Chapter 794: Chapter 794 Purification or Pollution_1
Gossiping about others behind their back already seems petty, and now there’s even baseless accusations of deliberate murder.
Purple Summers felt that after she got closer to Alexander Summers, her whole person was developing in a sleazy direction.
She didn’t know whether, in the end, she would purify him, or he would contaminate her.
When the two returned to the little Western-style house, Atra Blanc was in the living room packing cardboard boxes. The space where the sofa was originally placed had been cleared, and it was now filled with boxes of various sizes.
Atra Blanc was sentimental; although they didn’t need to take furniture and appliances when moving, she still managed to pack a big pile of odds and ends, reluctant to throw anything away.
Alexander frowned and said, “Mom, what old stuff have you packed up? Throw away what should be thrown away. We can buy new ones when we get to the new house.”
He casually opened a cardboard box and saw neatly bubble-wrapped bowls inside, his face immediately darkened, and his tone was unkind, “Even broken bowls need to be taken? Are you worried we won’t have bowls to use when we move to the new house?”
“These bowls are all handcrafted, with unique glazes that you definitely can’t find on the market,” Atra Blanc, feeling disdained by her son, was somewhat sad, “Every time I went to the market, I would pick up one or two, and it took many years to collect these…”
“And what about these?” Alexander, opening another box, became even more irritable, “What’s the point of keeping a pile of old toys?!”
Purple Summers also curiously leaned in to look.
The cardboard box was full of children’s toys, from all age groups: remote control planes, transformer cars, picture books, toy guns… an array of toys crammed the box. Purple Summers, with keen eyes, spotted a sketchbook, took it out to look at it – it was Alexander’s childhood art homework, whose drawing skills could only be described as disastrously bad.
She looked and stifled a laugh.
Atra Blanc said, “These are memories of childhood, very precious. You are young now and don’t understand their value, but when you have children in the future, you will know.”
After saying that, she lifted a red silk pouch as if she was presenting a treasure, and said with a glowing smile, “Your baby hair from when you were one month old is also here.”
“Hahahaha!…” Purple Summers leaned against the box, laughing heartily.
Atra Blanc then said, “Purple, don’t laugh at your brother. You have one too; I’ve kept both of yours well.”
“Thanks, Mom! Hahaha…”
Purple Summers laughed until she hiccupped, and seeing Alexander standing still with a face as dark as iron, she took the toys from his hands, giggling, “I’ll help Mom pack!”
Actually, she just wanted to find more amusing relics of his childhood.
Alexander, helpless, received a phone call by chance, and he went upstairs to talk, leaving Purple Summers to her amusement.
Indeed, Purple Summers found quite a few “treasures”, such as photos of Alexander when he was just a few months old lying bare-bottomed, and one of him three or four years old, crying while laying in Atra Blanc’s arms.
“Mom, have you practiced some kind of youth-preserving technique? How come you look no different from twenty years ago!” Purple Summers was astounded, thinking it’s no wonder Mrs. Summers like to bother Atra Blanc; one is aging gracelessly while the other becomes more youthful as time passes – who wouldn’t be vexed by that?
Atra Blanc laughed and patted Purple Summers’s back, “You child, was your mom so old twenty years ago?”
She was so chocked up that she couldn’t speak.
While sorting through old photos, Purple Summers came across a few of Atra Blanc and Old Master Summers together.
In the bottom right corner of the photo, there was a date, calculating the time, Atra Blanc was only twenty years old when the photo was taken, while Old Master Summers was already fifty-six.
Although there was a significant age difference between the two, strangely, they didn’t look out of place standing together, probably because men don’t show their age easily. Old Master Summers was handsome; even though he was older, he didn’t have an elderly air, but rather the subdued profundity of a mature man.
His beard was trimmed neatly, he wore a grey plaid vest over a white shirt, and half of a gold chain with a pocket watch hung over his chest, and beside him stood an exceptionally beautiful woman – he was indeed elegance personified.