A Scumbag Always Gets What He Deserves

26: A life without being hugged

It was almost midnight, and Jian Qiao, whose body wasn't fully recovered, had already reached his limit. He was drowsy, but because of his fear of nightmares he forced himself to stay alert, which made his face even paler than usual.

Rege, who was constantly observing him, immediately noticed the difference. "Andrew and the others may decide to play until the early hours. Why don't you go back, I'll see you off."

"Then I'll leave first." Jian Qiao immediately stood up.

In front of Rege, he didn't need to maintain perfect aristocratic etiquette, nor did he need to be solicitous at all times. Uncomfortable is uncomfortable, wanting to leave is wanting to leave, there was no need to put on a false front.

"Go wait by the door, I'll bring you a cloak." Rege took Jian Qiao to the side hall to whisper an order before he walked to his bedroom.

The servant just now had told him it was raining outside, and he knew how cold and rainy an early spring night could be. At this time of year, even the elusive owls would fly into cabins to share a warm fire with a hunter, in spite of the danger.

Rege had previously noticed the gentleman Earl wore only a cashmere coat. That obviously wasn't enough to keep him warm.

"You should know your own physical condition best. When others put on a coat, you need to add a cloak. When others add a cloak, you need an eiderdown vest. You should always add one more layer than other people, no mistake about it," Rege recited as they walked.

Jian Qiao nodded obediently, "Right, I know, I'll pay attention in the future."

His meekness made Rege reveal a satisfied smile before he strode upstairs. With his voice full of energy he said, "Just wait here, I'll be right back."

The thumping footsteps receded. Jian Qiao stood in place for a while, then put his hands behind his back and slowly paced.

Suddenly an aged voice came from the corridor outside. "My lord, are you lost?"

Jian Qiao looked back, then immediately walked over and bowed. "How do you do, Duke. I'm not lost, I'm waiting for Rege. He should be here in a moment. I'm Jian Qiao, son of Ronseth Qiao. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Ah, so it's the son of Ronseth, you've grown so big. How time flies!" The Duke of Grande showed an expression of realization, and there was a faint light in his clouded eyes.

He seemed to recall the rosy years of his past.

Jian Qiao looked at him with surprise.

In just a few days, this hale and hearty old man had grown haggard. The hair at his temples was bleached by frost and a few new wrinkles crept onto his forehead. The turmoil in his family had drained away the powerful aura of yesterday.

The power in his hands seemed to dissipate like a cloud of smoke, leaving him with nothing in the end. This was the reason he didn't appear at the banquet. Just as Rege said, his time was over.

"Rege asked you to wait here? Are you a friend of his?" the Duke of Grande asked.

"Yes, we're good friends." Jian Qiao was very sure about this friendship.

The Duke of Grande's eyes lit up slightly, and his attitude immediately became kind and enthusiastic. "Then can I give you a tour of this old castle? It's more than two hundred years old. The long years have eroded its high walls, but they've also given many priceless treasures, which I think you'd be interested in. We can talk as we go."

He wanted to get close to and understand his only son. Sadly, as a father, he could only resort to this roundabout approach.

"Of course, it's my honor." Jian Qiao wouldn't turn down an invitation from an old man.