His Wife Calls The Shots
Chapter 241: This Bird is Going to Die

Chapter 241: Chapter 241: This Bird is Going to Die

Chapter 241: The Bird is Going to Die

The object was all alone in the corner, left here forgotten by someone at some point in time.

He picked it up and ran his fingers along the bow arm. He gave it a pull, and the bow had excellent elasticity and the string had great toughness. It was a top-quality bow.

The string was a little worn out; he didn’t know if it was because of this that it was left here.

He scanned around and saw an arrow not far away.

He picked it up. With a fluid-movement, he placed it onto the bow. In two seconds, he aimed at a palm-sized window in his villa in a very standard posture.

His eyes concentrated, and shone sharply.

With a whoosh, the arrow flew out, causing a shockwave, and shot directly at the villa.

Suddenly, a bird happened to fly by.

Alexander Foster’s eyes tensed.

The next second, the bird fell in a straight line and dropped into the grass bush, while the arrow simply followed its original trajectory, went through the window, and landed in his villa.

Brent and Rupert Frost gaped in surprise.

"Milty, you hit it!"

Brent Frost’s face didn’t look good, as if he was about to cry, he dashed out at once, "The bird is going to die!"

Alexander Foster’s brow furrowed.

Watching the backs of the two running kids, his vision blurred, and he heard a desolate female voice from that late summer in his mind saying, "The bird is going to die, it’s all my fault."

...

Six years ago, Harville Temple.

Alexander Foster was counting the days. In the blink of an eye, he had been in this temple for more than half a month due to his eye injury.

At first, it was indeed boring. Later, a little monk appeared who was quite interesting and helped to ease his boredom.

This little "monk" was actually a girl, barely thirteen years old, rather naughty.

Even if he couldn’t see her face, just by her voice and the style of doing things, he could guess that she was an eccentric child.

A few days ago, she came here to secretly pick persimmons, in exchange for a plate of fruit, she played chess with him.

She said she would come again before she left, but it had already been the fifth day, and there was no sign of her.

He temporarily couldn’t see, the silence inside the house and the bird calls outside were starkly contrasting.

There was always a scent of sandalwood in the temple’s guest rooms; at first it was okay, but now he felt nauseated and stifled when he smelled it.

"Ford."

The door opened, and Ford came in, "Ah, Young Master, what do you need? Are you hungry for something?"

"Help me go out for a walk."

Having been here for over ten days, Alexander Foster was very familiar with the environment outside the door, including where the obstacles were. Occasionally, he didn’t need Ford to assist him.

So, when he heard this, Ford reacted, "Young Master, do you want to leave this courtyard?"

"I heard Grandma say there’s a bamboo grove behind the temple. You guide me there for a walk."

Ford nodded in agreement and led him out.

Even if he couldn’t see the scenery, by just listening, it might help to relieve his boredom.

They both stepped outside, and the afternoon sunshine fell on the white gauze in front of Alexander Foster’s eyes, causing him to unconsciously frown.

There was a hint of mild pain in his eyes.

"Young Master, or we should go back. The person who attacked you previously hasn’t been found yet. If there’s an accident, how do I explain to the family?"

Alexander Foster raised his hand to interrupt his worrying, "They won’t come."

Seeing him so determined, Ford didn’t say anything else. Thinking that the monks often passed through the back mountain, he led him forward.

They meandered all the way, finally, it was getting higher.

Alexander Foster could feel the difference in the air. Compared to before, it was fresher.

The ambient sounds around him became richer, bird calls, insect chirping, wind rustling the leaves, even shallow water sounds were all heard.

After a few steps, he suddenly stopped and held Ford’s wrist, "Listen."