The Way Back to You

Interlude (4)

Lucas never got to answer his son that night.

Early the next morning, the little boy was still deeply asleep when the young family of four boarded their car and began the long journey to the White Mountains. Nestled securely in his mother’s arms, Lance didn’t wake up even after his father stopped the car inside the Hill family estate.

They were greeted upon arrival by their matriarch, along with two other clan elders and Lucas’ eldest uncle, who was to be the next head of the clan.

Lucas and Lucian went out of the car first to give these people their respectful greetings. After a brief interval wherein the seniors asked after their journey, Lucas finally opened the car’s back door to reveal his wife and younger son, still in the same position as before.

The young father bent down to pick up the sleeping boy, giving Romina the chance to alight as well and likewise give her subdued greetings to the elders.

Despite seeing little Lance in this condition, all four remained more than a bit skeptical of Lucas’ claims about him. If an unscrupulous adult was capable of lying about a serious matter like this, then drugging a small child to create the desired effect was only to be expected of them.

Lucas didn’t care about their doubts or that they seemed to be viewing him with suspicion. He would be the happiest if it turned out in the end that Lance was not the one they were looking for.

In relative silence, the group entered the old mansion, which was empty of other people aside from two of the main branch’s most loyal and trustworthy servants.

None of them could do anything anyway until Lance woke up, so the young family was told to rest and eat something for now. The three elders then excused themselves, and it was understood that they would now prepare for the verification process.

“You could have had your chauffeur drive you here,” Lucas’ eldest uncle commented.

Lucas had just laid his son down on a comfy sofa in the large and opulent living room before sitting by his feet with a soft sigh of exhaustion.

He gave the older man a small, strained smile. “We have no servants under our employ, Uncle Lindon.”

Only after hearing this did Lindon remember: out of the dozens of branches of the Hill family—the new and the old alike—Lucas’ was one of less than a handful who chose to lead largely independent lives.

Before Lance’s condition had worsened to such a worrying extent, Lucas had avoided using his family’s name and power for his personal benefit. This was the natural result of him witnessing how his own mother had turned out due to her excessive reliance on those same things.

Lucas didn’t want to end up an empty husk who couldn’t find any meaning in his own existence. Even when he was younger, he didn’t want to simply accept everything that was being handed to him. Most of what he now had as an adult, he worked hard to attain by himself.

And while he didn’t want to deny his sons their birthright, it was important to him that they first learn how to be self-reliant. Even if one was as lucky as they were, he believed that one’s family should be there only to serve as a safety net.

Given the kind of mindset Lucas was known to have, it would be shocking in the extreme if it was found later that he was just using his own son to gain more power and status for himself.

As Lindon found himself doubting that this was the case, he became far less skeptical regarding Lance. Now, as Lucas, Romina, and Lucian took their meal in the living room because they didn’t want to leave Lance’s side, Lindon began viewing the sleeping little boy with more hope…

For reasons that words alone couldn’t explain, the Hill family’s fortunes were tied closely with their founder. Their records date back to a thousand years, when they were still known by a different surname, and the incredible luck their family enjoyed from back then to this day was well-documented.

Anyone else who chose to read those records would receive no blame for doubting how truthful they were. In fact, there was a considerable number of Hill family members over the centuries who had dismissed everything as ludicrous, thinking that their ancestors were just one-upping each other when it was their turn to fill in the pages.

But for a thousand years, in an unbroken line, every person who had succeeded as the head of the clan proved not only blindly faithful to their blood’s calling but also capable of leading its members to a new height of success and prosperity.

Some individuals may have suffered terrible fates now and then, but as a whole, the Hills had never once experienced a decline in their overall fortunes.

Even so, it wasn’t until two decades ago that nearly everyone who was old enough back then began treating their shared history with the gravity and seriousness it deserved.

For who could have remained skeptical after bearing firsthand witness to a miracle?

And now, it seemed it would also be within his time that another miracle would take place.

Where he lay on the sofa, his small head rested on a cushy pillow, little Lance finally opened his eyes. As they had all been keeping a watchful eye on him, the three adults in the room noticed this at once.

Worried that Lance would find it distressing to wake up somewhere unfamiliar, both his mother and father prepared to soothe him at once.

But the third adult had also inched closer to him, and it was to this man that Lance’s eyes were drawn. Lance was still a toddler the last time he and this granduncle of his met, yet he still thought he recognized the man he was looking at. He was fresh out of his dream world, after all, and he was better able to recollect some details from it.

“Mr. Shan?” Lance called in his thin and quiet voice.

To the others’ shock, Lindon Hill began shedding tears of boundless happiness upon being addressed by that name.

On shaky feet, he approached the child on the sofa and knelt by his side. “I was called that, for a time.” He was smiling past his tears when he went on to say, “Welcome back, young master.”