My son is a writer?

"Clark, I thought you've been caught up with the football club lately, not much time for extra socializing," Eric said to Clark as he entered.

"Sorry, been busy with extra practice. Coach Watt says we need to prepare for next Monday's game," Clark explained somewhat awkwardly.

"I understand. Sometimes you have to make choices," Eric replied, looking at the papers Clark held. "You're not here to convince me to join the football team, are you?"

"Not at all," Clark said, sitting down and handing the papers to Eric. "These are forms for the school blood donation drive."

"Blood donation drive?" Eric frowned. "You know, we're a bit different from others."

"I know," Clark's face showed a hint of helplessness. "Lana is organizing the blood drive and wanted to give this form to you, but couldn't find you after school, so she asked me to help. Even though I explained to her why you can't donate."

"I see," Eric took the form, nodding. "Lana? Isn't she the one who faints at the sight of blood? Remember when she fainted during the blood draw in seventh grade? Is she still organizing blood drives?"

Seeing Clark's puzzled expression, Eric explained with a smirk, "Don't worry, I'm not interested in Lana's personal life. You told me about it back then, didn't you?"

Before Clark could respond, Eric continued, "Let me guess how you turned down Lana. 'Not convenient, but I can help in other ways, like finding other people to participate or distributing cookies.'"

"You seem to know it all, Eric," Clark shrugged, taking the blood donation form from Eric's hand. "And always manage to 'hit' the mark."

"No, it's not about understanding you, but understanding the 'you involved with Lana'. After all, anyone can see through your intentions with Lana," Eric teased.

Faced with Eric's teasing, Clark's expression turned somewhat awkward. "I just want to help her, as a good friend."

"Then you have to be careful, or else once you cross the line, you can't use friendship as an excuse," even though he hadn't dated, Eric spoke with the tone of an "experienced person" to his "big brother."

After hearing Eric's words, whether teasing or encouraging, Clark nodded thoughtfully and got up to leave.

But after hesitating for a moment, he stopped, a struggling expression on his face.

"You seem strange today, Clark," Eric said.

"No, it's just..." Clark sat back down, facing Eric. "I saw you coming in earlier with something."

"So?" Eric's expression remained unchanged.

"And I caught a faint scent of blood from you," Clark became somewhat hesitant and uneasy. "I don't know if you've been up to something bad, but Eric, you can't keep doing this. I can't keep covering for you. If mom and dad find out, I don't know what'll happen. I don't want to lie."

"No one can always tell the truth, Clark, just like you won't tell Lana the real reason why you can't donate blood," Eric's expression remained calm. "It's the price we pay for our abilities."

"I know I can never convince you," Clark looked disappointed as he stood up. "It's getting late, I think I should head back."

"Clark!" Eric stopped his brother who was about to leave. "Sometimes, you can't trust your own eyes, because they can deceive you. Pay attention to the people around you!"

Clark froze for a moment, not understanding the meaning of Eric's words.

Eyes can deceive oneself?

Pay attention to the people around you?

What does that mean?

This sentence kept swirling in his mind, so much so that Clark, who usually slept well, didn't fall asleep until late.

The next day, in the afternoon.

Kent Farm.

"I told you, Jonathan, not to use the upstairs bathroom. It's clogged up again, and I had to spend a lot of effort clearing it," Martha called out to her husband as she sat at the table calculating finances.

"Sorry, didn't notice," Jonathan explained somewhat awkwardly to his wife as he entered the bathroom with his tools. "I'll fix it."

"You don't have the talent of a plumber, Jonathan," Martha looked up. "At most, you have the talents of an electrician and a farm machinery repairman."

"Can I take that as a compliment?" Jonathan turned to his wife with a smile.

Jonathan entered the bathroom with his tools, and Martha sighed heavily as she looked at the bills showing severe overspending.

"It seems like we need to prioritize the bank loan," Martha muttered to herself, worried about how to handle the high interest after the loan.

Just as she was worrying about not being overwhelmed by the high interest after the loan, several unexpected visitors arrived at the farm.

Accompanied by Neil, several middle-aged men in suits and leather shoes arrived at Kent Farm.

"You're looking for Eric?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes, but as guardians of Eric Kent, negotiating a publishing contract with us is also possible," explained the middle-aged man who introduced himself as the Metropolitan University Press, with a smile to Jonathan and Martha.

"Wait a minute." Jonathan asked the other party somewhat puzzledly, "Are you saying you're interested in Eric's submission, my son's work, and want to discuss publishing with him?"

"In fact, it's Mr. Eric Kent's manuscript recommended to us by Mrs. Neil. Full of imaginative and immersive effects, we believe it has high commercial value. Since Mr. Eric Kent does not have a literary agent, we can only visit him in person."

The middle-aged man from the publishing house patiently replied.

After hearing the middle-aged man's words, Jonathan and Martha turned their inquiring eyes to Neil, getting confirmation from her affirmative gaze.

"Can we take a look at Eric's manuscript?" Martha asked somewhat incredulously.

She never imagined that her youngest son would write a book. Although she often saw Eric writing and drawing, she thought it was just his hobby in his spare time.

Martha hesitantly took the manuscript from the other party's hand and began to browse through it roughly.

Just like before, it was clouded and unclear. Although there was a creepy feeling, it didn't seem to be influenced by the content of the text, but more like a meaningless physiological reaction.

No matter how you looked at it, it didn't seem like a work with any "commercial value."

"We have to wait for Eric to come back before we can discuss the publishing contract with him. After all, this is his work."

Even though his heart was filled with doubts and shock, Jonathan expressed his attitude calmly.

"Squeak!"

The door was pushed open, and Eric happened to come in at this moment.

Everyone immediately turned their gaze to him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

10 Advance Chapters: patreon.com/ReadingOasis

Make Sure to give a Review!

Sorry for the delay!!!