Chapter 467

A lavish feast covered the round table, the steaming dishes exuding tantalizing aromas. This meal served as both a welcoming banquet and a celebration of achievements, carrying extraordinary significance.

Andrew Smith and his three sons clinked glasses, toasting repeatedly as the wine flowed freely.

The old man was in exceptionally high spirits today. At his age, personal glory no longer mattered. When old comrades gathered, they inevitably compared their children's accomplishments.

His eldest son's insistence on leaving military service for business had once shamed him deeply. In a military family like theirs, following in a father's footsteps was the proper path. The eldest had been prime officer material yet chose an entirely different road.

Whenever asked about his firstborn's occupation, he'd always stammered evasively. But now everything had changed—youngest son Andrew's accomplishments allowed him to hold his head high. Tonight, countless old comrades would lie awake burning with envy.

"May all sons be like Andrew Smith"—this saying pleased him immensely.

This was true honor brought to the family name.

The future of the Smith lineage rested on these young shoulders.

As the drinking continued merrily, the elder Smith eventually collapsed in drunken oblivion. Even Andrew's brother remained too intoxicated to leave, requiring overnight accommodation.

Luna White finished dinner early, and Andrew considerately suggested she retire first. His mother also tactfully withdrew to her own quarters.

Pushing open the bedroom door, Luna froze.

A brand-new double bed dominated the room's center, complete with plush mattress and fresh linens. She couldn't suppress a smile—Andrew certainly worked quickly.

Emerging from her bath wearing the silk pajamas Lily Clark had handmade, Luna's snow-pale skin glowed against the blush-pink fabric. As she towel-dried her hair, the door suddenly swung open.

Andrew stood framed in the doorway, his military uniform impeccably pressed. The wall lamp's glow outlined his chiseled profile, his deep eyes holding unreadable emotions.

"Finished?" His low voice carried a whisper of wine.

Luna's pulse accelerated as she gestured hastily toward the bathroom. "I-I'm done. Your turn." She hurried to the vanity, pretending absorption in brushing her hair.

"Hmm." Andrew efficiently shed his uniform, retrieving fresh clothes from the wardrobe.

Pausing at the bathroom threshold, he glanced back at her: "Won't be long."

Two simple words that set Luna's ears burning. Before she could respond, the door clicked shut, leaving only the sound of rushing water.