Chapter 115 Fine Powder

At the mention of Emrys, Charlotte flushed. “Weren’t we talking about the phone, Grandpa? Why are we suddenly talking about Mr. Lund? I… I’m not quite there with him!”

In her discomfort, she traced the ground with her foot in a coy manner.

Franklin grew even more morose. What a state we’re in!

He sighed once more.

“Do you think Mr. Lund exceptional, Charlotte?” Franklin asked sternly.

“Of course! He’s the best. Handsome, learned, and his bike goes faster than an Audi. My friends in cram class didn’t believe me when I told them this.”

Charlotte became chatty at the prospect of talking about Emrys, but she stopped herself when she noticed her grandfather’s odd expression. “What were you going to say to me, Grandpa?”

Franklin hesitated. “Since you know what a good man he is, how are you going to be worthy of him if you don’t buck up?”

Charlotte froze, speechless.

What does Grandpa mean by that? Does Mr. Lund think I’m not good enough and had Grandpa tell me? Oh, how hurtful!

Charlotte’s young, naïve heart felt as if it were breaking.

We haven’t even begun dating yet, but it’s already over. Oh, my heart! It hurts.

Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears. She looked as if she was going to cry, so Franklin hastened to comfort her. “It’s not that Mr. Lund thinks you’re not good enough. He just thinks it would be even better if you could improve.”

“That’s basically saying I’m not good enough!”

back the floodgates

bear to see her cry, so he concocted a lie. “Actually, Mr. Lund told me he

“Really?

“Yes, really.”

“You’d better not lie.”

snakes and scorpions, an emaciated old man was sitting cross–legged with a gigantic

old man’s

a sudden grunt, he spat out a mouthful of blood, his face contorting

my

in, their faces pale, and fell to their knees in terror “What happened,

“Wilfred is dead!”

“What? He’s dead?”

trio swayed on the

called Jadeborough in Jazona. Go there at once and bring back Wilfred’s killer. I will cut

“At once, Master.”

the three pale men left. His strange eyes were no different from

kill my seven–colored centipede, which I have cultivated with so much care! I will skin you alive when I catch you!”

he lamented

he would have gone to

medicinal powder, divided it

to allay wind and spasms, detoxify the b*dy, and dispel stagnation, was

the seven–colored centipede’s power, it

of the powder to

brought some tonic soup over to the bed. “Come, Clumsy. Take

the state I’m in,

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