting his father's head and her right hand holding the silver needle, her expression focused and solemn, her movements crisp and efficient, like a swordsman wielding a sword, cool and handsome, Little Master couldn't help but be fascinated. In no time, he heard his father's even breathing. After all, Little Master was still a child, and no matter how hard he tried to pretend not to care about Richelle Dunn, he couldn't help but feel a secret admiration and subtle pride in his heart for her. This time, he reluctantly agreed with Timothy and Tifanny that his mother was amazing. "Is Daddy asleep?" He asked carefully, his voice low, but Richelle heard it clearly. "Yes, your dad has been too busy, so auntie wanted him to rest well." Richelle was not sure if her eldest son knew about Roy Lewis's illness, so she answered ambiguously. Little Master raised his head, and suddenly, a touch of sadness that shouldn't be on a child his age appeared on his face. "I know, my father is very sick, and he could die at any time." Richelle was startled, her heart feeling as if it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, causing her to gasp for breath. How had her precious son managed to get through these days? She forcibly suppressed her tears, and even though she knew her son hated her touch, she still reached out and touched his head. "Timmy, don't be afraid, with auntie here, your dad will get better!" Little Master tried to shake off her hand, but after a light sway of his head, he stopped and let her cool palm rub against his head. His faint gaze landed on Richelle's face, "There are the best doctors in Daddy's hospital, but they can't save him!" Richelle's heart was minced by her son's seemingly calm words and tremblingly asked, "Timmy, who told you all this?" She believed that Roy, Uncle Axel, and everyone else in this house would never say such things in front of Little Master. It was too cruel for a four-year-old and precocious child! Little Master lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes casting a row of thick shadows under his eyelids, his expression indistinct. "The uncles and aunts in the old house all say so, they also say that I'm like my dad, a cursed child who will cause my parents' deaths!" What the hell, were the people in the Lewis family all demons? What kind of intentions did they have to say such venomous and evil words to a child? Since seeing her eldest son, Richelle had always firmly believed that he lived a happy life in the Lewis family. But now, she found out that her precious son had once been tortured in hell, her heart, already shattered, swayed in the cold and snowy ground. "My darling, don't listen to their nonsense, they're just jealous that your dad is more capable, richer, and more powerful than them. Also, you are a little angel sent by heaven to your mom and dad, the cutest baby in the world." Little Master blinked his eyes, "You mean, they are idiots?" Richelle rarely swore in front of children, but calling those people from the Lewis family idiots was an insult to the word 'idiot'. "Yes, they are idiots!" Little Master hummed, his dull eyes finally regaining some luster. "Are you very skilled in medicine?" Richelle's heart became a little brighter as well, she nodded with a smile, "Yes, auntie is very skilled!", she still had this much confidence in herself, "So, don't worry, your dad will live a long life!" Little Master hummed again, stared at her for two or three seconds, then lowered his head and turned a page of the book. Richelle also regained her focus, inserted the remaining silver needles into the corresponding acupoints, called Uncle Axel to help the sleeping Roy lie down, and then Uncle Axel went to do other things, while she sat on the sofa as usual and took out her iPad to read documents. But how could she concentrate on reading when her newly found eldest son was sitting just a few meters away on the bed? In her heart, she really wanted to hug Little Master like she hugged Timothy and Tifanny, let him lean on her chest, she could watch what she wanted, and her son could watch what he wanted. When he encountered something he didn't understand, he would ask her, and she would kiss the top of his head and patiently explain to him until he understood. "Hey..." Little Master's call interrupted her daydreams in her mind. She raised her head and saw her son frowning at her, his expression quite unnatural and awkward. "Timmy, what's the matter?" She nervously held her iPad and gently walked over, Little Master pointed to the book on his lap, looking like a young master. "Here, I don't understand!" Richelle was so happy she could die, not minding her son's attitude or whether it was polite or awkward. She bent down and carefully read the passage. "The meaning of this passage is that the fighter jet, besides having an anti-reconnaissance function that allows it to evade radar detection, can also launch smokescreen bombs to confuse the enemy's direction and vision." "So, is it trying to escape?" Richelle smiled, "Not really, have you heard the saying 'all's fair in war'?", Little Master nodded, so Richelle continued, "Appropriate concealment and distance are not about running away, they can also lure the enemy into a trap, thus gaining more operational space and increasing the chances of victory." Richelle had a wide range of interests and extensive knowledge, so her son's questions were not difficult for her at all. Little Master nodded again, not saying anything else, lowering his head to continue reading. Richelle plucked up her courage and tried sitting on the edge of the bed, seeing that her son wasn't making a sound, she relaxed and focused on reading the document. Later, there were a few more places that Little Master didn't understand, and the questions he asked were very tricky, but Richelle provided satisfactory answers for each one. This kind of warm interaction between mother and son was something Richelle could only dream of but not dare to think about. So, she wished time could slow down, slow enough for her eldest son to become fond of her, and even develop some dependence on her as a son should have for his mother. But reality is often so cruel, even if Richelle didn't want time to pass, it was time to remove the needles from Roy. She told Little Master and then got up to remove the silver needles. By now, she had no more excuses to stay. Moreover, she had originally made an appointment with Mr. Chapman to discuss Diana Thompson's condition together with the psychiatric doctor. She packed up her things, went around to Little Master's side, bent down and said to him, "Timmy, auntie has to go to work at the hospital, will you keep your dad company here?" Little Master seemed unwilling to bother with her, raising his eyelids to look at her briefly. Rushing to lower his eyes, he whispered. "Yeah... you go... after all, I'm used to being alone, it's no big deal..."