Chapter 504: Too Thick-Skinned

Chapter 504: Chapter 504: Too Thick-Skinned

Yes, that had to be it. How could Estelle Lockwood possibly know the manager of Veridian Retreat? And there was no way the restaurant would ever treat her as an honored guest. She must have hired an actor to fool everyone!

Old Mrs. Yeats grew more fired up as she spoke. "I knew a little bastard like you would be up to no good! To think you’d even deceive your elders. I bet you..."

"Old Mrs. Yeats, are you saying I’m a fraud hired by Miss Lockwood?" the manager scoffed lightly. "The Head of the Yeats knows my identity. Mr. Yeats, your mother is severely misunderstanding the situation. Aren’t you going to explain?"

Zion Yeats’s face turned beet red. Flustered, he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. "Mom... Please, stop making a scene. He really is the manager of Veridian Retreat..."

Old Mrs. Yeats choked on her words.

"T-Then Veridian Retreat is targeting me on purpose!" she squawked, continuing her tantrum.

"Old Mrs. Yeats, we run an honest business. Unless absolutely necessary, we would never bar a customer from entering." The manager’s face darkened. "Rather than making a scene here, you’d be better off asking your Miss Claire what she did."

The implication was clear to everyone present—the one who had offended Veridian Retreat was Claire Yeats!

Old Mrs. Yeats retorted without a second thought. "Claire is pure and kind! How could she possibly offend anyone? I bet you’ve all been bribed by Estelle..."

"M-Mother!" Noticing the blatant contempt in the eyes of the onlookers, Zion felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head.

As the Head of the Yeats, he was used to being flattered and curried favor with. This was the very first time he had been subjected to such collective, mocking disdain!

"Estelle," Zion began, trying to appeal to her emotions. "We were wrong to misunderstand you. But your grandmother was just anxious. She was worried you’d do something wrong and leave a bad impression, so... so... you’re the younger generation. Can’t you just be a little understanding? Making such an ugly scene will only make people think you’re ungrateful!

"My mother is your elder. She has eaten more salt than you’ve eaten rice. There’s always a reason behind her actions, so you can’t be this willful!"

Zion furrowed his brows as he spoke, looking for all the world as if he had Estelle’s best interests at heart.

And in his mind, he truly believed he did.

Old Mrs. Yeats was an elder, and could an elder’s mistake really be called a mistake? Even if she was in the wrong, as the younger generation, Estelle should have handled it gracefully by taking the blame herself. Keeping up a harmonious front was what made a loving family.

But instead, not only did Estelle refuse to give them face, she even exposed the fact that Claire was the one who had offended the restaurant, bringing shame upon the Yeats family!

Nathaniel Sloan’s tone was entirely unruffled, yet it carried an undeniable oppressive weight. "Misunderstanding Estelle, insulting her, and then brushing it all off with a simple ’she’s an elder’—the Head of the Yeats is truly considerate of his mother. However, you got one thing wrong. If she were an elder of her own family, it wouldn’t hurt for Estelle to take a step back. But..."

Nathaniel chuckled softly. "Old Mrs. Yeats has already declared that she’s cutting ties with Estelle.

"Since she isn’t an elder of her own family, why should Estelle yield?

"Claire was the one who offended them, yet Estelle was made the scapegoat. Instead of confronting Claire about her actions, you came here to trouble Estelle, only to cap it off by saying, ’she’s an elder’..."

The onlookers burst into mocking laughter. "Mr. Sloan, don’t waste your breath on them. You can’t reason with someone like the Head of the Yeats."

"Yeah, I’d heard that the Head of the Yeats was decisive and ruthless, but seeing him today, he’s clearly just a fifty-something-year-old man-child and a mama’s boy! The moment his mother raises her voice, he completely loses it. How on earth did the Yeats family manage to establish a foothold in high society with a Head like him?"

"Well, his son Quentin Yeats is the truly capable one. It’s just a shame that the Yeats don’t like Quentin. They prefer Claire, who offends people wherever she goes, and Evan Yeats, who steals relics left behind by other people’s fathers..."

"What kind of elder is that? You think you’re so great just because you’ve lived a few more decades? I’m so sick of people throwing their weight around as elders, saying stuff like ’I’ve eaten more salt than you’ve eaten rice.’ Wow, good for you. It’s a miracle you haven’t died of sodium poisoning."

Zion’s cheeks burned under the relentless mockery. He looked utterly spineless, as if he might faint at any moment.

Old Mrs. Yeats glared at Estelle, as though trying to burn a hole right through her.

She couldn’t leave.

She had come with Old Mrs. Rhodes today. If she were chased away now, where would she put her face?!

For years, she had maintained her status as the top dog in her circle of socialite "sisters." She needed everyone to suck up to her, and she absolutely could not afford to lose face in front of her friends!

Naturally, Old Mrs. Rhodes could tell exactly what she was thinking and curled her lip in disdain.

Zion wasn’t the only man-child here; she reckoned Old Mrs. Yeats was a giant baby in her own right.

She had to compete over everything, refused to admit her mistakes, and endlessly spoiled that useless Claire. Whenever anyone pointed out her errors, Old Mrs. Yeats would fix them with a sinister, wide-eyed glare... What was wrong with her?

Seeing that Old Mrs. Yeats was about to speak again, Old Mrs. Rhodes silently took a step back.

Old Mrs. Yeats knew the crowd was looking down on her, but so what? She was getting into Veridian Retreat today no matter what!

"Estelle Lockwood! Since you’re an honored guest of Veridian Retreat, I order you to give your table to me!"

With that, she turned to the manager with a haughty expression, entirely unbothered by the sheer audacity of her demand. "I like Northern cuisine. Go prepare a table of Northern dishes for me."

The onlookers were dumbfounded.

Perhaps too shocked by Old Mrs. Yeats’s shamelessness, the crowd fell into a stunned silence.

Estelle hadn’t expected Old Mrs. Yeats to be quite this brazen either. She looked at Old Mrs. Yeats, then at Zion, her gaze sweeping them up and down.

"Give my table... to you?"

Old Mrs. Yeats didn’t think there was anything wrong with her demand at all. She scoffed coldly, looking down her nose at the girl. "I am your elder! Respecting your elders is exactly what you should do!"

"I wonder what kind of skincare products Old Mrs. Yeats uses to have such thick skin." Estelle slowly delivered the punchline, "It’s thick enough to build a city wall."

"Pfft." Someone in the crowd snickered.

Wasn’t she a little too thick-skinned? How could she even utter such words with a straight face?

"Estelle Lockwood!" Old Mrs. Yeats’s expression twisted fiercely.

"Mr. Yeats, are you just going to stand there and watch Old Mrs. Yeats embarrass herself like this?" a bystander mocked. "Those in the know understand that you two are the Head of the Yeats and Old Mrs. Yeats. Those who don’t might mistake you for a pair of beggars."

"Exactly! How could you have the gall to steal someone else’s table after offending them?"

"Oh look, Old Mrs. Yeats is glaring at people again. This isn’t Capital City, you know. This is Crestfall. The Yeats family hasn’t even shifted its center of operations to Crestfall yet. Are you sure you want to throw your weight around here?"

"No wonder she likes Claire so much. Claire is exactly the same—she stole someone else’s work, refused to admit it, and blamed it all on Estelle..."

"Are you angry? Already angry?"

Old Mrs. Yeats trembled with rage, her shaking finger pointing at the speakers. "Y-You people..."

"My old friend, let’s just go," Old Mrs. Rhodes said mildly. "If you really want to get in, have Claire come over and apologize."