Ronan Yardley wasn’t very old.

But he spoke with a maturity beyond his years.

Perhaps it was just as the saying goes: a child with a mother is a treasure, while one without is like a weed. His kind father, Liam Yardley, was already dead. As for his mother, her presence was no different from her absence.

Even Celeste Grant was surprised that a child with parents like Liam Yardley and Jocelyn Grant hadn’t turned out badly.

A child can’t choose his parents, but he can choose the kind of person he becomes.

Jocelyn Grant’s son was a decent boy. If he could hold onto this mindset, Celeste Grant might consider letting him go to live his own life. However, the human heart is a complex thing. His thoughts could change in an instant, so caution was still necessary.

The saying "mercy toward an enemy is cruelty to oneself" wasn’t just empty words.

For example, imagine you kill your enemy’s entire family but can’t bring yourself to harm an infant in their swaddling clothes. You release the child out of pity. Twenty years later, that child returns as an adult to take revenge, slaughtering your entire family and not even sparing your own newborn. After so many novels and TV shows, it was a classic trope.

「Just then, not far from the pavilion.」

Jocelyn Grant grabbed Ronan’s hands, her face contorted in pain. She looked at her newly-recovered son and spoke in a choked voice, "Do you have any idea what you’re saying, child? You’re just saying that because you’re angry, aren’t you? I know. You must still blame me for leaving you behind. It truly wasn’t my choice. Ronan, how could you hurt my heart like this? I really didn’t abandon you on purpose."

"Just come back with me. I’ll make it up to you. Did you know? Not a single moment has passed all these years when I wasn’t thinking of you. I dreamed of our reunion, of the moment we would see each other again. Ronan, I love you..." she trailed off, sobbing.

Before she could continue, Ronan pulled his hands free from her grasp.

"That’s enough..."

His voice rose slightly.

Ronan looked at the woman before him and spoke very deliberately, enunciating every word. "I don’t need you to compensate me for anything, nor have I ever blamed you. Mother... you have another Taoist Companion now, and other children. They need you. I, on the other hand, am grown and can live on my own. You gave birth to me. I will never deny that you are my biological mother. If one day you have nowhere else to go, you can always come to me. If you miss me, you can visit. And I’ll find time to visit you as well."

"Enough! Enough... Don’t say another word."

Jocelyn Grant couldn’t accept it.

’Her son wasn’t close to her anymore.’

’Her son didn’t want her.’

Jocelyn Grant staggered back two steps and collapsed onto the ground. "Why... Ronan, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know you hate me. You still blame me."

’Brother Young is gone.’

’And now our son is being so disobedient, throwing a tantrum at me... What am I supposed to do?’ 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

"Brother Young... what should I do to make our son forgive me?"

She looked up slightly at her son standing before her. With an expression that screamed, "I’m only doing this for your own good," she said, "Ronan, you have to listen to me. You’re still young; how can you live by yourself? I only just found you. How can I let you wander about out here all alone?"

"Ronan, I’m begging you, please come back with me. I’ve already lost your father. I can’t lose you, too."

Ronan reached out and helped her to her feet.

Jocelyn Grant thought he had come around and was willing to go back with her. A happy expression lit up her face as she looked at him. "Ronan, have you come to your senses? Are you willing to come back with me?"

’Go back? Go back where?’

’He didn’t have a home anymore!’

Ronan slowly shook his head.

He spoke. "I’ll say it again, Mother. I don’t plan on going back with you. Look, I have hands and feet. I can support myself. You should just focus on living your own life and stop worrying about me."

’How could her child say such heartless things?’ Thinking of his words, Jocelyn Grant’s face twisted in pain.

She looked at her son and couldn’t stop herself from saying, "Aren’t you just twisting a knife in my heart? You’re my own flesh and blood. How could I possibly not care about you?"

Ronan felt like he just couldn’t get through to her. He frowned and sighed. "And so? Mother, do you want me to go live under someone else’s roof? To be called a burden, a dead weight, a good-for-nothing? Is that what you call ’for my own good’? That’s the life *you* want, not the one *I* want. I just want to be self-reliant and live a life of freedom. I don’t want to have to walk on eggshells around others, or suck up to people just to get by. I want to be able to stand tall with dignity. Mother, *that* is the life I want. I hope you can support me."

Jocelyn Grant stared at him.

"How could you think that? I’ve never thought you were a burden. As long as I’m around, how could you possibly be forced to live under someone else’s roof? I’m your biological mother; would I ever harm you? Wouldn’t it be better for you to come back with me, so our family can be together from now on?"

Ronan looked at her.

"It’s only because you’re my biological mother that I’m even standing here talking to you. Mother, I don’t need you to do things ’for my own good.’ I’m fine on my own. To me, your ’kindness’ is actually a burden and a form of harm."

Jocelyn Grant couldn’t believe the words coming out of her son’s mouth.

"What nonsense are you spouting? You’re my son! How can you say that to me? I just want to be reunited with my son. Is it wrong for our family to be together and never be separated again?"

Ronan turned his head toward the night sky, his expression desolate. He spoke calmly. "Mother, do you know when my birthday is?"

"Your birthday is..."

Jocelyn Grant trailed off.

’When was Ronan’s birthday? The eighth of the second month, or was it the sixth...?’ She suddenly couldn’t be sure. Panic flared in her mind for an instant.

’How could she have forgotten her son’s birthday?’ Jocelyn Grant took a step back as tears streamed down her face. "I..."

Ronan raised a hand, cutting her off.

"Mother, my birthday is on the sixth of the third month. See... You’ve even forgotten my birthday."

Jocelyn Grant burst into tears.

"It’s not like that! I just haven’t seen you in so long, I was so happy that it slipped my mind. How could I possibly not remember your birthday? I carried you for nine months."

’His mother was a cultivator; how could she forget his birthday? Unless she simply didn’t care, how was it possible?’

With his back to her, Ronan smiled faintly. It was a smile of release.

’No matter.’

’At least he’d seen her.’

’Knowing she was still alive was enough.’

In truth, he wasn’t a little kid anymore; he understood everything. People used to throw stones at him, saying his mother had run off with another man and abandoned him. They said it was because he was a good-for-nothing who couldn’t cultivate, a burden. Others would whisper behind his back that his father had been cuckolded and that his mother was a terrible person.

Even so, every time he heard people speak ill of his mother, he would step forward to defend her. Because despite all her faults, she was still the one who gave birth to him.

’He had waited so many years for her to return. But in that time, she’d gone and had other children with another Taoist Companion.’

"Mother, if you try to take me back by force, I won’t be able to resist. But I truly hope you won’t."