Chapter 47

Nash slept through the afternoon and was awakened by a video call from Hera. He answered, yawning, and asked, "Did you miss me?"

Hera smiled. "What about you? If you missed me, then I definitely missed you."

"I didn't," Nash responded lightly.

She pouted. "Then I didn't miss you either…"

"You seem to be in a good mood," Nash observed.

"I'm in a great mood today! Did you know? Drake Group signed a 300-million-dollar project with us!" Hera enthused.

"Wow, isn't that amazing?" He sounded surprised.

She nodded. "Indeed. It must be thanks to Uncle…" She knew only that her uncle was a business manager at Drake Group. She could think of no one else responsible.

Nash smiled. "Stop that nonsense. It's all thanks to me. So, how are you going to thank me?"

Hera wrinkled her nose. "Hmph, you're not my uncle. We'll stop here. I have to go to the company for an emergency meeting immediately!"

She hastily ended the call. Returning to the villa, she summoned her parents to headquarters for a meeting.

Nash tossed his phone aside and yawned again. The old phone on his bedside table rang. He picked it up; there was no caller ID. He'd given this number to only two people since leaving the mountains: Stellar and Brian. Stellar's unusual seven-digit number meant this call was from Brian.

He answered. Brian's voice came immediately: "Grandmaster, would you like to go for a drink?"

"If you have something to say, just say it," Nash replied lightly.

"Mr. Watson wishes to meet with you," Brian said carefully.

"No," Nash refused without hesitation. He'd given the Watsons a chance yesterday, and they'd failed to appreciate it.

Brian said, his tone bitter, "Grandmaster, I usually bring colleagues to the mountains for free clinics. Mr. Watson even donated 30 million to the clinic team yesterday."

Nash smiled subtly. "Is this a good thing?"

The donation was merely a pretense to appease Brian, yet he'd accepted it.

"Grandmaster, I didn't want to accept it, but I want to help those impoverished mountain families. They lack food, warm clothes, and suffer from illness. It hurts to see," Brian explained.

"Alright, enough with the tricks. Take him to where we had dinner yesterday," Nash interrupted. Brian addressed him as 'Grandmaster,' and having accepted the money, he couldn't ignore the situation. Brian's desire to help the impoverished was genuine. Nash's master, a merciful man, had donated extensively to mountainous regions across the country and traveled the world, healing people. Any disciple would inherit that compassion.

Nash dressed, washed his face, and left. Three luxurious Rolls-Royces pulled up outside a restaurant called Blessing, attracting a crowd. Four or five bodyguards emerged, followed by several middle-aged men in traditional suits, two elderly individuals, and a beautiful woman in her twenties.

"Grandpa, are we really eating at such a dirty place?"