On Friday afternoon, after Elias Langley finished explaining his business, Juliana Jacobs set off with him to Quellmont Manor.
The Sinclairs used a business car, while Tyler Hughes had to work overti and thus didn’t go.
The two families finally t at the lobby of Quellmont Manor.
Strictly speaking, Juliana Jacobs and Elias Langley arrived first, and the two were handling check-in procedures when Sebastian Sinclair and his group also arrived.
From afar, Old Mr. Sinclair imdiately recognized Juliana’s silhouette.
He snorted a breath from his large, ox-like nostrils, "Isn’t this supposed to be a top private manor? How can they let any old riffraff in?"
Sebastian Sinclair glanced at him, did not refute, but instead went along, saying, "Indeed, you see, among the people coming and going, there are quite a few with out-of-town accents. Sigh..."
He deliberately sighed lightly.
"I bet the depth and style of Kingsford still need ’pure-blooded’ natives like you, born and bred, to maintain and oversee."
Mrs. Sinclair was surprised when she heard this and looked at him.
She was well aware that her husband never had regional biases, but she didn’t know why he would go along with Old Mr. Sinclair today and say such things.
And indeed, his words had the weight of "praise and kill."
Old Mr. Sinclair felt an imnse sense of responsibility to maintain the "purity of Kingsford," filled with pride and confidence, and rushed aggressively towards Juliana’s direction, supported by his cane.
Juliana had just received the room card when she heard Old Mr. Sinclair’s voice behind her.
"Juliana, you murderer who cost my granddaughter her life, what right do you have to be here?"
His voice was loud, drawing the attention of passersby and people resting in the lobby.
Elias Langley pulled Juliana beside him.
Not stepping forward to defend her, because Sebastian Sinclair was there, and his indulgence of Old Mr. Sinclair’s behavior naturally had his own purpose.
He only needed to prevent Old Mr. Sinclair from laying a hand on Juliana.
Juliana looked puzzled, "Quellmont Manor opens its doors for business, and as long as you’re a law-abiding citizen, you’re welco. I’m curious, according to your definition of ’qualification,’ does it depend on age or the extent of... nonsensical behavior?"
Old Mr. Sinclair paused at her words, pointing at her nose, "Don’t be arrogant, Isabelle’s spirit will bless with health and longevity, allowing to witness your downfall, troublemaker."
At this mont, a waiter stepped forward to diate.
Old Mr. Sinclair beca even angrier,
Imdiately, he pointed at the waiter’s nose, asking fiercely, "Who are you? What do you do here? Are you a native of Kingsford? If not, why are you here in our Kingsford? You’re such an ignorant thing, tainting the bloodline of Kingsford, consuming Kingsford’s resources, get out!"
A guest nearby couldn’t take it anymore, "Why is this old man talking like this? What’s wrong with people from other places?"
Old Mr. Sinclair was used to being high and mighty all his life, unable to tolerate being criticized by others, and was already flushed with anger.
"You poor outsiders, country pigs, can’t survive, coming to Kingsford to beg, you need to understand the situation, begging should look like begging, don’t be half-hearted with ."
A guest was extrely dissatisfied and thus dialed the police.
Mrs. Sinclair nudged Sebastian Sinclair’s arm, speaking softly, "Dad talking like this is too impolite, won’t you go persuade him?"
Sebastian Sinclair raised his brow, "You go if you’d like, I can’t afford such embarrassnt."
Mrs. Sinclair turned to look at Florence Sinclair, only to see the adopted daughter keeping her head down, closely leaning next to Sebastian’s wheelchair, obviously unwilling to persuade Old Mr. Sinclair either.
Naturally, Mrs. Sinclair wanted to save face too, instinctively taking two steps back.
Almost at the sa ti, Sebastian’s wheelchair also rolled slightly backwards.
Within 5 minutes, the police arrived.
Old Mr. Sinclair’s mouth was still blabbing away.
"Whose old man is this? Does he have so kind of ntal problem?" a policeman scanned the lobby and raised his voice to ask.
