CHAPTER 46: CHAPTER 46: MARRIAGE REGISTRATION (PART 2)

"But he did it to help me, there were reasons; it wasn’t taking advantage of anyone." Holly Crowe anxiously took a step forward.

"Even if there were reasons, he still didn’t keep a clean slate," Old Master Sinclair glanced at her, "How will his wife feel if she finds out in the future?"

"Little girl, The Sinclair Family has its own rules. You are neither a Sinclair member nor the second son’s wife, so this doesn’t concern you. Please leave."

Saying this, he gave the butler a look.

Holly clenched her fists and looked over to Blake Sinclair, who happened to look up at her as well.

He didn’t argue, a faint smile lingering on his lips, as if he was the one comforting her instead.

This made Holly feel worse; his composure deepened her guilt even more.

"The punishment... what is it...?" Her voice trembled slightly.

"Copy the family rules a hundred times, take thirty strokes of the cane."

Old Master Sinclair looked at Blake Sinclair, his face stern, "The second son has already copied the rules; now it’s time for the remaining thirty strokes."

Thirty strokes!

What kind of feudal system is this!

He wasn’t even allowed to eat, had to copy family rules, and now he was to be caned.

Holly remembered Blake Sinclair’s slightly trembling right hand and the visibly reddened fingers; it turned out these were from copying the family rules.

"No."

Holly loudly protested, but no one paid her any attention.

The butler was already approaching with a cane as thick as her arm, intimidating, and she wondered how anyone could endure thirty of those strokes.

But Blake Sinclair didn’t say a word; he just silently knelt down.

His knees hitting the floor made a dull thud.

The moment his knees hit the ground, Holly felt a sharp pain in her heart, tears almost falling.

"No."

She rushed over, trying to pull him up, but the butler held her back.

Blake looked up at her, gently wiping her tears with his thumb, "Don’t cry, it doesn’t hurt."

"No!" Holly’s tears fell even more fiercely, unable to say anything else.

The cane is so thick! Shirley Sinclair even said he hadn’t eaten for days...

"No!"

Old Master Sinclair said nothing, taking the cane and walking behind Blake Sinclair.

He glanced at Holly, "Young girl, this scene is not for you to see."

He instructed the butler, "Take her out."

Saying this, he raised his hand.

The cane sliced through the air, landing on Blake Sinclair’s back with a loud "thwack."

Blake’s back arched suddenly, muscles tensed under his shirt, he gritted his teeth, a low grunt escaping the depths of his throat.

Holly’s heart wavered at the sight, struggling to free herself from the butler’s grasp, but held tightly.

One stroke after another.

As it continued, Blake’s breathing grew heavier, yet he still didn’t utter a word, silently enduring.

Holly felt intensely uncomfortable watching.

After an unknown number of strokes, he suddenly went limp, swaying to one side, but managed to brace himself with his hand before collapsing completely.

Looking up, he met Holly’s eyes, and astonishingly, he still managed a faint smile, trying to reassure her.

But the cold sweat on his forehead twisted Holly’s heart painfully.

"Stop, stop." She cried out repeatedly.

But the only answer was the sound of the cane hitting skin.

Blake, drawing labored breaths, looked to the butler with resolve, "Quickly take her out."

He then turned to Holly, his gaze heartbreakingly tender, "Go find Laurel Sinclair, have her dry your hair before going home, okay?"

Why, even now, was he still concerned about her?

Holly sobbed, shaking her head violently, her vision almost blurring.

Seeing Old Master Sinclair lifting the cane for another strike, Holly found strength from nowhere, breaking free from the butler’s grip and rushing to shield Blake.

"Stop! Blake saved his wife! He’s not wrong!"

The cane hung mid-air.

The atmosphere fell silent.

Holly’s tears fell one by one on Blake’s hand, causing it to tremble.

He slowly lifted his head, seeing Holly’s red eyes, hearing her trembling voice, "I am his wife, he saved me, he’s not wrong..."

The hand holding the cane slowly lowered, Old Master Sinclair narrowed his eyes.

"Young girl, are you serious about this? This is not a game; it concerns your entire life. You must think it through!"

Holly looked at Blake’s pale face.

She knew, once she agreed today, her life would be tied to Blake Sinclair’s.

Could she let go of her past with Zion Pence, and what about Blake? Would he care?

During these few seconds of thought, the hearts of all three present trembled slightly.

Unnoticed by Holly, Blake’s hand on the side tightened, Old Master Sinclair’s grip on the cane tensed and loosened, even the butler held his breath.

Blake squeezed his hand tight, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability, "If you don’t want to..."

"Blake, do you want to?" Holly interrupted him.

"..."

Blake was stunned, was she asking his opinion?

She wasn’t just perfunctory, or merely appeasing the elderly; she was sincerely seeking his desire.

Inexpressible joy surged through him, he could hardly contain the smile tugging at his lips, he could only grasp her hand tightly.

He, could not wish for more.

Holly saw him not speaking, moved a little closer, the scent of jasmine shampoo lingering at her nose, "Blake, if you don’t speak, I’ll take it as your consent."

After speaking, she looked at Old Master Sinclair, nodding solemnly.

Old Master Sinclair’s tense back relaxed, discreetly letting out a breath.

He set down the cane, his tone softening considerably, "In that case, the second son need not be punished."

Holly breathed a sigh of relief, her heart finally settling.

She carefully helped Blake up, seating him in a nearby chair.

He seemed a bit weak, leaning half his weight against her once seated. Holly could feel his slight trembles, unsure whether they were from pain, or something else.

Old Master Sinclair seemed calm now, sitting at the tea table, leisurely pouring himself a cup, sipping.

"Young girl, our Sinclair family is always reasonable. Tomorrow, you and the second son shall get your marriage certificate, consider it our promise to you."

Holly hadn’t anticipated it happening so soon, pausing.

"What, unwilling?" The old man raised an eyebrow, his tone holding a tense testing.

"No, tomorrow is fine."

Holly thought for a moment; her ID card should be in the car.

Thankfully, getting the certificate no longer required a household register, otherwise she’d have to explain to her family.

Old Master Sinclair nodded in satisfaction, standing up, "Then you’ll stay here tonight, head out for the certificate in the morning."

After saying this, he walked out slowly, hands behind his back, the butler following closely.

Holly watched the old man’s retreating figure, furrowing her brows unconsciously.

Did she hear wrong just now?

Did the old man hum a tune as he was leaving?

She felt something was off, but before she could ponder, a restrained groan came from beside her.

"Ugh..."

It was Blake’s voice.

Holly’s heart tightened, her scattered thoughts quickly returning, turning to him immediately.

"What’s wrong? Did you get hurt somewhere?"

Blake seemed paler, the hand clutching hers trembling too.

Blake leaned against her shoulder, gripping her hand a bit tighter, "It’s okay, don’t worry."

The two met each other’s eyes, and in the face of their mutual gaze, a subtle atmosphere quietly unfolded.

The butler approached with a medicine box, smiling, "Second Madam, perhaps you should first go apply medicine with the Second Young Master."

Holly’s ears flushed red at the sound of "Second Madam."

Unsure whether to respond or not.

Blake could no longer hide the smile in his eyes, taking the medicine box from the butler, pulling Holly’s hand, his voice gentle.

"Let’s go, Mrs. Sinclair."