Before the servants could respond, a tall, well-built figure stepped into view.
When she saw who it was, Mrs. Ryder's eyes lit up. She jumped up from her seat and rushed over to greet him. "Christan! What are you doing back?!"
"Mom." Christan gave her a gentle hug and smiled. "I was missing everyone. Thought I'd come home to see you all."
"You could've at least called ahead! I would've had the kitchen make all your favorite dishes!"
Christan glanced at the long rosewood dining table. "This looks great. I can eat all of it."
With that, he made his way to the empty seat beside his father, greeting the family as he walked over.
Grandpa Bryan and Mr. Ryder both nodded slightly in acknowledgment, without much expression.
Sensing the tension in the room, Christan acted like he didn't notice a thing and said cheerfully, "As soon as I walked in, I heard Mom talking about how good the soup is. I have to try it for myself and see what the fuss is about."
Mrs. Ryder immediately served him a bowl.
As she handed it to him, Christan looked up, and she quickly gave him a look.
He gave a barely noticeable nod, then lowered his head and took a sip, acting like nothing had happened. "Wow, that's delicious! You don't get soup like this out there. Grandpa, Dad, Mom-you all need to try this!"
He even reached out and nudged Grandpa Bryan's bowl a bit closer to him.
The old man furrowed his brows and looked down at the bowl. After a pause, he finally picked up his spoon.
Everyone quietly let out a breath of relief and picked up their own spoons.
Dinner went on, with Christan deliberately making small talk to keep the mood light.
After the meal, Grandpa Bryan clasped his hands behind his back and headed upstairs.
Mr. Ryder shot a glare at Celia "Look what you've done! You made your grandfather so mad he could barely eat!"
Mrs. Ryder quickly stepped in front of her daughter. "Celia knows she messed up! Look at her-she hasn't been eating or sleeping, and she hasn't even dared to leave the house. She's already suffering enough."
"Hmph! And you still have the nerve to defend her? This is all her own doing-she brought this on herself!"
Celia's face twisted, and her shoulders began to shake-she was about to cry again.
Christan quickly stepped in, trying to mediate. "Dad, Celia's still young. She doesn't know any better. Don't be so harsh on her."
"She doesn't know any better? Then how does she know how to fall in love behind our backs?!"
"I wasn't dating him!" Celia shot back, clearly upset.
"Oh, now you're talking back?!" Mr. Ryder was furious, pointing right at her. "You weren't dating him, huh? You were secretly in love! You liked him-he didn't like you! What a disgrace to the Ryder family! Do you know how much embarrassment you've brought us? And now the whole family has to suffer for your foolishness!"
Normally, Mr. Ryder spoiled Celia the most.
But now, in a fit of rage, his harsh words hit her like a slap in the face. Unable to bear it, Celia buried herself in her mother's arms, crying her heart out.
Mrs. Ryder, heartbroken for her daughter, started tearing up too.
Christan frowned. "Dad! Please calm down. It's not worth getting yourself worked up like this."
Mr. Ryder's face was livid. "It's not me I'm worried about-it's your grandfather! He's old, he can't take stress like this anymore! You saw him-he barely touched his food!"
Bryan wasn't just the head of the family, he was also a highly respected figure in the entire entertainment industry across Vernon.
Mr. Ryder had idolized him since he was a child.
Seeing his father upset over something like this made his anger toward Celia even worse.
Christan gently placed a hand on his father's shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll go talk to Grandpa."
Mr. Ryder sighed. "Your grandfather's always had a soft spot for you. Maybe he'll listen if you talk to him."
"I'll do my best."
He climbed the stairs, his long legs taking two steps at a time.
At the end of the hall on the right, a door was slightly ajar, warm light spilling out into the corridor.
Christan stood at the doorway and knocked gently.
A moment passed before a deep voice responded, "Come in."
He pushed the door open and saw Bryan, wearing reading glasses, focused intently on a stone on the display shelf.
Through his lenses, he glanced at Christan and said quietly, "Here to lecture me?"
Christan smiled. "Not at all. I know you're the most easygoing one in the house-you wouldn't let something like this get to you. I just wanted to join you for a bit of gemstone appreciation."
"Oh?" The old man raised an eyebrow. "Since when are you interested in gemstone?"
"Hmm... probably started this morning."
As he spoke, he thought back to that scene with Serena at the apartment entrance. He remembered she had an invitation to a stone auction in her hand.
He walked over and bent down to look at the stone on the shelf. "Honestly, this just looks like an ordinary rock to me."
"A gemstone is, essentially, just a type of rock. What sets it apart is its internal structure, density, and color. To the untrained eye, it's hard to distinguish from an ordinary stone."
Bryan switched on a high-powered flashlight and examined the stone closely.
Christan frowned as he watched, muttering, "I heard there's this thing in the stone world called 'gambling on stones.' Since the gemstone is hidden inside the raw stone and covered by a weathered layer, you can't actually see what's inside. People have to guess based on the outer appearance and make bids accordingly-it's just like gambling. One cut and you either strike it rich or lose everything. They say plenty of people have gone bankrupt doing this!"
"You don't know much about gemstone," the old man snorted. "But you seem to know quite a bit about gambling."
Christan scratched his head. "Don't tease me, Grandpa."
Then he added, more sincerely, "Grandpa, you're a legend in the gemstone world-have you ever misjudged a stone?"
Bryan paused, his eyes darkening slightly. "Rarely. But... even I have my off days."
"Oh?" Christan's interest was immediately piqued.
Just like his father, he deeply admired his grandfather. In his eyes, there was nothing the old man couldn't do.
"Grandpa, tell me-when was the last time you made a mistake?"
With a faint scoff, the old man didn't even look up. "It's been nearly ten years since I got one wrong... but unfortunately, that streak ended today."
"Today?!" Christan's eyes widened in disbelief.
***