Sometimes, those foolish men always seem to have some indescribable obsession with long hair. Anyway, Logan Sullivan felt like his soft spot had been hit dead center in an instant. He stared blankly at William Sherman for a long time, then reached out his salty pig hand and carefully stroked William Sherman's hair. Holding his chest, he muttered, “B-beautiful, so, so, so beautiful. I feel like my life is complete.”

William Sherman loosened his grip on his shoulder with his fingers. Logan Sullivan gradually let the silly look fade from his face, fell silent for a moment, then frowned slightly and continued, “But I think, since I grew up with that fat cat Darrin Grant, if one day it betrays me, runs off with a little female cat, at most I’d just stop acknowledging it. I’d never actually do anything to it.”

William Sherman blinked, not quite understanding how the topic had suddenly jumped to cats eloping.

“If I really was entrusted by Ironhorn to look after his descendants, and watched generation after generation of the dragon clan grow from little worms into mighty dragons soaring ninety thousand miles, I’d rather poke a hole in my own hand than blind the dragon’s eyes and drive it to its death.” Logan Sullivan paused, then suddenly said firmly, “I absolutely did not blind the dragon’s eyes, and there’s no way I was the one who caused Mount Severance to collapse.”

“The judge came to fool me with shameless lies—hardly a word of truth. When I was on the mountain fooling them, I was just guessing and bluffing too. Tell me, what I saw in Primewood, how much of it was real and how much was fake? Who made me see it?” Logan Sullivan hooked his finger around a lock of William Sherman’s hair, a slight smile on his lips but his eyes turning cold. After a while, he said softly, “Hey, darling, tell me again what happened after I met you in Declan Grove.”

William Sherman smiled gently and said in a low voice, “It’s nothing. Back then, I didn’t understand anything. You were very good to me, took me to visit famous mountains and rivers, wandering here and there. It’s a pity that Lifesmith hadn’t mended the sky yet. You always said that with endless torrential rain, even the beautiful land and rivers weren’t worth seeing. But I didn’t mind. That was the best scenery I’d ever seen in my life.”

“Endless torrential rain, even the beautiful land and rivers weren’t worth seeing”—it sounded just like a casual complaint. Logan Sullivan frowned, thinking that if he really had gone down a dark path and planned to overturn heaven and earth, he definitely wouldn’t have been in the mood to take a mysterious little beauty sightseeing.

“Later, I was the one who elevated your divinity,” Logan Sullivan said.

William Sherman smiled, “Don’t keep dwelling on it. Someone like me was never accepted by heaven and earth. You did it to save me, to let me be reborn from a place of great disrespect. You didn’t wrong me—I’m grateful to you.”

As William Sherman spoke, he leaned down and gently kissed Logan Sullivan’s temple, took his hand, and said softly, “The days I spent with you, even if I lived and died in a single day, I’d be happy.”

“Pah, nonsense,” Logan Sullivan interrupted him. “After Lifesmith mended the sky, I used the The Four Saints to seal the four pillars of heaven. That’s when I left you… Did you die?”

William Sherman’s hand stiffened for a moment, then he hugged Logan Sullivan tightly.

“Why…” Logan Sullivan murmured, “Was it all for Lifesmith in the end?”

A fleeting shadow crossed William Sherman’s face, making him look a bit gloomy for a moment. Unfortunately, Logan Sullivan caught it. He immediately dropped his previous thoughts, hooked William Sherman’s chin with his finger, and said, “Don’t be upset. I was just asking. In my eyes, you’re much more beautiful than Lifesmith. Come on, little beauty, tell your husband—how did you seduce me with your youthful looks back then?”

William Sherman pulled the blanket over him, glared at him a little awkwardly, as if wanting to righteously scold him for talking nonsense. But when his gaze landed on Logan Sullivan’s collarbone, still marked with traces of intimacy, he seemed to remember something else. His eyes shifted, his ears turned red, he opened his mouth, and finally stammered, “…I’m going downstairs for a bit.”

With that, he quickly stood up, grabbed the laundry ticket from the table, and rushed out to pick up the clothes.

Logan Sullivan pressed his still sore waist, feeling all sorts of indescribable emotions.

After a while, he got up, washed up, took out a plate of food that William Sherman had heated in the microwave, and while eating, pulled out his phone: “Hey Dad, are you free tomorrow? I’ll bring William Sherman over to see you.”

