Father and Son

"Joli... come give me a hand," Yorid called out to his son.

"Oh! Coming!" Joli answered immediately.

Joli helped Yorid steady the wooden frame while Yorid, positioned above, hammered the posts into the ground.

"What are we building this trellis for?" Joli asked with a hint of curiosity.

"Growing grapes," Yorid replied. "To make wine later on."

"Father... do you even have time to tend to grapes? What about your work?" Joli couldn't help but ask.

"I retired a long time ago."

Joli opened his mouth but couldn't find the words... It had indeed been a long time since he had returned, and he was completely unaware of this.

Yorid was once an archer in the Guard. Although he couldn't compare to Liana, his marksmanship was exceptional; in his youth, he had been a rather famous prodigy.

Lacking any great strokes of fortune, Yorid had remained diligent and loyal to his post. As time passed, the high spirits of his youth gradually faded... Even geniuses encounter bottlenecks and limits. Soon enough, Yorid's glory days were behind him, and he ceded the stage to the younger generation.

His past honors and radiance were quickly and completely eclipsed by the meteoric rise of Liana, leaving him to fade into the background.

Yet, having a sister like Liana was something Yorid took great pride in.

However, he still pinned his hopes on his son, expecting him to become a dazzling star that shone just as brightly as Liana.

But quite obviously, Joli possessed no such ability. The boy's talent for archery was atrociously bad... Yorid had personally tutored Joli through countless training sessions, yet Joli showed no aptitude that satisfied Yorid.

Even Liana, upon returning some time ago and assessing Joli, had shaken her head in resignation. She advised him to abandon the idea of making Joli an archer and to help him find a different path.

Yorid was unwilling to accept it, but left with no other choice, he eventually came to terms with reality and stopped forcing Joli to study the bow.

Though disappointed, Joli was still his son. Even if he achieved nothing great, living a peaceful and safe life was not a bad thing.

Yet, every time he heard that someone else's child could hit a target from a thousand meters away, or that someone had passed the rigorous Archer's Trial, Yorid would still involuntarily sigh in front of Joli.

"I'm going out into the world to make my own way, Father. Even if I can't wield a bow, I will become an adventurer you can be proud of!"

When Joli had stood before him and said those words, Yorid felt a deep sense of relief and gratification.

Although he wanted to ask him to stay, it didn't seem right to interfere with his child chasing his dreams... Venturing out into the world wasn't a bad thing.

Moreover, as a father, Yorid was not good at expressing his emotions. In Joli's memory, he had always been a stern, cold figure who rarely smiled.

Joli left, and Yorid didn't say much to him.

Joli was gone for a long time... Even by the standards of the Elves' long lifespans, it was a significant period.

Yorid had specifically asked Liana and others to inquire about his son's whereabouts, but it was as if Joli had evaporated from the face of the earth; all news of him vanished.

Yet Yorid always believed that Joli was still alive, working hard in his own way in some corner of the world... He was Joli's father, and no one understood the boy's character better than he did.

"I heard from your aunt that you've become quite formidable now?"

Yorid asked his son casually as he worked on the grape trellis.

"No, no, no!" Joli shook his head repeatedly. "Aunt Liana surely only said that to convince me to come back... My skills are nothing special. I'm nowhere near being a match for an adventurer like Mr. Xia Lun."

Yorid's expression turned a bit strange... If this kid could rival Xia Lun, that would be absurd.

Xia Lun was the legendary Hero who had defeated the Demon King. Although Yorid didn't know how he had been resurrected, there was no doubt that Xia Lun's current power was beyond anything he could imagine.

Noticing the change in his father's expression, Joli seemed to misunderstand the reason. He blushed slightly and sighed with regret. "I'm sorry... Father. I've been away for so long, yet I still haven't made a name for myself. I've disappointed you."

Thud—

Yorid brought the hammer down heavily, driving the hard wooden stake into the soil with a single blow.

"How has life been out there?" Yorid asked his son.

"Um... I found a quiet little village and honed my swordsmanship alone. I trained for a long time, but without a teacher to guide me, I seem to have gone astray. My strength hasn't improved much..." Joli spoke of his experiences over the years with a sense of shame.

"I'm not asking about that." Yorid shook his head. "Were you... happy out there?"

Joli was slightly stunned, then began to reminisce. The villagers had been very friendly to him. After he drove away some swindlers who came to cause trouble, everyone was very grateful, stuffing his arms with vegetables, fruits, and farm produce.

Sometimes, after he finished practicing with his sword, villagers would stand at their doors, smiling and inviting him in for a meal.

Children liked to play and laugh around him, and Joli never found it annoying. In those moments, the sword in his hand had felt lighter and lighter...

"I suppose... I was happy," Joli replied softly.

Yorid nodded. "That is good."

Joli blinked in surprise.

"Will you go out again?"

"Yes... I've gotten used to living in that village, and everyone treats me well... I plan to go out adventuring again once my swordsmanship is a bit stronger."

"Is that so?"

Upon learning that his son would leave again, Yorid sighed softly.

But Joli seemed to interpret this as his father being disappointed in his lack of achievement again, so he spoke up in a panic: "Father, I will soon..."

"Then remember to come home and visit occasionally. At least once every ten years... no, at least once every five years." Yorid interrupted Joli, speaking slowly. "You can also write me letters."

"Ah... okay." Joli agreed, a bit stunned.

Then, Joli began to worry.

Writing letters was fine... but this time, he had returned with Xia Lun and the others. What if he encountered danger on the road when he tried to come back in the future? With his amateurish skills, he had no confidence in his ability to protect himself.

"Mr. Joli, are you building a trellis?"

Mo Lini's voice came from behind.

Joli turned around to see Mo Lini standing there with Lena hiding behind her. The two of them watched Joli and his father working with curiosity.

"Let us help, too."