Chapter 461

"Mom, Dad, we're going upstairs. Aunt Li doesn't need to show us the way—I remember my room." Andrew Smith's gaze swept over the unfamiliar housekeeper, his brow furrowing slightly.

It wasn't Aunt Niandi.

The woman who had cared for their family for over twenty years had become like family. His father had personally promised to provide for Aunt Niandi in her old age—why had she been replaced so abruptly?

Aunt Li nervously rubbed her hands together. "Your room is ready, Dr. White will stay in the guest—"

"Don't trouble yourself." Andrew cut her off coldly, taking Luna's hand as they ascended the stairs.

Flustered, Aunt Li looked toward Eileen Wei, who gave her a dismissive glance. "Go prepare lunch. Follow the menu I gave you—make sure to include all of Andrew's favorites."

So tactless.

Aunt Li retreated awkwardly.

Aaron Smith sidled up to his father with a grin, offering a cigarette. "Dad, now that Andrew's finally married, you can rest easy. He's really outdone himself, landing such an amazing wife."

Andrew Senior waved it away. "I quit."

"What?" Aaron nearly dropped the cigarette. "You—the lifelong chain-smoker—quit? I need a moment..."

"Brat! Isn't quitting a good thing?" Though Andrew Senior's scolding was loud, his eyes held amusement. This son of his had shown marked improvement lately.

Aaron slumped onto the sofa like a deflated balloon. "Dad only quit because he lost a bet with Uncle Johnson."

Regret gnawed at him.

Today had been a disgrace. A grown man, reduced to petty gossip like some backbiting housewife—this wasn't the Andrew Smith he knew himself to be.

As a propaganda officer, he might not have seen frontline combat, but the same blood ran in his veins as his brother. Given the chance, he wouldn't hesitate to lay down his life for his country.

Yet he'd let himself be swayed...

No matter what, Luna was still a woman. Why had he been so harsh?

Damn Diana!

Her constant weeping these past days, playing the jilted lover, had dragged him into this spiral...

No. Andrew shook his head sharply.

Blaming a woman? What kind of man did that make him? The prejudice had been his own doing.

His fists clenched.

It was time for field training. Only by weathering storms could he become a man worthy of the name.