Chapter 1092
“No, I didn’t. I didn’t push him!” Felix shouted. His tiny body was curled up and tightly protected his
hands.
For him, these hands were the most important things. With these hands, he had to y many
beautiful piano pieces, the ones Jennifer liked.
When the grown-ups stepped in to break up the scuffle, Felix was already sporting bruises and
swelling all over his body.
Felix limped toward his room and encountered Jennifer on his way back.
Jennifer, startled by Felix’s appearance, subconsciously asked, “What happened to you? Who hit
you?” But as soon as she said it, she remembered they were still in a silent feud, so she
immediately closed her mouth.
Felix met Jennifer’s gaze and softly uttered, “Do… you want to practice ying the piano? I… I can
y now,” he pondered and recognized it as his sole advantage,
“And moments ago, I made sure to protect my hands. Hence, they’re unharmed. I could still tackle
those challenging songs!” he eximed inwardly.
Jennifer furrowed her brows. She didn’t like seeing him covered in injuries and insisting on ying
the piano. “Didn’t he know how battered he looked now? Didn’t he feel the pain?” she mused.
Felix approached Jennifer step by step and pleaded, “I… I can y the piano. I’ve learned many
new pieces. Can I y them for you, Jen? Please don’t hate me, don’t stop talking to me…”
Jennifer stared nkly at the approaching figure. She was somewhat taken aback.
But when she heard him say, “I didn’t push Aiden downstairs. I did not lie…” she snapped back to
reality, and her anger resurfaced. “You still won’t admit it. I hate liars. I’m done ying the piano
with you!” With that, Jennifer turned, ran away, and left Felix’s eyes clouded with despair.
He stared at his hands, which he had fiercely protected. In despair, he thought, ‘Now… even my
only strength seems useless.
Jen used to love ying the piano with me, but now she didn’t want to
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anymore. If even this advantage of mine is gone, then… what was left of me? Perhaps, there was
nothing left at all!’
When she returned and saw Felix’s bruised and swollen face, Rosalie erupted in anger.
Rosalie instructed Gary, “Remind everyone in the manor that bullying is uneptable. If I catch
wind of it again, they’ll be out of the Youngblood residence; no exceptions. The same rule applies to
Jen and Guille if they get involved in bullying.”
“Understood,” Gary replied and knew it was time to reprimand some of the manor’s housekeepers.
After all, even though those who bullied Felix were the housekeeper’s children, it was closely tied to
their parent’s usual conduct toward Felix. Gary was aware that some of the children, after they
bullied Felix, would boast to their parents, who would then praise them.
Rosalie cast a reassuring nce at Felix. “If someone gives you trouble again, just give me a
heads-up,” she said with genuine concern.
Felix stared at Rosalie, and his thoughts wandered. “She’s nothing like Mom. Back then, even if I
got into fights outside, Mom couldn’t care less. She’d drown herself in wine, watch TV, or reminisce
about her past glories…” he mused.
“Alright, let’s get some medicine on those bruises.” Rosalie guided the little guy back to his room,
fetched the medicine box, and delicately applied it to Felix’s injuries.
Silence hung in the air as Rosalie gently tended to Felix’s wounds.
“If it hurts, don’t keep it to yourself,” Rosalie urged, mindful of her touch. She was afraid that Felix
felt ufortable, but he kept it to himself and didn’t want to voice his difort.
Felix bit his lip as a peculiar sensation coursed through him as if his pain was gradually
disappearing. “Was it the effect of the medicine, or… perhaps Ms. Leighton’s care?” he wondered.
The following day, Felix’s face still bore the marks of yesterday’s ordeal. Rosalie had considered
giving him a break from kindergarten until he healed, but Felix insisted on going.
Reluctantly, Rosalie apanied him to the kindergarten and briefed the teacher on keeping an
eye on the resilient child.
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At lunch break, a teacher gently woke Felix from his nap and signaled him to rise,
Felix wore a puzzled expression and followed the teacher into a room.
Inside, he was confronted once again by the man who imed to be his father!
Wyatt couldn’t shake the difort in his heart as he gazed at his battered son. Even though the
current circumstances favored bringing Felix back to the Serton family, it was the increasing misery
in the Youngblood residence that would eventually make him more willing to leave.
Yet, an inexplicable pain persisted within Wyatt.
“Is it because we are connected by blood? Because he is my only son?” he pondered and grappled
with the emotions stirring within him.
Wyatt remarked, “You look really roughed up now. Those Youngblood family housekeepers’ kids
gave you a beating, didn’t they?” Despite not residing in the Youngblood residence, he was well-
informed about the ongoings there.
Felix looked at Wyatt with a vignt expression, like a wary little kitten.
“Your standing in the Youngblood family is in shambles now! Everyone’s pointing fingers and
iming you pushed Aiden down the stairs. Even if you swear it wasn’t you, no one’s buying it,
huh?” Wyatt’s words painted a shadow in Felix’s eyes, which mirrored his father’s. The initial
tension dissolved into disheartened disappointment, and his little head sagged.
“Even the kids of the housekeepers dare to take a swing at you, just because, in their eyes, you’re
beneath them,” Wyatt continued and crouched down to level with his son’s gaze. “But imagine if you
were the eldest son of the Serton family, with the same status as Jennifer and Guillermo. How many
would dare to treat you like this?”
A subtle tremor passed through Felix’s body.
“What’s your call? Stick it out in the Youngblood residence, ore back to the Serton family with
me?” he questioned. “At the Serton residence, no one will dare to belittle you, let alone brand you
the offspring of a criminal!”
Felix lifted his head slowly, and a bewildered expression formed as he gazed at Wyatt before him.
The words held an allure and coaxed him to
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agree involuntarily.
He was done with the disdain, with people treating him as less, let alone with hearing others curse
him as the offspring of a criminal; destined to be one himself.
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