Chapter 237
"How about you two play a match?" My dad, who loved the drama, suggested with a smile.
"Dad!" I quickly spoke up, trying to stop him.
But Leopold was the first to agree.
"Since Mr. Wipere wants to watch, as a junior, I naturally must oblige. Mr. Guise, please."
His tone was calm, but his gaze and posture radiated provocation.
The curve on Ethan's lips became more pronounced, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Mr. Percy, please enlighten me."
My heart sank. Seeing I couldn't stop them, I had no choice but to let them play.
My dad, as if oblivious to their visual confrontation, happily yielded his seat.
"Ethan, come sit here."
"Thank you."
After expressing his gratitude, Ethan took the seat graciously.
My dad pulled my mom aside, and we watched from the sidelines.
The game began.
Right from the opening, Leopold seized the center position—decisive and clean, with a domineering air.
Ethan glanced at him and gently placed his piece beside the center.
Back and forth, the pieces gradually filled the board.
Leopold's pieces slowly pressured Ethan's, but Ethan showed no sign of anxiety, steadily building his position as if accumulating strength.
I didn't understand the game that well, but when I saw my dad's expression shift from interest to seriousness, and he actually stood up to examine the board closely, I knew the match had reached a critical phase. Any next move would be crucial.
One mistake would be irreversible.
Leopold's turn.
He picked up a piece and placed it in Ethan's territory without hesitation.
"Leo, why place it there? Isn't that a dead end!" My dad couldn't help exclaiming.
But Leopold said, "It's not a dead end."
My dad stroked his chin, studying the board carefully, then immediately smiled. "Desperate times call for desperate measures—brilliant move."
Ethan held a piece, pondering for a moment before quickly placing it beside Leopold's. Instantly neutralizing Leopold's offensive.
After watching, my dad nodded repeatedly. "Ethan's perception is also formidable. He reversed the situation in one move. Now it'll be a tough battle."
Ethan smiled modestly. "You're too kind. I was just lucky."
After glancing at where Ethan had placed his piece, Leopold sneered. "Mr. Guise, you're going to lose."
Ethan's smile froze on his face, his tone turning dark. "Isn't Mr. Percy's judgment a bit premature?"
Leopold's lips curved slightly, the arc almost mocking.
"This..." My dad also looked confused, widening his eyes to continue watching.
My mom and I understood even less.
But I knew Leopold never spoke idly. If he could reveal Ethan's disadvantage so directly, it meant he was ninety percent certain.
The game entered its most brutal phase. Ethan's moves became noticeably slower.
The hospital room fell so silent that only the crisp sound of pieces hitting the board remained.
Each sound seemed to strike against one's heart.
After a long period of calculations and struggles, the game ended.
Leopold won with a clear advantage.
Ethan had lost.
"Magnificent!" After watching, my dad applauded repeatedly, laughing. "The last time I witnessed such brilliant play was thirty years ago. I never expected you youngsters to have such superb chess skills. I'm thoroughly convinced of my defeat."
After Leopold offered a modest response, he turned to hold my hand. "You've been standing so long—do your knees hurt? Should I massage them?"
Hearing him say this out of the blue, my face immediately burned. "I'm fine. Don't move."
In front of my parents and Ethan, how could he say such things without even blushing?
"Massage?" My mom seized on the key point. "When did Leo learn massage?"
Leopold, apparently oblivious to my discomfort, smiled. "Last time when Cindy was injured, I specifically learned."
My mom understood. "I see. Teach me later—if Cindy or James has leg discomfort, I can help ease it too."
"No problem." Leopold agreed with a smile.
Just then, Ethan suddenly stood up.
He first glanced at me, then, barely maintaining his smile, said to Leopold, "Mr. Percy's calculations are truly impressive. I look forward to our next match."
Then he nodded slightly to my parents. "Mr. Wipere, Mrs. Wipere, I have something to attend to shortly. I'll take my leave now and visit again tomorrow."
My dad was absorbed in studying the board and couldn't respond.
My mom quickly replied, telling him to drive carefully.
I wanted to say something too, but he hurriedly left.
Leopold snorted coldly, then said to my mom, "Mrs. Wipere, I've already asked Brady. He said Mr. Wipere's and my injuries have recovered enough to continue recuperating at home."
"Really?" My mom was delighted. "Though staying at the hospital is convenient, it's still not as comfortable as home. It'd be even better if we could be discharged today."
I'd also had enough of the hospital, but Leopold's face still had bandages. I was a bit concerned. "You don't get to decide that. We need Brady to examine you again."
Leopold nodded. "He's already on his way."
A few minutes later, Brady arrived at the room to re-examine my dad and Leopold.
"Currently, Mr. Wipere's and Leopold's conditions have stabilized, and their injuries have recovered ideally. They can recuperate at home."
"As for Leopold, he can come change his dressings every three days."
Hearing this, Leopold immediately urged Brady to leave.
Brady rolled his eyes at him, then called me to handle the discharge procedures together.
After completing the paperwork, he spoke to remind me.
"Lucinda, I haven't told you before, but Leopold suffered considerable impact in this accident. His internal organs also sustained varying degrees of damage. Though not severe enough to cause bleeding, he must rest properly."
My heart immediately clenched. "What kind of rest does he need?"
"You know his temperament—once he starts working, he forgets everything else. You need to constantly remind him not to overwork or stay up late. He'll only truly take it to heart if you're the one saying it."
"Alright, I'll definitely pay attention."
Originally, Leopold wanted me to return to Pansea Heights with him, but worried about my dad, I brought him back to my parents' home instead.
Leopold's legs hadn't fully recovered yet, and he still needed a wheelchair to get around, so my parents let him stay on the first floor.
Not long after dinner, he had a meeting to chair and went to the study on the first floor.
"Dad, what exactly happened the day of the accident?" I'd wanted to ask this for a while, but with so many people at the hospital, I'd held back.
At this mention, my dad's expression instantly became grave.
"I was actually planning to talk to you about this. That day, right after I sent the drug compounds to my friend, he quickly had news. But he said it wasn't convenient over the phone, so I went out to meet him."
"As soon as we met, he gave me a sealed report and told me to open it only after I got home. But after the accident, I couldn't find that report anywhere. Even the doctors and nurses said they hadn't seen it."
I couldn't help frowning. This accident wasn't just deliberate—it was related to that report.
Who exactly was trying to harm our family?
"Dad, besides Mom and me, who else knew you were going to meet him?"