"Young master, the family doctor said sir needs to rest. You... you can't..."
Edward pulled out his Wand and pointed its tip at the butler's chest. "One more word, and I won't mind adding another statue to the house!"
"Young master..."
The butler sighed but did not follow him.
The master bedroom on the Third Floor!
Knock, knock, knock! Knock, knock, knock!
"Dad, it's me, Wesem. The butler said you were ill, so I wanted to come in and see you!"
Knock, knock, knock! Knock, knock, knock!
"Dad, it's me, Wesem. The butler said..."
Like a broken record, Edward knocked six times, then loudly announced why he was there. After he repeated this seven or eight times, a hoarse, irritated voice came from inside.
"Wesem, surely someone taught you that sick people need rest. Go on, get away from the door. Stop disturbing me!"
"Dad, your voice is coming from the back right corner of the room. If I had to guess, you're sitting at your desk. I can't tell whether you're reading or practicing your handwriting, though. I'm coming in!"
Without waiting for an answer, Edward took out a key and led Luo Bin inside.
"Dad, your face... your neck... your hands... your ankles. Dad, did you fall into a pool of black ink?"
Edward covered his mouth, snickering.
Old Edward ignored his irreverent youngest son. His hawklike eyes stayed fixed on Luo Bin. If looks could take physical form, Luo Bin would have been riddled with arrows.
"Mr. Edward, have you come down with... blackening disease?"
Luo Bin thought: If turning completely white was albinism, then by the same logic, turning completely black had to be blackening disease, right?
"Robin Sear, you know why I look like this, don't you?"
Know? Oh, I know all right. The moment