On the way here, Alia Garcia imagined what the founder of the Mandrake Myth might look like.
Surely a person with a strong presence, a face commanding respect without anger.
However, the person she saw now wasn’t quite what she had imagined.
By age and seniority, Chairman Smith should be over fifty-five no matter what.
Yet the person sitting in the pavilion looked at most in his early forties.
With jet-black hair, bright eyes, and a straight posture like a towering pine, apart from slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, there was no hint of greasiness or age in his appearance or deanor.
His features were handso, a dignified and righteous kind of handso, different from the suave handsoness of Christopher Hart and Charles Smith.
Moreover, the aura he exuded, refined by the passage of years, and his calmness, were sothing young people like Christopher Hart did not possess.
Though Alia wasn’t usually one for gossip, seeing Chairman Smith in person, she suddenly understood Snow Fitch’s awe-stricken and srized feelings whenever she saw a handso guy.
However, her feelings towards this Chairman Smith were completely of admiration and respect, without any chaotic emotions.
—After all, he’s old enough to be her father.
Uncle Mason, the boss of the private kitchen, was also here.
Seeing the main person appear, and noticing his old partner looking as if he’d lost his soul at the sight of the young lady, he let out a tactical cough.
"Ahem—"
Alia quickly ca back to her senses, realizing her faux pas, her cheeks unwillingly reddening with heat.
Charles Smith had already approached her side, but seeing her stare blankly at his father, he hesitated to interrupt.
Now seeing her snap back to reality, he waved his hand: "This is my father, Thomas Smith. The courtyard purchase is his decision; I’m just running errands."
Alia politely nodded: "Hello, Mr. Smith."
Thomas Smith’s life was extrely legendary; he had seen all sorts of waves and t all kinds of elegant ladies, yet never had he been as absentminded and uncomposed as this mont.
Looking at the young and beautiful girl in front of him, her every move and expression aligned closely with a face buried deep in his mories.
He thought ti had rewound.
He thought his Chloe was still alive, walking towards him.
But a "Hello, Mr. Smith" shattered his illusion.
The beauty before him was ultimately not his past Chloe.
"Dad!" Charles Smith softly reminded his father, seeing him lost in gaze.
Thomas Smith snapped back as if awakened from a dream, and in an instant, all the emotions on his face vanished.
"Hello." Thomas Smith still gazed at Alia, but his eyes were more restrained, controlling the surging complex emotions.
"Have a seat, child." He gestured, talking as if Alia wasn’t a stranger, but rather the younger generation from a family, conveying an air of warmth and affection.
Hearing this "child," and recalling Chairman Smith’s earlier slip, Alia beca more convinced of a unique relationship between him and her late mother.
If her mother had once loved such a refined and gentle man, it would have brought fewer regrets to her life.
Yet, if they loved, why didn’t they end up together?
This Chairman Smith, compared to the imprisoned Michael Garcia—if one had to compare, the latter wasn’t even worthy to hold a candle.
Despite being Michael Garcia’s biological daughter, she had no hesitations about this.
"Please sit, Miss Norton." Charles Smith pulled out a wicker chair, reminding her again.
Boss Mason standing by laughed and said, "Alright, you chat slowly. I’ll go prepare tonight’s ingredients."
Alia was about to stand up to see him off, but Boss Mason stopped her, "Sit, sit, don’t be so polite."
Thomas Smith watched Alia, gave her another look over, then finally said, "You look a lot like your mother when she was young, but your mother wasn’t as assertive as you are."
Since he brought up her deceased mother, Alia was unreserved, turning to Thomas Smith with directness: "Mr. Smith, were you very familiar with my mother? What... was your relationship?"
Charles Smith finished brewing the tea, placed it in front of Alia, refilled his father’s cup, and quietly sat aside.
Thomas Smith looked at the bubbling tea, contemplating whether to speak the truth.
After a brief silence, he finally said, "Your mother and I... we were indeed more than friends, we were in love."
Indeed!
Hearing this answer, Alia wasn’t surprised.
"Then why... did you separate?"
Thomas Smith took a sip of tea and, after placing the cup down, said, "We didn’t separate."
Seeing Alia’s surprise and questioning eyes, he clarified: "We didn’t separate. I had a duty that forced to leave. By the ti I returned years later, she was married, and you had been born."
"What do you an? Are you saying my mother abandoned you?"
"I wouldn’t put it that way. After all, anyone would wonder if I had passed on, given the lengthy lack of contact. When I returned, I was actually rather scared to face your mother, afraid she had waited and wasted her youth on . Seeing she married well and beca a rich housewife, I felt so consolation."
Alia’s face was still troubled, as if not understanding, or doubting these explanations.
Thomas Smith understood her feelings and smiled, "These are old stories, brought up by chance. Rest assured, I don’t bla your mother, or I wouldn’t be thinking of buying that little courtyard. You’re Chloe’s daughter, her only daughter. In the future... you can consider a distant uncle, and you can co to with any troubles or questions anyti."
Alia’s mind was a bit blurred.
She indeed had troubles currently and wanted his help.
But before resolving the confusions in her heart, she couldn’t just ask for it directly.
"Chairman Smith, may I ask, have you always had my mother in your heart?"
"Child, you can call Uncle Smith, as I said, consider a distant uncle. Regarding your question, I can answer clearly, yes, I have kept your mother in my heart, but I never expected she had passed away so many years ago."
Alia’s expression shifted, her tone a bit more agitated, "If you always kept her in your heart, why did you only co now? Since you returned back then, why didn’t you look for my mother? She didn’t have a good life in that household, so much so that she fell sick at such a young age..."
In actuality, Alia had just a vague mory of her mother, Chloe Norton.
But she always clearly rembered her mother in the hospital, near the end of life, in daily agony and despair...
Seeing her suddenly emotional, tears welling up, Thomas Smith’s heart ached as he furrowed his brow, "Yes... I should have co sooner, but... I had my own family, and before I beca single again, I couldn’t betray my family."
Seeing Alia like this, Charles Smith quickly handed her a tissue, unable to hold back explaining: "My mom divorced my dad last year. After he beca single again, he soon ca to River City, visited the Ancient Town several tis, too."
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