Mentor Jon

More than twenty years ago, the brothers' father—Noah Pat—rescued Jon, who was barely clinging to life outside the manor. After Jon recovered from his injuries, Viscount Noah learned that he had nowhere to go. His heart softened, and he took him in, giving him a well-paid job as an orchard keeper.

Why Jon had been injured and collapsed outside the manor, as well as his origins, remained a mystery to this day. He had never told anyone. He always claimed to come from another planet, but he never explained where this country called "planet" was.

Jon was a glib, eloquent man, skilled in planting and construction as well. When they were young, both brothers loved coming to Jon's place to listen to his wondrous stories. In the worlds of those stories stood buildings soaring into the clouds, iron machines flying through the sky, and even gardens built upon the moon.

Leon had listened with delight as a child, deeply yearning for the world in Jon's tales. He had believed that once he grew up, he would be able to visit that land from Jon's stories. But as time passed and Leon gradually came to understand things, he learned that everything Jon had said was nothing more than fiction. The shattering of that childhood dream was hard for Leon to accept. From then on, he always faced Jon with disdain and anger.

Leon was actually quite angry that Angel trusted Jon so completely and had even taken him as his mentor. Yet no matter how Leon tried to dissuade him, Angel merely smiled in response, neither refusing nor arguing back.

Angel's way of dealing with people was very much like Jon's. He seemed calm and gentle, yet neither soft nor hard tactics could move him.

Leon picked up the parchment from Angel's desk. At the densely packed writing on it, his eyes instantly turned into spirals.

"Instead of using the common script of the continent, you insist on recording things in that old man's writing. What you write is meant for others to read, isn't it? Unless... it's some unspeakable secret." Leon had been muttering to himself, but then he seemed to recall something. A wicked smile curled one corner of his mouth as he looked at Angel. "My dear little brother, aren't you going to explain? Don't tell me you're recording... the little troubles of puberty~~ You might as well tell me. Your brother can answer your questions for you."

Angel sighed helplessly and pointed to a corner of the page. "These are Chinese characters. My mentor taught them to me—they are the common writing of his homeland. What is recorded here is the meaning of several physical constants calculated by my mentor."

Angel then pointed at several symbols that looked like tadpoles. "These are Arabic numerals. They are similar to the units of measurement used in our Golden Sparrow Empire, except this method of notation is simpler and more intuitive. The meaning of these numbers corresponds to the physical constants above. They can be used to record many things."

Leon did not understand a single word of Angel's lengthy explanation. But he did not care. He merely assumed that old Jon's ability to hoodwink people had improved again, and that his cute, innocent little brother had been brainwashed even more deeply.

Leon had originally felt some sympathy and concern for Jon's physical condition, but now it had all vanished into thin air.

With a wave of his hand, Leon stopped Angel's torrent of words, then pulled an exquisitely wrapped envelope from inside his armor.

"Alright, alright, stop talking. I can't understand it anyway, and I don't want to. Here, take this. It's an invitation from the city lord. This time, when I inherit Father's title, I'll need the city lord and Marquis Merlin to bear witness. We'll set out in half a month. Haven't you always wanted to hear Master Meijeff's solo concert? Once we reach Waterford and finish our business, I'll take you to the Ocean Theater and let you listen to your heart's content!"

Angel accepted the invitation, a faint excitement appearing on his face. He had long heard that Waterford was home to a great musician renowned throughout the empire. Whether in composition or hymns, he was second to none, but Angel had never had the chance to meet him. Now, taking advantage of his brother's inheritance of the title, he would be fortunate enough to hear him perform. How could he not be delighted

!

Seeing Angel desperately suppressing his excitement and pretending to be composed, Leon could not resist reaching out and ruffling Angel's golden hair.

As expected, his action earned him Angel's furious glare.

"I told you, don't touch my hair! This is a man's dignity—there can be no compromise!"

"Hahahaha!" Leon froze for a moment before suddenly throwing back his head and laughing. Only after a long while did he stop. "You've only just turned fourteen. You don't even count as a man yet—just a boy who hasn't grown into himself."

The two brothers tussled for a while. Angel was still growing, so naturally he was no match for Leon, who was broad and sturdy as a fierce tiger. In the end, Angel could only glare resentfully at Leon and lower his head to continue recording the homework assigned by Mentor Jon.

Leon could do nothing about his little brother sulking and refusing to speak to him. He could only rub his nose and leave on his own.

It was about half an hour after Leon left before Angel finally crawled ashore from the sea of numbers.

Looking at the empty room, Angel knew Leon must have been gone for quite some time. Checking the time, he saw that it was nearly lunch. He opened the front door and, sure enough, found two lunch boxes on the stone table in the courtyard. Mana, the head maid, was taking the dishes out one by one.

Seeing yet another meal of vegetable soup with bread and fruit, Angel became a little dejected.

He missed the meals his mentor made so much. Even a simple fried rice seemed to contain a magical power that made him unable to stop eating with great relish.

Ever since his mentor's health had worsened by the day, Angel had never again eaten such delicious food.

Last time, Angel had asked his mentor to teach the cook some culinary skills, but the final product had been too dreadful to behold.

Sigh... Now that his mentor's limbs had nearly atrophied, he probably would never be able to eat his mentor's cooking again.

Mana carried the thick soup upstairs to feed the ill Jon, while Angel immersed himself in sorrowful self-pity.

After lunch, Angel went inside and happened to see Mana coming down from the second floor.

"Aunt Mana, is Mentor awake?"

"Young Master Angel, Mr. Jon is already awake." Mana shook the clean porcelain dishes in her basket. "Mr. Jon had quite a good appetite today. He drank all the soup."

"That's good. I'll go up and see Mentor."

Watching Angel dash upstairs in a rush, Mana lowered her head with an indulgent smile in her eyes. Pat Manor was now run by the two young masters. To outsiders, the elder young master seemed cold-faced and proud, while the younger was gentle and composed. Yet few knew that the two young masters were still children who had not truly grown up. No matter how strong they appeared outside, there was still softness within them. Only before their personal servants would they let down their guard and show the liveliness proper to their age.

"Mentor!"

The moment Angel pushed open the attic door, he saw an old man half-reclining in a lounge chair on the balcony, with a mute servant standing respectfully behind him.

The old man's complexion was waxy yellow, his skin shriveled. His appearance was utterly different from that of the locals, carrying a strong foreign air. His eyes were somewhat cloudy, but his black pupils could still be seen.

He was Jon—the elder Angel respected most after his father's death, and Angel's mentor in life.