Julian Campbell finished speaking, only to realize his little uncle and aunt were sitting in the room, which startled him into a daze.
Why were his little uncle and aunt here?
Could it be that he entered the room in the wrong way today?
"I." Charles Seymour suddenly blurted out a word, leaving Julian perplexed as he looked at him. What did his little uncle mean by that word?
Charles looked at the bewildered Julian and kindly explained, "Grandma wants to break my leg, so... would you like to help?"
Julian’s legs went weak, and he flopped to the ground in a close encounter with the floor.
"This kid!" Old Mrs. Seymour was startled, "What’s going on?"
Julian propped himself up with a nearby chair, looking pitiful as he complained, "Old lady, my little uncle scared me." Read full story at 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩·𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖·𝘯𝘦𝘵
Old Mrs. Seymour realized what the two were playing at and playfully chided, "How old are you both, still being so naughty?"
Julian silently turned his head, imagining a little version of himself biting on a handkerchief and whimpering.
Sure enough, the old lady loved his little uncle the most. Even after he got scared by his little uncle, she dismissed it as just mischief. Of course, he wasn’t favored, sob sob sob...
"Alright, let’s go eat," Old Mr. Seymour chuckled as he watched the youngsters fool around, then turned to see the butler approaching to call them for dinner, and he spoke up first.
"Okay." Julian happily went over and supported Old Mr. Seymour.
Old Mrs. Seymour beamed as Sophie Wilson came over to help her, feeling extremely satisfied with this choice of granddaughter-in-law.
After Sophie Wilson sat down, she discovered that all the dishes on the table were her favorites. She was a bit surprised but thought they really shared a bond with the Seymour Family, even their tastes in food were similar.
"Yesterday, this brat made a special call to tell us what you love to eat. The family chef prepared these; I don’t know if they suit your taste, Sophie. If there’s anything else you want to eat, tell Grandma, and she’ll have the chef make it for you," Old Mrs. Seymour’s words were full of protection for Charles, letting Sophie know how attentive Charles was to her.
This kind of wonderful grandma made Sophie genuinely like her, and she smiled, saying, "Grandma, I can really eat anything."
"How could that be?" Old Mrs. Seymour shook her head, "You’re part of our family. Whatever you like to eat, that’s what we’ll have."
"Old lady, is anyone else coming today?" Julian curiously asked, noticing the abundance of dishes on the table, far too much for just the five of them.
He came over today on a whim; could the old lady and old man have invited others too?
"No," Old Mrs. Seymour replied with a smile, "it’s just our family. We didn’t expect you to suddenly come over."
Looking at the table loaded with food, Julian suddenly thought of something and asked in shock, "Old lady, could it be that when my little uncle told you what my aunt liked to eat, you had the chef make it all?"
"How could that be possible?" Old Mrs. Seymour snorted.
Julian secretly breathed a sigh of relief, he was scared to death; he knew it—it couldn’t be.
With the enthusiasm his little uncle has towards his aunt, the dishes reported would easily exceed a hundred. If they made all of them, well, their family could hold a banquet today.
"I just had the chef choose those that didn’t have the same flavors. The repeat ones, we’ll make next time," Old Mrs. Seymour’s words nearly made Julian’s jaw drop onto the table, leaving a dent.
He vaguely saw his aunt’s status skyrocketing, as if propelled by a rocket, soaring high and higher.