Chapter 577 Ch576 Randolph's News

Chapter 577 Ch.576 News from Randolph

Although Randolph said he hated Roland (these two people said this about each other), hated him for always mentioning "dragons", and was jealous that he had won the favor of his sister and deprived an "brother" of what he should enjoy——

Even so.

He still welcomed Roland as a guest at home and hoped that he could visit Beatrice often when he was not busy.

Because every time he showed up, the Taylor family was no longer deserted.

It was as if the flames in the fireplace had heated up a lot.

Usually, Roland and Beatrice would sit in a row, each holding their own tea cups, guarding their own biscuits and puddings, some special pastries that Teresa ordered the kitchen to make. appearance.

Then.

They would go upstairs to paint for a while, leaving Beatrice with some weird 'masterpieces', and the two of them would paint them as red as roses that had just been broken out of the flowerbed.

Then, after washing up, it was time for afternoon tea again.

Sit in a row and eat cookies.

Theresa and Bronte will serve throughout this period, and Randolph may not necessarily be present - but sometimes, even if he is present, he rarely participates in such 'family activities':

I always hold a cigar or a tea cup, sit on the piano stool or a distant sofa, and quietly gaze at this warm picture.

When he saw Beatrice, he saw himself as a child, and saw him and his sister pestering their father.

At that time, the flame in the fireplace was warmer and softer than now. It was softer than the most expensive satin nowadays. It flowed along the pores, all the way to the heart, and then pumped heat throughout the body through the blood vessels.

He was hot all day.

It's annoying to be like a happy pointed stick, showing off the white smoke coming from your head everywhere.

Now…

That's fine.

He once blamed himself, not for his sister's 'illness', but for failing to take good care of the Taylor family's treasures - his too busy life prevented him from accurately switching between the mall and the family. Sometimes, he could A hint of fear and alienation could be seen in Betty's eyes.

Teresa told him privately that a qualified man, brother, should not bring the storm outside into his home and blow on the women who have not seen the frost.

Randolph was deeply sorry for this.

But if he slipped into Betty's room in his nightgown, put his arms around her, watched her paint, and apologized softly, her sister didn't seem to understand why he was apologizing at all.

Those innocent, blue-tinged purple eyes made him even more anxious and painful.

Until Roland showed up.

this…

this…

Damn dragon keepers.

Randolph felt angry and amused at the thought of this.

A fucking broken dragon.

Said it for almost half a year.

If dragons really had a price, Randolph would definitely buy ten of them, park them like a carriage in front of Collins' drug store, and teach him a lesson.

Roland Collins.

What kind of person are you?

Half of the cigar has lost its honey, and the mouth is filled with nutty crunchy aroma from the cut.

Randolph held it between his legs and put it on his knees, quietly admiring the two people laughing in the gentle light of the fireplace.

What he could not find in the shop, in the business, in the smoking ship, in the Holy Cross, or even in the noble, bowing crown, he found it in the wood and the flames of the fireplace.

Cheap and unique in the world.

This is why he doesn't shy away from it and feels comfortable letting Beatrice get in touch with Roland:

It wasn't that he had any selfish motives for getting married, but that he smelled Roland's scent, which was very similar to the scent he treated Beatrice.

Slow and profound.

He communicated with Beatrice in a strange, disrespectful, rude, and even seemingly silly way. And this kind of language that comes from heaven and earth and was originally used by living creatures, Beatrice Taylor can completely receive it - not the voice, the eyes, the movements.

It's feelings.

Just like the maid whom Randolph could not remember whose name he had buried in the garden.

Just like the doctor Roland recommended to him.

Like Victor Sala.

A lot had happened between them, and Randolph had reason to believe, and firmly believe, as he joked: their friendship would last until each other ascended to heaven...or to hell.

so.

He couldn't get around Roland on this matter.

He consulted the ritualists at home and heard them talk about the 'value' of this thing - it was as valuable as the 'secret recipe' and the 'secret technique', and was even harder to find.

The Ritualist can start a bloody battle for it, or use it to hire a High Ring.

This is a real, priceless treasure.

He persuaded Randolph and hoped that he would think more about it. Since this thing is so hard to find, maybe it can be used to 'invest' in a ritualist, or to find a better opportunity for Taylor - if it must be used, it must be 'sold' for a good price?

Randolph said:

Isn't that what I'm doing?

The so-called investment must be aimed at industries you are familiar with, or people you are sure of and familiar with.

Randolph Taylor didn't know what else was more worthy of investment than the man in front of him who was leaning on the sofa trying to teach his sister that "brother's money will grow out of the soil on its own, and if you don't spend it, it will go bad."

There is nothing special about a businessman.

A great businessman only needs a little luck, a normal mind, a little courage, and be careful not to cover up the real "secret" that makes you successful when talking about the above.

He waved to Teresa.

Soon.

The old maid came in small steps.

"Brother should spend more time with his sister."

"I'm afraid I can't stand a dragon breeder chasing debts all day long," Randolph yawned and stood up slowly, "Tell Roland to come to the study after he finishes talking bad about me. I'll wait for him there."

By the time Beatrice was supposed to rest, an hour and a half had passed.

Randolph sat in a high-backed chair flipping through documents, waiting for Roland to come into the room, cut out two cigars, and lit them in a silver box.

On the smooth lacquered wooden table were teapots and cups, as well as some nut pies that were easy to pick up as a bonus.

In order to prevent the servants from disturbing the conversation of the two gentlemen and to prevent them from being hungry and thirsty, Theresa asked the kitchen to bake two extra plates.

(Mainly worried about starving Randolph.)

(Roland's stomach would bulge out after an afternoon tea.)

"I hope you can talk to me about something really important, Randolph."

Roland handed him a spear-shaped one, and he smoked the short and thick one.

"What is really important?"

"Like paying off debts..."

Randolph: ...

"You're almost turning my sister into a little lunatic."

"Mad people are happier than normal people. Let her go crazy, the Taylor family should be able to support a crazy girl."

"After paying off your debt, maybe we can't support her anymore," Randolph rubbed his eyes, pushed the documents on the table aside, and turned his face very slowly, "You should be interested in this matter."

He said.

"Mystical organ."