Abigail Zimmerman glanced several times at the old master sitting on the sofa, hesitating to speak.
"Abigail, what are you bustling about in and out all the time?"
The old master shifted his gaze from the military channel on TV, his hands propped on a redwood cane in front of him.
The octogenarian’s face was ruddy, and he spoke with more vigor than younger people.
Abigail called out, stopping her chore, and walked over with a smile.
"If you have something to say, just say it. Sugar-coated bullets won’t work on me!" The old master glanced at Abigail, then turned his face back to the TV.
Abigail sat down on the sofa next to the old master, raised her hand to support his arm, and hesitated before saying, "Dad, today is the death anniversary of Little Nuò, I’d like George to drive me there..."
"If you want to go, just go. Why talk so much!" Samuel Zane cut off Abigail’s words before she could finish, his gaze still on the TV, his slightly furrowed brows looking very serious.
The old master could also be considered a founding patriarch, having joined his father on campaigns in the south and the north since childhood.
"Eh, Dad, then I’ll be going!" Seeing that the old master did not object, Abigail happily agreed, and before standing up added, "Dad, don’t tell George if he comes back, he’ll say I’m meddling if he finds out."
"Go on, go on, I won’t tell," Samuel Zane waved his hand impatiently.
"Thank you, Dad." Abigail said with a smile, yet didn’t make a move.
Samuel Zane rested his hands on the cane, pivoted his gaze, and even at eighty, he was as sharp as ever.
Abigail gave an embarrassed smile and tentatively began, "Dad, it’s been almost thirty years since Little Nuò passed away. Why can’t you forgive her? No matter what, she was your daughter. After all these years, you’ve never visited her grave..."
Samuel Zane’s expression turned serious upon Abigail’s words. The already authoritative old man became even more imposing and stern.
"Abigail, you’ve also been with the Zane Family for quite some time and know the events of that year very clearly. Little Nuò caused such a disaster, if it wasn’t for me begging around with a shameless face, do you think those people would have let her off!"
"Dad! If we’re talking about responsibility, Julian Zane must bear more than half of it. If it wasn’t for him, Little Nuò wouldn’t have gone around deceiving people with your authority,
Now Little Nuò is gone, and he’s living just fine, and even married that vixen. Seeing them living a comfortable life infuriates me! Why should they enjoy everything that Little Nuò paid for with her life!"
Every time Abigail brought up Julian Zane, she couldn’t contain her anger. If it weren’t for Little Nuò, he’d still be struggling at the bottom rungs of society!
Julian Zane, animated, tapped his cane continuously, "I’ve said before, that one shot, and from then on, all is written off!"
"But that year, you clearly could’ve taken his life with one shot, why did you ultimately go soft and deliberately let him off!"
Abigail knew very well about the old master’s marksmanship. Veterans who returned alive from battle each had true skills. If the old master hadn’t intentionally missed, Julian Zane would’ve met the King of Hell twenty-odd years ago and wouldn’t have lived to enjoy these blessings.
"Humph!" The old master snorted coldly, with an air of disdain, and turned his gaze back to the TV, "I am a soldier, I cannot break the law knowingly!"
"But they killed Little Nuò!"
Abigail’s face turned emotional, unable to stay calm at the thought of her young aunt’s premature death, "Talking about ineffective resuscitation, it’s obviously a lie..."
"Enough, I’ve said it! No one is to mention the events of that year ever again!" Before Abigail could finish, the old master’s booming voice interrupted her.
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