CHAPTER 248: WHEN HE CALLED HER GRANDMA

Darcy took the tray and carried it into the living room. The porcelain cups clinked gently against the table’s surface, the steam rising faintly from the freshly brewed tea.

Micah followed a few steps behind, a small glass dish of snacks in his hands. He plopped it onto the table with slightly more force than necessary, his brows drawn tighter in a sulky little pout. His lips pushed out, corners twitching in silent protest. Darcy’s calm attitude was really getting on his nerves.

How could he be so composed? So unaffected? Waltzing in the kitchen like it was their dormitory. They were in the Ramsy estate, for crying out loud, a massive mansion that had enough staff to run a boutique hotel. Zhou Ruyan’s sitting room alone looked like it belonged in a museum, with the antique vases, carved wooden screens, and lacquered cabinets displaying old heirlooms. Even the scent in the air was this subtle mix of sandalwood and jasmine tea, the kind of aroma that made you sit up a little straighter.

Micah couldn’t believe it. Not even a flicker of nervousness from Darcy. No awe. It was like nothing could intimidate Darcy.

Micah narrowed his eyes. Not only had Darcy walked in without blinking, but he also had the audacity to enter the kitchen and criticise him!

Micah scowled faintly at the memory. The nerve.

Just minutes ago, Micah had been sweating from the anxiety, not knowing how his grandmother would react to Darcy. And the one responsible for his near breakdown had been making tea like he owned the place.

With an exaggerated huff, Micah sank onto the seat beside Zhou Ruyan. The cushions gave under his weight as he leaned back. His initial nervousness had long since faded. Now, all that remained was this odd annoyance.

Darcy moved smoothly, picking up the teapot. He knelt beside Zhou Ruyan’s seat and poured her a cup. The tea swirled in the delicate porcelain.

"Ma’am," he said politely, his voice low and respectful as he held the cup out to her.

Zhou Ruyan looked at him, her features softening with a flicker of warmth. "Don’t be so formal. Just call me grandma, like Micah does," she said gently.

The change in her tone was subtle but unmistakable. Her eyes lingered on Darcy with something almost maternal.

She had seen the way Darcy looked at Micah earlier, concerned and attentive. She saw how much Darcy cared about his grandson. How much he saw him as the person he was. He knew Micah well. That kind of understanding wasn’t something that anyone could achieve just by passing moments.

She was sure Micah had not met Darcy not long ago. With the way Micah was, he couldn’t hold this huge secret for a long time. So it came down to one conclusion.

"Thanks, grandma," Darcy replied, his voice stiff with uncertainty.

He wasn’t like Micah, who could flash a cheeky smile and charm elders like it was nothing. Darcy was trying. His back was straight, his hands careful, but there was an awkward edge to him, like he wasn’t sure if he was doing it right.

Micah and Zhou Ruyan watched him for a second before Micah cleared his throat, looking away.

Micah had expected to feel strange hearing Darcy call Zhou Ruyan, grandma. Maybe even hurt.

But to his own shock, it didn’t feel strange at all.

He should have been bothered, shouldn’t he? He had spent years being the precious grandson. The only one sitting at this table in this house, pouring tea and chatting about his daily life. This was his place.

And yet, watching Darcy sitting here, calling Zhou Ruyan grandma, it didn’t feel like anything was being taken away from him.

Instead, something was being shared.

Was this what it meant to have a little brother?

Micah tilted his head slightly, thinking.

Had he truly accepted Darcy as a younger brother? So if Darcy called Elina and Jacob, Mum and Dad, someday...would that feel okay?

His lips parted slightly in thought.

He couldn’t understand why in the novel he had reacted so violently to Darcy calling them Mum and Dad. Why was he bitter and angry? Had it been jealousy? Fear?

Was it because he was immature in the novel? No. He was two years older than he was now.

That version of Micah had been too lonely. Too prideful. Too far removed from any kind of connection to handle the truth.

Well, maybe Darcy, in the novel, had been a complete stranger to the fake heir. But now he was his friend.

Zhou Ruyan lifted the cup and took a slow sip. Her lips curled as the taste bloomed on her tongue. "Oh my," she said, nodding in approval. "What a lovely taste."

Micah turned his head, noticing the pleased look on her face. He scrunched his nose. "Grandma, are you saying mine was bad before?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Of course not, dear. But the method your friend had used is a little different. A touch more refined." Zhou Ruyan said, chuckling.

Micah pouted. "But Uncle Lin liked my tea," he mumbled.

Zhou Ruyan raised a brow. "Who’s Uncle Lin?"

Micah straightened, the familiar spark returning to his eyes. "Oh, do you remember the Royal Dragon Pavilion? I got to meet the owner’s family. Uncle Lin is his father. He is like this super famous expert in traditional Chinese medicine. And being from the Royal Dragon Pavilion. He knows the art of making tea. He complimented mine, so it totally counts."

Zhou Ruyan smiled wider, watching him talk.

"I was thinking," Micah continued, "maybe I could introduce you to him. He has these incredible remedies for everything. And his technique in acupuncture is outstanding." Micah got excited and began talking nonstop.

Zhou Ruyan nodded softly, feeling at ease seeing her grandson turning to his usual liveliness.

Darcy’s eyes softened too, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He felt relieved.

He leaned back a little, watching Micah with a smile. Micah was himself again. The test, whatever it had been, was over.

And, Darcy had passed it.