The car had driven away. Though Eddie wanted to get out and hug his sister, he realized that there was a bigger battle waiting for him up ahead. If he were to accidentally sacrifice himself during the rescue mission in Hurtlepool, why make Kate even more heartbroken?
Oh well…
When he returned, if he could come back alive, he would definitely reunite with Kate.
Wind Hall.
Inside and out had undergone a major transformation. Cheyenne turned the medicinal field into a garden filled with purple flowers. The old dilapidated houses underwent repairs. The furniture inside was inconveniently arranged but heating equipment was added so that students and staff wouldn’t freeze in the winter.
The wasteland behind the earthen room was cultivated into neat medicinal fields and vegetable gardens with mango trees planted on both sides of varying heights.
This renovation cost over one million dollars which Cheyenne paid for herself.
From the beginning of her appointment as hall master at Wind Hall until now when she has gone missing, everyone’s initial disbelief turned into concern due to Cheyenne’s care for them all.
Even though they lived in new houses with heaters blowing warm air around them, they were still unhappy; it felt like doomsday was approaching soon.
Yvonne hadn’t left her room for several days since she fell ill from self-blame and guilt over not stopping Cheyenne from going alone on her journey.
Outside Jay wore a bright red cotton jacket while his bald head shone under the cold weather making his cheeks turn red too; it made him look festive yet pitiful at the same time. His watery eyes were filled with worry as he held onto a large bowl of hot noodles which were emitting steam.
He couldn’t help but swallow his saliva, and his small hand, placed by the side of his pants, fidgeted as if he wanted to sneak a bite. However, he thought better of it and ultimately refrained.
Connor’s cooking smelled incredibly delicious, and he was tempted to sneak a taste, feeling a bit whiny about it. But no, this was for Yvonne who hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for two days. It wouldn’t be right to continue like this.
Jay sighed deeply like an understanding adult before saying softly. “Yvonne, if you don’t eat anything, how will you have enough energy to find our hall master?”
“And, if you don’t eat, your stomach will growl. Jay used to beg on the streets and knows how terrible it feels when one is hungry.”
Unfortunately, there was still no response from inside.
“Yvonne, beautiful lady, if you keep this up, you’ll become ugly.”
After waiting outside for a long time without hearing any response from inside, just as Jay was about to barge in to check things out, a black figure suddenly appeared beside him.
The man was extremely tall and his shadow cast over him like a small mountain.
“Uh…”
He lifted his little head and looked at the person in front of him with a pair of clean sparkling eyes. A timid voice sounded out. “Mister, who are you?”
The man ignored him and walked into the room on his own. His gaze swept over the room before finally settling on the woman lying on the bed.
She looked much thinner than before with her messy gray hair scattered behind her head. She wore a white long-sleeved nightgown that made her pale face look even more bloodless.
Yvonne stared blankly at the man who suddenly appeared above her head for a moment before taking a deep breath.
“You… you’re alive?”
It had been twenty-three years since she thought he had died. She never expected that he would still be alive after all these years.
Of course Channing knew Yvonne; she was seven years older than Selah and used to be Selah’s good friend when they were young. She must know some things that he didn’t know about Selah back then.
Later on their relationship grew distant because Yvonne fell in love with Selah’s father. As for Yvonne’s current miserable state of affairs, Channing felt sorry.
Selah died early; he was imprisoned for twenty years; Yvonne never married; Abel loved Selah but couldn’t have her. In short, none of them ended well…
“I came here just to ask where my daughter is,” Channing said coldly.
He knew?
Yvonne could no longer hide Selah’s secrets. She struggled to support herself with her hand against the bedpost, attempting to sit up. Unfortunately, two days of fasting had drained all her strength, leaving her with no energy.
As she was on the verge of falling, Channing stood there without any reaction, his voice cold and piercing as he questioned once again.
“I’m asking you again. Where is my Cheyenne?”
He indeed knew about Selah giving birth to their daughter. After their divorce, Selah discovered she was pregnant. Unfortunately, she had contracted the 079 virus, and fearing the risks of childbirth for both herself and the child, she chose not to inform him.
Yvonne felt immense guilt towards Selah, Channing, and especially Cheyenne.
“Cheyenne went missing in Jostrana. I suspect it must be the doing of those guys from Xona,” she confessed.
Only they would go to such lengths to try and take the map.
Xona…
At the mention of this word, Channing exuded a cold and icy aura that permeated throughout the mountains.
No one knew that group better than him. Xona was a place he despised with every fiber of his being; three-quarters of his life had been spent there.
If Cheyenne really fell into their hands, he couldn’t imagine what she would go through.
Channing wished he could grow wings and fly back to Xona right now.
He glanced at Yvonne, his lips tightly pursed into a straight line as he spoke, “You take care of yourself. I’ll bring Cheyenne back; she’s my daughter.”
Upon hearing this, Yvonne nodded with relief in her eyes. “Thank you so much for doing this for her. She’s had a tough childhood – Selah died early on, you disappeared without a trace, and Layne has always been busy with work – so she’s grown up alone.”
Channing turned away from her; red bloodshot veins appeared in his eyes as he said. “I know.”
He knew how hard it must have been for her when he wasn’t around.
But all that was in the past now; from now on, Channing would give Cheyenne the best life possible!
In a room at Crown Hotel.
A man lay sideways on the sofa with one knee bent up against it while wearing an appropriately tailored black shirt whose top two buttons were left undone revealing some bronze skin on his neck.
Crystal clear beads of sweat dripped down from his chin, slid over his slender neck and wet through parts of his shirt; its color became unevenly darkened.
His silver mask fell off onto the floor along with piles of books and documents scattered about like someone who had stayed up late studying by candlelight.