Chapter 140: A Friend

Oliva, dressed in traditional clothes, wore a string of agate beads around her neck; each bead was round and smooth, lending her an imposing elegance. “I’ve had a friendship with Grandma He for decades. Even if she has ulterior motives, I’m well aware of them. It’s just a meal; we can talk about the future later,” she said.

Kenny didn’t dare question her actions; he hummed in agreement, absentmindedly looking ahead. Suddenly, a slender figure caught his eye. He thought he had seen wrongly, waiting until he got closer. The girl’s exquisite profile became clear, his heartbeat quickening, his gaze fixed: “Grandma, it’s that girl from that day.” He remembered her name seemed to be Myrna. He saw her, and of course, Oliva saw her too. The kindly expression on his face instantly darkened; his gaze became sharp.

Myrna! She had originally thought Myrna would greet her. Who would have thought the rebellious girl seemed not to recognize them, casually brushing past. Oliva’s face turned abruptly cold, almost to the point of upset. What did she mean, deliberately showing her displeasure? Could she, as an elder, tolerate such disrespect from a younger person? Kenny only caught a whiff of a faint fragrance; the graceful figure was already quickly passing them by. He couldn’t help but call out, “Ms. Stark.”

Myrna heard someone calling her, her steps faltering slightly, and she turned. Her pitch-black eyes saw Oliva and Kenny, only then realizing they were acquaintances. Oliva looked unwell, didn’t even glance at her, seeming as if she didn’t want to greet her. The young man beside her was indeed enthusiastic and had a good attitude. She didn’t have the habit of eagerly seeking attention from those indifferent to her. As she contemplated whether or not to initiate a greeting, a voice sounded from behind them.

“Mya.”

The man’s voice was languid and deep, like plucking good cello strings. The Herring family turned to see a tall man walking toward them. He seemed very familiar with Myrna; his hand rested on her shoulder, and he asked in a deep voice, “Weren’t you going to wash your hands? Why are you standing here?”

“Was just about to go over.”

Kenny instinctively felt something was off about the atmosphere between the two and instinctively asked, “Ms. Stark, who is this?” He actually shouldn’t have asked that question; it was even asked abruptly. Even Oliva didn’t realize he had already asked. Myrna lifted her eyelids, looked at him in surprise, one hand in her pocket, and replied lightly, “Friend.”

Friend? A boyfriend was also a kind of friend. Kenny’s heart sank. He couldn’t help but glance at that man. Suddenly, he bumped into that person. How could those eyes be described? The cold that thirsted for blood, also contained a warning. He was by no means as charming and harmless as his voice had just suggested. He was startled; he still hadn’t figured out who this person was.

Oliva had reacted, realizing her grandson seemed to have a different attitude towards Myrna. Her face suddenly turned slightly gloomy, and she pulled him: “Kenny, let’s go back!” The granddaughter the Payne family found was too wild. She looked down upon her and absolutely would not allow such a person to marry into their family. That Kristin from the Payne family wasn’t too bad. Myrna wanted to pair up with Kenny, but she absolutely disagreed.

“Grandma,” Kenny didn’t want to leave.

Oliva was resolute, “Go back!”

He couldn’t resist, could only leave with a face full of regret, looking back three times with each step. Myrna hadn’t noticed the trickery in their interaction. Seeing them leave, she felt a sense of relief, conveniently avoiding the need to greet them. She was just about to leave when the road ahead was blocked by someone’s arm.