Chapter 634 - 52: Dao Transformation Level 120%

Chapter 634: Chapter 52: Dao Transformation Level 120%

On her feet was a pair of fuzzy pink slippers. A bunny ear on one of them was askew, a clear sign she’d put them on in a rush.

"You’re thirty-six years old," Murphy said, placing a hand on her shoulder, his voice tinged with exasperation. "And you still act like a little girl."

Instead of letting go, Eleanor hugged him even tighter, burying her face in his chest and nuzzling against him. Her voice was muffled, yet held a playful pout.

"I *am* a little girl! I am! No matter how old I get, I’ll always be a little girl to my father!"

Murphy: "..."

He tried to pry her off, but Eleanor clung to him like an octopus.

"It’s been so long since you came to see me, and you won’t even let me have a hug?"

Eleanor looked up, her black eyes—identical to his—filled with accusation.

"The last time you visited was three months ago, and that was to see Mom. You only saw me as an afterthought! Are you actually here just for me this time?"

"Three months ago?"

Murphy paused. "I’m here specially for you."

Eleanor’s eyes instantly lit up, and her smile grew even more radiant.

But she didn’t let go. Instead, she tilted her head back to gaze up at him eagerly. "Really? You’re not tricking me?"

"Really."

"Then will you stay for dinner with me tonight?"

"...Yes."

"And will you talk with me for a long, long time?"

"...Yes."

"And will you grant me one little favor?"

Murphy looked down at her, raising an eyebrow slightly. "What favor?"

Eleanor blinked, a hint of cunning in her smile. "I haven’t decided yet. I’ll save it for later."

Murphy sighed in resignation and ruffled the top of her head. "All right, let go now. Let me come in and sit down."

Only then did Eleanor reluctantly release her grip, but she immediately looped her arm through his, leading him into the room.

"Here, here, sit here, Father," she said, guiding him onto a soft velvet sofa. She sat down beside him, still clinging to his arm. "What would you like to drink? Tea? Coffee? Or should I have dinner prepared?"

"No rush," Murphy said, looking at her. "I have a question for you."

"Oh?" Eleanor tilted her head.

Murphy asked, "Why didn’t you go to Mo Ling’s graduation ceremony?"

Eleanor froze. An unnatural expression flickered across her face as she lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously twisting the cuff of his sleeve.

"I... I was busy."

"What was it?"

Eleanor fell silent for a moment before saying softly, "I was busy promoting the Path of the Priest. A lot of places across the Continent still need coordinating, and I had several important meetings around that time..."

"Eleanor."

Murphy cut her off, his tone calm.

"Promoting the Path of the Priest is important, but is it more important than your own sister’s graduation?"

Eleanor pressed her lips together and said nothing.

Murphy watched her and continued, "That was the very first graduation ceremony. It was a momentous occasion. The first class of Priest Apprentices to complete their studies stood on that stage to receive their degrees. It was one of the most important moments of their lives. You’re the head of the Tower of Revelation. Was it right for you not to be there?"

The rims of Eleanor’s eyes reddened, but she stubbornly kept her head bowed.

"I... I just wanted to help you do a good job with everything."

Her voice was quiet, laced with a hint of grievance. "You’ve done so much, Father. You’ve given so many people better lives, given children from poor families the chance to learn to read and write, to change their fate. I just want to ensure your work continues, so that even more people can benefit."

Murphy was silent for a moment, then his tone softened.

"Look up."

Eleanor slowly lifted her head. Her black eyes, so like his, were brimming with tears she fought to hold back.

Watching her, Murphy suddenly reached out and gently wiped away a single tear trickling from the corner of her eye with the pad of his thumb.

"Silly child."

His voice grew gentle. "Do you really think the promotion of the Path of the Priest would grind to a halt just because you weren’t there?"

Eleanor pressed her lips together, silent.

Murphy continued, "Do you know what Mo Ling said to me at the ceremony?"

Eleanor shook her head.

"She said she would remember my words and become a person of use—of use to the Continent, to this land, to this nation, to the world, and to civilization."

Murphy looked at her. "She’s your sister. You should have been there to see that moment for yourself."

At last, Eleanor’s tears could no longer be contained and slid silently down her cheeks.

She bit her lower lip, struggling not to sob aloud.

Murphy sighed softly and pulled her into his arms.

"There, there," he said, patting her back. "You missed it this time, but there will be other opportunities. Mo Ling won’t hold it against you."

Eleanor buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled and thick with tears.

"I didn’t mean to miss it... I just... I just feel like you’ve done so much, Father, and I want to do something for you, too. I want more people to know what you’ve done. I want more people to have better lives, to have the chance to stand on a stage and receive their degrees just like those students..."

"All right," Murphy continued to pat her back gently, his voice soft. "Let’s not talk about it anymore. I won’t scold you."

Eleanor remained buried in his embrace, her shoulders still trembling slightly, but she made no sound.

Murphy glanced down at her and added, "Don’t cry."

Eleanor didn’t move, only burying her face even deeper into his chest.

Feeling helpless, Murphy paused for a moment, then whispered:

"Mo Yu."

The two words were spoken softly, yet they seemed to possess a special kind of magic.

Eleanor’s body stiffened slightly.

Then, she slowly lifted her head. She gazed at him through blurry, tear-filled eyes, but a flicker of inscrutable cunning flashed within their dark depths.

Murphy watched her, one eyebrow arching slightly.

"Done crying?"

Eleanor blinked, then suddenly burst out laughing.

Her smile, though still traced with tears, was as brilliant as the sunshine after a storm.

She raised a hand and roughly wiped her face with her sleeve. Then she tilted her head back and looked at him triumphantly.

"Not crying anymore."

Murphy stared at her for two seconds.

"You did that on purpose?"

Eleanor blinked, her expression a mask of innocence. "What on purpose?"

Murphy said nothing, merely watched her.

His stare made Eleanor feel guilty. She lowered her head and mumbled, "I... I wasn’t doing it on purpose... I just... I just wanted you to comfort me a little more..."

Murphy sighed.

He looked at his daughter—thirty-six years old, yet still with the appearance of a girl of fifteen or sixteen—and a complex mix of emotions welled up inside him.

Exasperation, affection, and a pang of heartache.

’Of course, he knew why Eleanor was like this.’

’Ever since she was a child, Margaret had been trapped in the Sanctuary Half-Plane, able to meet with her only through a puppet body.’

’Though their mother-daughter bond was deep, they could never be together day in and day out like a normal family.’

’All those times a mother should have been present, all the confusion and joy of a little girl’s life, all the moments that called for a mother’s gentle comfort... ’

’Eleanor had gone through most of it alone.’

’That was why she was so dependent on him.’

’That was why she resorted to these methods, trying to get a little more attention, a little more comfort.’

’Even at thirty-six, even as the head of the Tower of Revelation, even while presiding over the promotion of the Path of the Priest across the Continent—before him, she would always be that little girl who wheedled, played cute, and used her little tricks to get her way.’

Murphy reached out and gently ruffled her hair.

"Oh, you..."

His voice was tinged with exasperation, but moreso with doting affection.

Eleanor took the chance to bury her face in his chest again, nuzzling against him. Her voice was muffled, but laced with a smile.

"I knew you loved me best, Father."

Murphy said nothing, just continued to pat her gently on the back.

The room fell quiet, the only sound the faint whisper of the night wind outside the window.

After a moment, Murphy suddenly spoke.

"Right, where’s your mother?"

Eleanor’s movements hitched for a second.

She lifted her head from his chest and blinked, her expression turning a little strange.

"Mom, huh..."

She drew out the word, her gaze drifting toward the window. "Mom’s not home tonight."