But in one day, I heard from Gordon boasting once, twice, three, four, five, six, seven, eight tis that he was going to treat a fan to dinner today.
And each ti he specially emphasized: "It’s my loyal fan, not The Jilted’s."
Gordon’s seriousness made Sean Lowell unable to ignore the fact that Gordo was inviting a girl to dinner for the first ti.
Back in school days, Gordo, the friend of maidens, had always been a bit tight on cash.
Most of the girls who sought him out did so to accentuate their own beauty.
So whether it was for als or milk tea, Gordon never took the initiative to pay the bill.
When Gordo was short on money, he was all about money and a bit stingy.
Even after getting money, this habit didn’t change much.
In Sean Lowell’s mory, a girl whom Gordon hadn’t even t yet itching to treat her to dinner was sothing that had never happened before.
Sean himself was still tied up with unresolved issues.
Perhaps if he couldn’t find his mother, Sean could never let go of the past.
Perhaps if he couldn’t find his sister, couldn’t find the light that illuminates his heart, Sean could never truly own his happiness.
But Sean had no reason not to wish for Gordon to find his own happiness soon.
For the past five years, from age 21 to 26, while Gordo was joking and laughing in front of caras, he had already reached an age where he should be having a proper romantic relationship.
Since he watched the live broadcast, Sean must have also heard the story that Catherine Morgan imagined, using the brain of the whiskey that mistakenly entered the live stream.
Slandering The Jilted’s mother, who in her vibrant years married a seventy-year-old disabled person.
Originally, Sean should have been angry hearing this, as who could accept soone saying such things about their mother?
This is also why Gordon was later a bit displeased with Catherine Morgan.
But Sean wasn’t angry.
Indeed, he didn’t ntion Brunswick Whiskey, as Gordon put it, it was entrusted to him.
And it was indeed Gordon who first placed it in the live stream before Sean.
But was this whiskey really as Gordon said, all imagined by Catherine Morgan?
The answer in Sean’s heart was no.
Catherine Morgan’s reasoning set off a great storm in Sean’s heart.
He recalled the first ti he saw Sumr Fairmont.
At that ti, he was burning with a high fever, already a bit delirious, yet he was certain that the Sumr Fairmont who appeared before him was his sister, Sumr Lowell.
He recalled the first ti Literature’s mother, Talia Tate, saw him, saying he and Sumr Fairmont were cut from the sa mold.
Mysteriously, there were too many things linking him and Sumr Fairmont together.
Because of the initial "car accident scene," because Artie explained that Diwu was just a phonetic translation and not a real surna.
Sean forced himself to suppress all his intuitions.
No hope, no disappointnt.
In this regard, he understood better than anyone else.
But, Sumr Fairmont and Catherine Morgan, two girls with no intersection, brought two identical bottles of whiskey to the sa city at the sa ti.
Isn’t this enough to prove it’s all divine guidance?
After classifying all his premonitions, after knowing that Brunswick Whiskey was nad after a family surna, after knowing that Sumr Fairmont had a different surna from the inheritors of this whiskey family.
Sean could almost confirm that Sumr Fairmont was indeed his sister, Sumr Lowell.
He now only needed to confirm whether the woman rumored to have married into the Brunswick family from Asia carried the surna Diwu.
On the way back to Elder Ford’s cellar, Sean asked Gordon for a favor: "Could you trouble yourself to ask Catherine Morgan if her father ever heard of a woman with great talent in winemaking from Asia nineteen years ago, who was planning to reopen the Brunschwig Distillery? Even if there’s no full na, just the surna would do."
"You’ve already broken your fever, but is your brain still stuck in the stear? You still haven’t given up?"
"Of course, I haven’t given up. And now I’m very sure I was wrong to give up before. If Brunswick is indeed the surna of Sumr Fairmont’s late father last month, then Diwu in her na must be her mother’s surna. Since the Winters Ambassador says Diwu is a phonetic translation, why can’t it be Diwu then? How can there be so many coincidences in this world?"
"If you’re so sure, why not just go recognize your kin? So, you’re going back to Elder Ford to do what?"
"To say goodbye. I need to make a trip to Scotland, and you should help get a visa as soon as possible."
"Is there sothing wrong with your head? Everyone’s here, and you want to run off to Scotland?" Sean quickly made a decision.
He wanted to go to Scotland, he wanted to go to Islay, he wanted to go to Brunschwig Distillery.
He wanted to know what happened nineteen years ago.
Did his mother really marry an elderly man near seventy nineteen years ago?
And why couldn’t the Brunschwig Distillery reopen nineteen years ago?
Too many mysteries seed only to be unraveled on Islay and at Brunschwig Distillery.
"I did think about rushing to Mr. Vaughn’s house and telling her she was Sumr Lowell, my sister. I’ve looked for my sister for so many years, and now I’ve finally found her. I even put on my shoes." Sean couldn’t have resisted the urge to recognize his kin with Sumr Lowell directly if he had Literature’s phone number at the ti.
But Sean quickly cald himself down: "I can’t be in a hurry to reconcile at this ti, I don’t want to scare Sumr again."
"You keep harping on about Sumr. You’re just heading off to Scotland, what about Elder Ford? Elder Ford is ninety this year, and you’re just leaving like that?"
"I just want to see where Sumr grew up. I’ll have a look and then co back." Sean never thought of leaving for good: "Did you know? If every single thing Catherine Morgan said is true, then my sister must have had an even darker childhood than mine. I naively thought she must have had a better life than I did. I’ve even been jealous and complained more than once."
Sean agitatedly patted Gordo’s shoulder: "Gordon! I’m going to Scotland! I want to know what really happened to Sumr! Why Sumr is of this character now! Why does Sumr have no mory of !"
After the agitation subsided, Sean withdrew his hand from Gordon’s shoulder.
Outside the window, the traffic thinned, the neon lights dimd, and facing a distant undefined horizon, Sean softly spoke the words weighing on his heart——
"In the days to co, I’ll protect her."
Reviews
All reviews (0)