Pedro Langley quickly got the hang of it after fiddling with it a bit. Amid the swirling snow, he controlled the mechanical drone to dance over the open ground, with two red cloths soaring freely to convey best wishes to the birthday star. "How long can it fly?" Pedro Langley asked. "About thirty minutes." Just as Nora Scott’s words fell, Pedro Langley noticed that the drone announced it was out of power and automatically returned to land. The two looked at each other in dismay. A moment later, Nora Scott drooped her eyes, "I played with it for a while before you came." She had spent a lot of time getting it to land at a certain point for a cool approach, depleting the battery in the process. Pedro Langley slightly twitched his lips, not feeling disappointed, as he watched the drone fly back, land, and picked it up to play with. Time was likely limited, so Nora Scott hadn’t arranged a grand spectacle; the drone’s size and weight fell within the civilian range. But, when he touched the wooden drone and felt its texture, Pedro Langley’s heart skipped a beat, assailed by an indescribable feeling. Traditional mechanical techniques combined with modern technology, even the manufacturing materials had been changed to wood... though flashy and impractical, it had all the necessary features, along with transformations of form... The thing is, she made this within two weeks. Suddenly, he thought about how Nora Scott had been going out early and coming back late over the past two weeks, and her rare appearances at Fenton University... Pedro felt an inexplicable joy and satisfaction. She had spent two weeks researching this drone, as a birthday gift for him. "How many people did you enlist to help?" Pedro Langley asked casually, while fiddling with the drone. "One?" Pedro Langley was surprised. "Uh-huh." Nora Scott seemed quite calm, "Benefiting from previous efforts. The entire system uses a set template." Even with a template, for two people to completely change the materials and form and achieve such results in a week’s time is fantastical. Knowing that Nora Scott didn’t regard this as a big deal, Pedro Langley held back from saying anything more. The front slope was facing the wind, which felt a bit chilly; Pedro Langley received the gift, worrying Nora Scott might catch a cold, and just as he was about to suggest leaving, he caught sight of her expression of astonishment and evasion, and stopped. In the next moment, Nora Scott suddenly leaned towards him, grabbed Pedro Langley’s hand, and without any explanation, pulled him toward some bushes on the side. The hand covering his was cold, the skin tender and soft. Pedro Langley did not resist, letting her pull him along. Until they were hiding behind a tree, with large clumps of weeds and shrubs in front, which might not have been enough to hide them completely, but with Nora Scott pulling Pedro Langley to squat down, they blended completely with the surrounding greenery. You might not find them even if you looked frantically. "Why the urgency as if someone’s dug up an ancestral grave?" Pedro Langley estimated it was these two making Nora Scott so alert as he spotted two figures walking up the path on the slope, and he fixed his eyes to examine them closely. An old man in his seventies, wearing a straw hat and a cape, appearing amiable but full of spirit. Despite his grounded demeanor, you could still detect a touch of uniqueness. Following him was a young man about thirty, with a crew cut and a square face, looking serious and meticulous. In his hand were two fishing rods and a bucket with water splashing inside, intermittently revealing a glimpse of a fish tail. "That old man, so annoying, acting all familiar. If he sees us, nobody can leave without chatting for at least half a day." Nora Scott’s voice was quite low. Fearing Pedro Langley wouldn’t hear, Nora Scott intentionally leaned closer, almost speaking right into his ear. The sound, along with the north wind, poured into his ear, making Pedro Langley feel every little hair in his ear can be clearly sensed, softly stirring, tugging at his heart. Pedro Langley didn’t move, only whispered, "You know people here too?" Still caught up in the avoidance mood, Nora Scott pursed her lips, "He lives in the village. There’s a river nearby good for fishing. I come here to fish when free, and he often comes too; meeting so often, we eventually got to know one another." And because of this acquaintance, she exchanged two sets of properties for a Hall Master position. The two figures approached, and their conversation fell clearer. "Old Hall Master, Scott family sent an invitation. After the new year, it’s Aaron Scott and Old Master Scott’s birthday. Will you go?" The voice that first became clear was the young man’s. The old man was walking with hands behind his back, his face changed at the words, the genial friendliness abruptly disappeared, replaced entirely by irascible anger, "Go to what! Not going! That old sly fox, how is he not dead yet? Not waiting quietly at home to die but has the face to plan a birthday banquet? Does he really think the younger generation doesn’t know about his dirty deeds?" Pedro Langley marveled at the old man’s sudden change of expression: No wonder he and Nora Scott could have such talks, a kindred spirit indeed. But, Scott family, birthday, sly old fox? Feeling there might be some connection with Nora Scott, Pedro Langley covertly glanced aside only to find Nora Scott’s eyes brightened suddenly, gone was the lazy boredom, replaced by focused listening. Being too engrossed, she not only hadn’t let go of his hand but unconsciously held it tighter. Her cold temperature gradually transmitted, like electric current reaching his heart, yet ending with a surge of boiling heat. Pedro Langley stiffened, not moving an inch. "..." It’s true that not many people know," the young man continued in a stiff tone, unmoved. Without solid evidence and being suppressed by the Scott family, apart from the well-informed Biel Hall, indeed not many knew. The old man grumbled discontentedly, "That old bastard, if it weren’t for him, little Shici wouldn’t have gone to steal Elder Easton’s drafts, and the father-daughter wouldn’t have fallen out." "..." The young man who didn’t know the specifics back then pursed his lips into a tight line, saying nothing. Meanwhile, upon hearing the words "Elder Easton" and "drafts," Nora Scott instinctively leaned closer towards Pedro Langley, her shoulder brushing against his, as she slightly tilted her head, her hair brushing past his cheek and ear. Pedro Langley’s nose wing twitched, catching the faint fragrance of her hair lotion, rather pleasant. He then bowed his head, lowering a bit more. The old man changed the topic, asking, "How’s that girl Nora Scott been lately?" "Quite peaceful, not causing trouble. But, Elder Easton wants her to return to the Scott family." "Return to the Scott family?" The old man’s brows wrinkled into a knot, "What’s wrong with him? His health is like that, and he still wants to push Nora Scott into the fire pit?! With the rotten demeanor of the Scott family, what good can happen if she returns?!" The young man quickly said, "Ernesto Scott’s family. Ernesto Scott hasn’t openly broken with the Scott family but is almost like he’s left." "Hmph, couldn’t protect his wife back then, now can protect his daughter?" The old man became more agitated the more he thought about it. "Ernesto Scott repeatedly assured Elder Easton, history will not repeat itself." The young man replied, "Additionally, Miss Scott is not someone easily taken advantage of..." Their voices grew further and further... A little further away, they could see two receding figures but could no longer hear what they were saying. The two crouching behind the bushes, not only Nora Scott, the subject of their talk but even Pedro Langley, who was eavesdropping, felt as though they had watched a drama, quite dazed. The amount of information... is substantial. Looking at Nora Scott, whose brows were now shadowed with gravity, Pedro Langley too understood: likely it was the first time Nora Scott heard these things as well.