As he said this, there was no joy on his face; his expression was so cold it seemed like ice shards might fall off.

Chapter 80 Soulbound Lamp …

As expected, Mr. Sullivan Sr. wasn’t home again, making Mrs. Sullivan feel quite apologetic. She kept explaining, “He really was called away by a phone call at the last minute, it’s true.”

With William Sherman’s temperament, of course he didn’t mind. Logan Sullivan smiled and, for once, didn’t say anything. The two of them hurriedly ate a meal at Sullivan Family and then left.

At the time, Logan Sullivan was so flustered by Primewood that he didn’t even notice—what kind of father, knowing his son’s same-sex partner was upstairs, would act all dignified and aloof, saying, “He’s not ready, let’s meet another time”?

It’s not like it’s a blind date—what’s there to prepare? Does he need to go home, organize his property deeds, and pass the civil service exam first?

Clearly, he just didn’t want to see William Sherman.

Why? Was it that he didn’t want to, or didn’t dare?

Before leaving, Logan Sullivan went into his own room and took out a small, old wooden box. Mrs. Sullivan asked curiously, “Isn’t that what you used to play with as a kid? Why haven’t you thrown it out? What are you taking it out for?”

“Sharing childhood memories with your lover—old married couples like you two, who are sick of each other, wouldn’t understand.”

…Later, because of that comment, Logan Sullivan was literally chased out by his mom.

That day happened to be Western Valentine’s Day. The streets, which had been a bit deserted due to the Spring Festival holiday, suddenly became lively again. The flower girl, who had just walked past them without a glance, was called back by Logan Sullivan waving: “Hey, miss, come back. How many flowers do you have?”

The flower girl glanced at them in surprise, then smiled, “I have as many as you want. I’m selling for a flower shop. If it’s not enough, I can go back to the shop and get more for you.”

Logan Sullivan: “Then give me five thousand first…”

“Sorry, sorry, he’s joking.” William Sherman quickly covered Logan Sullivan’s mouth and dragged him away.

Logan Sullivan struggled to poke his head out from William Sherman’s arm: “I still want to buy something, wait, wait!”

William Sherman opened the car door and shoved him in without giving him a chance to argue.

Logan Sullivan half-jokingly complained, “Don’t you know how to be romantic?”

William Sherman retorted, clutching his stomach, “…Do you?”

Logan Sullivan said, full of spendthrift energy, “I want to buy thousands of them, cover the hood and trunk, and marry you.”

William Sherman, probably bullied by him all day long, had basically stopped exploding in silence and instead became a little twisted in silence. He took off his glasses, awkwardly wiped the white mist from them, pretended to be casual, and finally managed to raise the flag of resistance—he said, trying to sound calm, “I thought you were going into the flower wholesale business—anyway, I should be the one marrying you. You just said yesterday you’d take my surname today.”

Logan Sullivan, used to being the one in control, had never been hit back like this except for that one drunken mishap. He was stunned on the spot.

…Of course, he didn’t know that before William Sherman managed to say that line, he’d silently rehearsed it three times in his head like Charles Gray.

But the old rascal quickly recovered, shamelessly pretending to unbutton his shirt: “Fine, I’ll take your surname, let’s have car sex, hubby. You don’t have to do anything, just lie back and enjoy, I’ll take good care of you.”

William Sherman snapped, “Logan Sullivan!”

Logan Sullivan: “Here.”

William Sherman: “How can you… how can you be so shameless?”

Logan Sullivan braced his hands on either side of the car seat, grinning cheekily, “You haven’t even seen me at my most shameless.”

William Sherman finally got angry out of embarrassment, his face darkened. He grabbed Logan Sullivan by the collar, pulled him close, and stared at him, enunciating each word: “Do you know this is a public street? Do you know people will see if they walk by? Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to gouge out the eyes of everyone who’s ever been with you, everyone who’s ever seen you?”

Logan Sullivan: “…”

After a long moment, Logan Sullivan shrank back and muttered, “Well, actually, I was just joking, just joking, I didn’t mean anything by it. There’s something serious to do.”

William Sherman started the car without a word. Logan Sullivan rubbed his nose, sat quietly, and opened the little box he’d brought from home. From a pile of childhood junk, he found something like a small radio, then took a box of tiny screwdrivers from the car’s toolkit and started tinkering with the gadget.