Chapter 269

Steaming dumplings had just been placed on the table when the two grandsons eagerly scrambled over. The three-year-old already reached out with his tiny hand, trying to grab one to stuff into his mouth.

A light smack—the old woman gently swatted his hand away. "Wait until your uncle comes back!" she scolded, though her eyes involuntarily flicked toward the courtyard.

Old Man Walter sat on the edge of the kang, his pipe tapping impatiently against the wooden frame. "Where the hell are those two rascals?" he grumbled, casting another glance outside.

His wife chuckled. "Just admit you miss your son, old man. No need to pretend."

"Who said I miss him?" Walter's face darkened. "I just don’t want the dumplings to get cold and upset the boys' stomachs!"

Just then, the door curtain lifted, and the second and third sons stepped in, bringing a gust of cold air with them.

"Where’s your brother?" the old woman asked urgently.

Nathaniel rubbed his hands together. "The cave was pitch black. We knocked for ages, but no one answered."

The room fell silent. The old woman’s expression shifted as realization dawned.

Bang! Walter slammed his pipe onto the low table. "From now on, no one mentions that ungrateful son of mine! He can go wherever he pleases—he’s no longer part of this family!"

The two younger sons lowered their heads, not daring to speak. The New Year’s Eve dinner passed in heavy silence, broken only by the grandchildren’s laughter.

After the meal, Walter gathered everyone in the inner room. His face was stormy as he declared, "Starting today, Ryan Wallace is no longer my son. If any of you dare to help him behind my back, don’t bother coming home!"

Tears welled in the old woman’s eyes, while the two sons exchanged uneasy glances. They knew their father meant every word.

"Dad, about Ryan—" the youngest began.

"Shut your mouth!" Walter slammed the table. "He threw away a perfectly good pig-farming trade to run off with that divorced woman. Let’s see how far he gets without his skills!"

In the next room, the daughters-in-law sighed. Since Ryan had left, the second and third sons had been working nonstop. They all knew—without Ryan, the family had lost its backbone.

Late into the night, Walter sat alone on the kang, smoking in brooding silence. Outside, firecrackers crackled in celebration, but to him, the noise was nothing but grating.

"Luna Whitaker," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Let’s see how much suffering you bring my son!"

Meanwhile, in the Whitaker courtyard, the scene was entirely different. Ryan helped Luna wrap dumplings while Ethan and Samuel assisted. Amid the laughter and chatter, no one noticed the complicated emotions hidden in Ryan’s occasional glances toward the Wallace home.

This New Year’s Eve would leave a deep rift between the two families—one that time might never fully heal.