The distant nephew coughed, his eyes darting around. "I’m just curious. After all these years, could the person you found really be Eleanor’s child?"
Old Mr. Yeats looked at him like he was an idiot. "Do you think the DNA test is fake?"
The nephew choked back his words, then quickly put on an apologetic smile. "That’s not what I meant. It’s great that Eleanor’s child has been found. It’s just that she’s lived out there for over twenty years and is used to that life. Who knows if she’ll even want to return to the Yeats Family?"
Old Mr. Yeats nodded. "Hmm, fair point."
The nephew felt a surge of joy. He was just about to press his advantage and urge the old man not to bring the girl back to threaten Claire’s position. Then, he heard the old man ask with genuine curiosity, "But what does that have to do with you?"
The nephew’s smile froze on his face. "...Wh-what?"
Old Mr. Yeats spoke slowly and deliberately. "I’m bringing back a child of my own family, not yours. Why are you so concerned?"
The nephew instinctively replied, "I’m not concerned, I just..."
"If you aren’t concerned," Old Mr. Yeats’s eyes sharpened, "then why are you running your mouth?"
"Uncle, I-I’m just thinking of you..."
"Although you call me ’Uncle,’ the truth is, the blood ties between our two families are quite distant." Old Mr. Yeats nonchalantly wiped the precious jade teacup in his hands. His tone was flat, yet it carried the deep, ingrained aura of a longtime patriarch. "So, don’t make me angry. Understood?"
The nephew shivered, breaking out in a cold sweat. He didn’t dare say another word.
It was true. Even though his surname was Yeats, his blood relationship with Old Mr. Yeats was extremely distant. It wasn’t like Eleanor, who was the daughter of Old Mr. Yeats’s biological younger brother. Furthermore, Old Mr. Yeats’s parents had been very busy, so he had practically raised his younger brother himself. After his brother passed away, he had also raised Eleanor single-handedly. She was no different from his own daughter. Therefore, naturally, Old Mr. Yeats would treat Eleanor’s child as his own.
But... but what about their Claire?!
But right now, the nephew didn’t dare utter a single syllable. He could only leave awkwardly.
Old Mr. Yeats suddenly opened his eyes. "They’re getting greedier and greedier."
Crestfall.
Estelle Lockwood had said she wanted to meet that Young Mr. Yeats. So, an hour later, they were sitting in an elegant, high-end dim sum restaurant.
Quentin Yeats carefully observed the person sitting across from him. She was a bit different from what he had imagined, but she was wonderful. He offered a gentle smile. "Please, take a seat, Miss Lockwood. What would you like to eat?"
Estelle was also sizing him up. This man was very likely her "brother." She raised an eyebrow. "Let’s skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point. Did you come to Crestfall looking for me, Young Mr. Yeats?"
"Yes," Quentin replied, remaining gentle and polite.
"Because of my parentage?" Estelle asked.
Quentin increasingly felt that this cousin of his was different from what he had expected, but her personality was actually much more endearing. He revealed a sincere smile. "Yes."
Estelle let out a soft "Oh," then smiled. "But I haven’t even done a DNA test with you or your family. For you to just show up at my door so presumptuously... what if you’ve made a mistake?"
"Why would you think there’s a mistake?" Quentin looked surprised. "The moment I saw you, I knew you were my aunt’s daughter."
Estelle raised her brow again, then changed the subject. "But I remember the Yeats Family already has an eldest daughter. Since you’ve come all this way, you must naturally know about what happened between me and the Lockwood Family."
Quentin understood what she meant. "We are not like the Lockwood Family."
"Oh? But Noelle Lockwood was at least an adopted daughter in name, and the Lockwoods still wanted me dead for her sake. Claire Yeats doesn’t just share blood with the Yeats Family; she’s also the eldest daughter you’ve all doted on and raised with endless pampering." Estelle smiled. "Young Mr. Yeats, it seems your family gives me even less reason to feel reassured."
Quentin looked at her, fell into a brief silence, and then let out a sigh. He had secretly investigated Estelle for a long time. He knew she wasn’t a gold digger, nor would she try to drive Claire away just because she was coming home—provided Claire didn’t stir up any trouble, of course.
The reason she said this was likely to secure a way out for herself. Ever since Estelle had been hurt, she liked to keep everything under her own control. Whether it was family or romance, she had to be the one calling the shots. The Yeats Family could be her family, but if they mistreated her, she could easily walk away at any time. Her words today were simply laying out her mindset to Quentin.
Quentin made a gentle promise. "Estelle, I know what you’re thinking. To you, Claire was never someone of any importance, right? What you care about is family.
"The relationship between you and the Yeats Family will be led by you. The family will treat you well, but we will not interfere with your decisions."
Estelle laughed softly. She was starting to believe that they really were family. He had understood her intentions so quickly. Resting her chin in her hand, she asked, "What kind of person was my mother?"
Quentin smiled faintly. For Estelle to ask such a question, she must have mostly accepted her identity. "She was a lot like you. She had a mind of her own and was very different from ordinary wealthy young ladies."
"Hmm," Estelle nodded, then asked, "So your mission in coming to Crestfall this time is just to take me to Capital City?"
Quentin shook his head. "The Yeats Family wants to expand its business empire into Crestfall, so I’ll be staying here. In the future, the family’s focus will shift toward Crestfall, and Grandpa will also move over eventually."
Estelle raised her eyebrows. "There shouldn’t be any need for the Yeats Family to shift its focus."
The family had deep roots in Imperia; there was no benefit in shifting their center of operations. Not to mention, even Old Mr. Yeats was coming over...
Estelle understood. "There’s really no need to go to such lengths for me."
"Estelle," Quentin interrupted, "the Yeats Family won’t interfere with your decisions, but by the same token, you shouldn’t interfere with the family’s decisions, right?
"The family’s decision to stay in Crestfall could be for you, or it could be for business. It all depends on how you want to look at it. So please, don’t harbor any undue guilt over this, or else Grandpa will be heartbroken. Okay?"
Estelle froze for a moment. When Quentin mentioned that the Yeats Family was relocating to Crestfall, she had a premonition. Because the family and Old Mr. Yeats wanted to officially acknowledge her, but she had grown up in Crestfall. Her career and her life were entirely rooted here, and neither the old man nor Quentin could bear to make her leave. So, they decided to come to her instead.
But they didn’t want to saddle her with any psychological burden. Therefore, the family kept it quiet, refusing to state their true motives outright. Instead, they simply declared it as a business decision and wouldn’t allow anyone to veto it.
The Yeats Family was taking care of her feelings, while also laying the groundwork for the future. If the collateral branches of the family found out that the main branch shifted its focus solely for Estelle’s sake, they wouldn’t resent Old Mr. Yeats. Instead, they would aim their resentment at the newly returned eldest daughter.
Quentin had considered everything thoroughly. "Estelle, the Yeats Family is shifting its focus to Crestfall strictly for better development. So, let’s not speak of what you just said again."