"Who are you calling ntally ill!"
Old Mr. Sinclair was furious and pushed the policeman with his hand.
The policeman reacted swiftly, imdiately gripping his wrist and deftly restraining him, his voice becoming more stern, "Please cooperate with law enforcent! Whose elderly mber is this after all?"
The Sinclairs all turned their faces away, with no one responding.
Old Mr. Sinclair beca even angrier, but was held firmly by the police, unable to move.
"I’m over seventy years old, I’m exempt under the law! My grandson-in-law is Liang..."
"Don’t shout ’mom’!" Juliana interrupted him before he could say Elias Langley’s na, "Assaulting a policeman is a serious cri, shouting ’dad’ would be useless for you!"
"Your Isabelle is filial, now she’ll bless you with a free police car ride for attacking a policeman, as we all witnessed, and you’re looking at at least ten days," Juliana said.
Old Mr. Sinclair was imdiately choked by her words.
The policeman said sternly, "At the law’s front, everyone is equal, you need to co with us. Please comply!"
With that, they lifted the vigorous Old Mr. Sinclair onto the police car.
Sebastian Sinclair turned to the driver who had accompanied them, "The old man is likely to be detained for a while this ti, go deliver the luggage he packed for himself to the police station."
The driver quickly went to do it.
Elias Langley carried the luggage with one hand and held Juliana by the shoulder with the other, about to go to their room.
Mrs. Sinclair saw this and stepped forward, asking warmly, "Elias, which room are you staying in? Sebastian booked three suites, but only one has a hot spring."
No sooner had she spoken than Florence Sinclair imdiately stepped forward, looking at the room card in Juliana’s hand marked with the hot spring emblem, saying, "Children should be filial, of course, the room with the hot spring should be for the parents."
She behaved cleverly and showed off her filial piety, while quietly putting Juliana in a difficult spot.
Mrs. Sinclair laughed briefly, just about to smooth things over by saying, "It’s okay to let the young couple stay there," but Juliana icily said, "Save the big words and have Miss Sinclair learn them herself, we upgraded this room ourselves, how we occupy it has nothing to do with you."
Florence Sinclair’s smile froze instantly, almost blurting out, "The hot spring suites here are always in high demand, requiring early reservation to be booked, there were none available when dad booked, he only got one through connections, how could you possibly upgrade on the spot?"
Juliana’s lips curled into a very faint mockery, her gaze sweeping to Elias Langley beside her, with a touch of naturally proud tone in her voice.
"If my husband’s face isn’t useful in Kingsford, wouldn’t that an slapping the whole of Corinthium?"
Florence Sinclair stood there silent, like a clown.
"Mr. Sinclair, Juliana and I are going to drop off the luggage, let’s et at Vitaqua after dinner," Elias Langley said, then left with Juliana.
Eventually, Florence Sinclair was unsurprisingly given a regular suite without a hot spring.
But she did not care about this failed attempt.
As long as her good daughter persona remained, and Mrs. Sinclair continued to like her, she still had cards to play and opportunities to deal with Juliana.
Back in the room, she locked the door and stood before the dressing mirror, slowly removing her clothes.
In the mirror, the bruises from Juliana’s beatings had all but faded.
With Samuel Paxton arriving soon, she still had lots to do.
Soaking in the hot spring presented a chance to show evidence of bullying by Juliana, stir Mrs. Sinclair’s sympathy, and let Sebastian see Juliana’s true side, but at the mont, her body was too "perfect".
Then the doorbell rang, it was the waiter delivering dinner.
She opened the door, seeing a young male waiter standing outside, her eyes flashed with a glint.
"Madam, your herbal al is arranged, enjoy your al."
The male waiter set up the dinner for her and was about to leave, but Florence Sinclair stopped him.
She handed him 200 bucks.
"You co hit ."
The waiter, who had never heard such a request in his life, opened his eyes wide, "I can cut open a durian barehanded, you an it?"
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