Early in the morning, a pickup truck pulled up outside Wayne Estate, specially delivering food for the estate.
"Mr. Pennyworth, are you getting ready for Christmas?"
A sturdy young man with a towel draped around his neck walked in carrying a crate of butchered beef. Seeing Wayne Manor being cleaned, he asked curiously.
"Yes, Morse. Have you prepared the Christmas roast turkey? I still remember your grandmother's apple pie. It was truly a rare delicacy," Alfred said with a nostalgic smile.
"Haha, of course. Grandma also said that when Christmas comes, she'll prepare a gift for Master Wayne."
Morse carried the crate into the kitchen with practiced ease, then sorted the meat and hung it in the enormous refrigerator. He also left some sliced bacon on a platter.
Alfred stood nearby watching. Those who delivered food to Wayne Estate were all old retainers of the Wayne Family.
Perhaps they did not bear the Wayne surname, but they had served in this old house for half their lives. Morse's grandmother, for instance, had once been the head maid of Wayne Estate.
The farm they ran now was also Wayne Family property. Their presence was part of the Wayne Family's glory.
"Morse, stop slacking off and unload the eggs from the truck!"
"Yes, yes, Dad." Morse rolled his eyes helplessly, ran out of the kitchen, and began moving the eggs.
A burly, bald middle-aged man waddled in with his belly protruding. Seeing his son's behavior, he gave a smug snort, every bit the head of the household.
He set down the milk bottles in his hands, then turned to Alfred with a smile as gentle as a spring breeze.
"Mr. Pennyworth, Merry Christmas!"
"Now, now, it isn't Christmas yet. That's tomorrow." Alfred blinked and walked toward the other side.
The middle-aged man