Skip to content
Novel Catalog
Chapter 79: Steal Something From the Yarwoods
It was 6:00 pm—the rush hour for people getting off work. Cars were bumper-to-bumper on the main roads, but Waterview Alley remained quiet, its narrow paths filled with gossiping locals.
“Did you hear that?” one of the neighbors whispered, eager to share the news.
“What’s going on?” another asked, leaning in.
“The doctor from the opposite hospital was arrested!” the first neighbor replied with a knowing look.
“It’s the Gibsons, isn’t it? They caused trouble last time!” someone else chimed in.
Susan, just back from shopping for groceries, joined the conversation, her voice filled with conviction. “I think they came to bully Mrs. Yates Senior on purpose last time.”
“I think so too!” one of the neighbors added. “It’s been all over the news—the Gibsons are bad! They’ve hurt a lot of patients!”
Another neighbor nodded in agreement. “She even suppresses her colleagues. Mrs. Yates Senior must have suffered under them too!”
Susan raised an eyebrow, looking over at Wynter, who had just returned with the wooden box in hand. “Now you know, but you’ve said something you shouldn’t have in front of Wynter.”
“I’m sure Mrs. Yates Senior hasn’t had any issues here,” another voice added.
“I had a stomachache before and couldn’t afford the hospital treatment,” Susan said. “But Mrs. Yates Senior made me some soup and added something else—I’m not sure what, but it worked! I only needed to pay 50 dollars to cure it!”
Just as they were talking, Wynter stepped into the conversation, her eyes soft as she smiled at the group. “Aunt Susan, what are you all talking about?”
“Oh, Wynter! You scared me!” Susan exclaimed, her enthusiasm growing. “We were just talking about your grandma. Her medicine can cure all our ills!”
Wynter chuckled and placed the wooden box down, her voice gentle. “Did my grandma prescribe medicine for you?”
“It’s diet therapy,” Susan explained. “I know your grandma’s rule—she only helps maintain our health, not cure diseases.”
Wynter nodded, her eyes scanning the gathering. “Why are you all gathered here?”
“They want to apologize to your grandma,” Susan replied, glancing at the neighbors. “But they’re too embarrassed to enter.”
Wynter smiled slightly, always one to maintain an open door. “We’re open for business, so you can all come in as you please.”
The neighbors began to murmur, some already eager to seek out a remedy. “That’s great! I want to ask your grandma to massage my neck!” one of them called out. “It’s been swollen and painful these last few days!”
Wynter responded kindly as she opened the door, her attention briefly diverted to Wolf, who was squatting in the courtyard attempting to light a fire. As soon as he saw her, he sprang up, running toward her with alarming speed. But when their eyes met, he halted abruptly, raising his hands in a questioning gesture, as if wondering what was going on.
“Wolf!” Susan scolded, reaching out to stroke his head. “Where’s your grandma? We’re here for a massage!”
Wolf hated being petted, but he gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to lash out. Instead, he pointed aggressively toward the back of the house.
Susan, unaware of his inner frustration, cheerfully entered, oblivious to the fact that without Wynter there to calm him, Wolf might have knocked her over in irritation.
The neighbors began chatting amongst themselves in the backyard, some eager for a massage, others simply enjoying the familiar bustle of the shop returning to normal. Wynter, ever the caretaker, focused on keeping Wolf in check. Otherwise, with his current mood, he might decide to start digging holes in the floor while carrying the water bucket—a habit he hadn’t shaken.
“I brought you your favorite,” Wynter said, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she opened the black bag and revealed the gifts from the Yarwoods.
When Wolf saw the truffles and cordyceps, his eyes widened in delight. His usual stoic expression cracked as a smile tugged at his lips. He reached for them eagerly but then hesitated, looking at her with a questioning gaze.
“Well, the Yarwoods are very generous,” Wynter said, watching him closely.
Wolf raised an eyebrow, as if asking, So what? Can I have them?
Wynter’s smile faded slightly, and her tone turned more serious. “No, you can’t steal them.”
Wolf tilted his head, narrowing his eyes, as if questioning, Why not?
She gave him a look of warning. “Mr. Yarwood is a bit dangerous,” she said slowly.
Wolf gestured, as if asking if he was more dangerous than her.
Wynter laughed softly. “You can’t compare me to him,” she replied casually, her tone playful but firm.
Wolf’s eyes flickered toward the truffles once more, his interest clear, but his curiosity remained unsatisfied.
She raised an eyebrow, watching him intently. “Wolf, I taught you to obey the rules when you first came here. What did I say?”
Wolf bared his sharp teeth, then gestured his silent agreement: No stealing. No robbing.
Wynter nodded. “That’s right. You can’t steal or rob, let alone eat things you haven’t been given.”
Just as he was about to nod, signaling his obedience, Wynter suddenly pinched his face.
“Why are your teeth growing so fast?” she asked, her expression darkening slightly as she noticed the sharpness of his canines.
Wolf froze, not sure how to respond. Something about her tone unsettled him. She had always been somewhat intimidating, but now, with that look in her eyes, there was something else—something darker.
Wynter’s fingers lingered on his face for a moment longer before she let go, her thoughts momentarily drifting elsewhere. Something’s different about him. I need to keep an eye on this.
