Chapter 196 - 195: Master, You Are Suited for the New Era

Chapter 196: Chapter 195: Master, You Are Suited for the New Era

"For the research results sold in Veridia, we’re only taking a ten percent margin above the cost price. Don’t scold me, old man. Such a big company has so many mouths to feed.

"Old man, everything you once taught Rian Sinclair, she will strive to accomplish. The dark days of your past will never return, and from now on, Veridia will only get better and better.

"Old man, I met your family.

"It was your younger brother. He looks so much like you. For a fleeting moment, I actually thought my old man had come back, but it wasn’t you.

"He isn’t my old man.

"Despite a seventy-percent resemblance, he still isn’t you. The two of you are completely different.

"Master, you never once brought up your family, yet everything you said was intrinsically linked to them. Back then, I used to wonder what kind of family could wait decades without ever coming to visit you.

"But no matter what I said, Master, you would always just laugh it off. Yet afterward, you would hold that box and stare at it for the longest time. You missed your family too, didn’t you, old man?

"Don’t you hate them, old man?"

Rian Sinclair looked at the small mound of dirt before her. Such a tall, broad-shouldered man, yet his final resting place was buried in this desolate, uninhabited place.

She drank the tea her old man used to love, sip by sip in silence, soundlessly expressing her longing for him.

Recalling everything from the past, she just didn’t know if the old man had hated them in his dying moments.

Though she already knew the answer in her heart, Rian was still unwilling to believe it.

Over forty years!

He had been so young once, yet he was trapped in Sinclair Village for over forty years. How many forty-year stretches could a person have in one lifetime?

During those forty years, was the old man disappointed in the Sinclair family? They could have brought him back long ago, yet they chose not to. She thought to herself that his family had probably forgotten him ages ago.

"Master, I told your brother about what happened to you, but he was far too slow to realize the truth. Doesn’t he know he’s already old? What else is there that he can’t let go of?

"Master, I first learned about you from the old gentleman, and then I understood more about you from your brother. Master, you were far too outstanding.

"I remember you once said that truly outstanding people naturally have many venomous snakes lurking in the dark, watching them closely, ready to strike viciously when their guard is down and take a brutal bite out of their flesh.

"Why did you have to suffer so much unequal treatment in your era? Shouldn’t talent trump everything else?"

Rian truly didn’t understand. In that era, was it a sin to be talented? Was it a sin to dare to speak up?

Talent wasn’t wrong, and Julian Sinclair wasn’t wrong either. The people who passed away during that era weren’t wrong; the only thing wrong was the era itself.

"Master, the tea plants are growing very well this year too, but you can no longer come back to brew tea under the pavilion.

"Veridia is doing very well now. Although there are still some areas where we haven’t caught up to other countries, and some research is still bottlenecked, we will slowly bridge the gap.

"Master, the current golden age is exactly as you described in your youth—prosperous, strong, democratic, and thriving.

"Master, once I finish all the work I have on hand, I will return to Sinclair Village to drink tea and chat with you every day. Just don’t complain that I’m too noisy when the time comes.

"Master, Ria misses you."

Rian stared blankly at the small dirt mound before her. No longer suppressing her emotions, she looked at him in silence as tears quietly slipped down her cheeks.

The chirping of birds rang out from the nearby woods, and the faint sound of dogs barking could be heard in the distance. A gentle breeze swept past, causing the overlapping blades of grass to brush against one another with a soft RUSTLE.

The sky was gloomy. The wind chased the rain, and the rain drove the wind; together, the wind and rain rallied to herd the dark clouds across the sky. Gradually, a light drizzle began to fall.

Rian’s clothes grew damp. As the water streamed down her face, it was impossible to tell whether it was tears or rain.

"Master, are your knees hurting again?"

Rian looked at the small mound before her. Her old man used to hate rainy days; whenever it rained, his kneecaps would ache terribly.

He had suffered from that pain for decades. She had no idea how that endearing old man had managed to endure it all.

She had only discovered this secret shortly after she had returned to her master’s side. Unable to sleep one night, she had stumbled upon it completely by accident.

But when she saw her master enduring the agony while insisting it didn’t hurt, what had Rian been thinking back then?

Even she couldn’t clearly remember anymore.

"Master, in your next life, don’t be born in that era again. That era didn’t suit you; you belong in the new era.

"Your little disciple has a friend who said that you will have a safe and smooth journey in your next life. I also believe that you will undoubtedly live a life of peace and prosperity, Master.

"Old man, will I still be able to meet you in my next life?"

But Rian would never hear the old man’s scolding again. The old man of her past could never come back.

The furnishings inside the house were exactly the same as she remembered, but after a year of vacancy, the place lacked any trace of human warmth. The moment she pushed the door open, a thick layer of accumulated dust swirled and danced in the air.

It was a familiar setup, but in the end, it was missing a person.

The old man’s tile-roofed house was situated at the peak of the mountain in Sinclair Village. Back then, she had thought of him as an enlightened sage secluded from the rest of the world.

But thinking about it now, people like him had been universally condemned by the villagers during that era. Because of that, the old man had moved up into the mountains, isolating himself from the people of Sinclair Village.

Now, the tile-roofed house was obscured by overgrown weeds and shrouded by trees, making the originally inconspicuous dwelling even harder to spot.

Rian lit incense for her master. It was getting late, and she had just finished cleaning the inside of the house.

Her clothes, which had been completely soaked, had slowly started to dry. They were now in an uncomfortably damp state, and having her hair wet from the rain felt quite miserable as well.

After the rain, the path down the mountain would be muddy and treacherous to navigate, so Rian decided to just sleep in the tile-roofed house for the night.

It was still raining, and the temperature seemed to be dropping. The lingering ambient heat had slowly been washed away by the downpour.

Puddles of water accumulated on the tiled roof and slid down over the eaves. The tall, thriving weeds around the house were bowed under the weight of the rain, drops of moisture dripping from their tips one by one to seep into the soil.

The fresh scent of green grass mingled with the dampness of the rain in the air, while the sky remained a hazy gray.

Night gradually fell.

The chill of the rainy night could already be felt. Looking out at the distant, mist-shrouded mountains, she recognized the peaks where she used to gather medicinal herbs as a child.

The house had no electricity, so she had to light a fire in the stove just to boil water.

Just like when she was little, Rian pulled off the well cover and hoisted up bucket after bucket of water.

The well water tonight was piercingly cold. Getting the stove fire going to boil such a large cauldron of water took quite a bit of effort and time.

By the time the hot water was ready, an hour and a half had passed.

She took fresh clothes from her backpack, took a bath, and changed out of her dirty, damp garments.

Now in dry clothes, she had no hairdryer, so she could only patiently towel-dry her hair over and over. The night breeze was a bit chilly. She took out a brazier, burned some charcoal inside, and set it by the door to warm herself and use the heat to dry her still-damp hair.

When she was little, her master had always done this for her. Later on, when Rian learned how to do it, she began handling it herself. Every time, the old man would smile and say:

"Our Rian has grown up. You don’t need this old man anymore."