Late at night, Fiona had gone to sleep peacefully after receiving Wade's assurance and knowing that her son would not recklessly reveal those dangerous inventions.
But Ferdinand still lay awake in the darkness, unable to fall asleep for a long time.
Their earlier conversation kept echoing in his ears, carving a deep furrow between his brows.
Regretfully, he thought, I was too harsh.
He truly was worried that Wade's unrestrained inventions would bring great trouble upon himself, but he could have been gentler during their conversation, could have taken things step by step!
Why had his tone been so stern and grave, as though failing to stop those inventions at once would trigger a world war...? What a terrible blow that must have been for the child!
Ferdinand turned over, the blankets rustling softly.
Watching the moonlight cast the shadow of the window frame across the wall, he recalled Wade's animated expression whenever he spoke about inventions. His heart ached as though pricked by needles, and he could not help letting out a long sigh.
Fiona seemed to have been disturbed by his movement. She mumbled vaguely in her sleep, hugged the quilt, and rolled over, her hair spreading across the pillow.
Ferdinand simply got up. Wearing his robe, he felt his way through the darkness to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Then he stood there, absentmindedly staring at the ripples trembling in the glass.
After dawn... he should talk to Wade again. Not forbid him harshly, but tell him that turning his ideal world into reality would still require time to mature...
But Wade could first turn his ideas into tangible objects. Large-scale sales might still be far off, but keeping them at home to admire himself would be good too...
Ferdinand raised the glass