Mr. CEO, You Look Strangely Familiar

The next morning.

The weather wasn’t very good.

It was gloomy, with the clouds hanging low.

It looked like it was about to rain.

Just as they were about to have breakfast, Mr. and Mrs. Grant arrived together.

Mr. Grant, ecstatic, hurried to sit beside the two darlings. "Quick, let Grandpa have a look at you! Grandpa has missed you to death."

Dylan Grant and Elmer Grant sat obediently, chatting with Mr. Grant.

Mrs. Grant, however, sat awkwardly beside Nora Ainsworth, hesitating to speak. "Nora, with the two children back... well, you have no idea how happy I am. It’s a blessing from heaven for the Grant family."

Nora Ainsworth’s expression was indifferent. "Mm."

"Their grandparents want to see the two children. What do you think...?" Mrs. Grant’s tone was soft, with a hint of ingratiation.

She was being so cautious, constantly watching Nora Ainsworth’s expression. This was something Mrs. Grant had never imagined. She never thought she would one day have to act so obsequiously.

"I respect the children’s decision. If they want to go, they can go. If they don’t, I won’t force them. After all, relationships are built, not assumed. You can’t just take things for granted because you’re an elder."

Mrs. Grant nodded and looked at the two darlings. "My dear grandsons, how about you come back with Grandma and Grandpa to play for a while? You can come back after dinner tonight."

Dylan spoke up. "But Elmer and I believe in repaying a drop of kindness with a gushing spring. It’s not that we can’t go back, but we must have Monty’s permission."

Mrs. Grant was all smiles. "Fine. Where is this Monty? Have him come over. I’m sure he’ll agree."

Dylan said with a grin, "Monty is too lazy, he can’t come over. You’ll have to go ask him in person."

"Fine."

Dylan looked at Elmer. "Go get the blindfold from the hallway."

Mrs. Grant was confused. "What’s the blindfold for?"

Dylan said, "We’re afraid it might scare you. It’s a little ugly."

Mrs. Grant was unconcerned. "I’m a grown woman, what haven’t I seen? Who is this Monty anyway, that you listen to him so much?"

"He saved us."

Nora Ainsworth started to speak, wanting to stop them, but Dylan signaled for his mommy to stay quiet.

"Since he saved our precious grandsons, then I’ll go in person."

Elmer brought the blindfold over and put it on Mrs. Grant.

Then he led her to the backyard.

Back in the living room, Mr. Grant was a little puzzled. "Can that person not walk, or are they paralyzed?"

Elmer shook his head. "It’s not a person."

Mr. Grant asked, "Then what is it?"

"A python."

The word had barely left his lips when Mr. Grant froze in shock. "A... python..."

"Yep."

"Elmer, your grandmother is terrified of snakes! Take me there, I’m afraid she’ll be so scared she’ll end up in the hospital again."

Quentin Grant stood up. "Follow me."

By the time the three of them—grandfather and grandsons—arrived, Dylan and Mrs. Grant had just entered Monty’s enclosure.

"Grandson, can I take it off now?" Mrs. Grant said.

"Mhm, you can."

Mrs. Grant immediately took it off. The instant she did, her blood pressure shot up. "AH!"

She scrambled back a few steps, her face deathly pale with fright. "This is..."

"Grandma, this is who saved us. This is Monty." After speaking, Dylan waved at the python. "Monty, come over and say hi to Grandma!"

"No! Don’t... Dylan, make it go away! Grandma’s scared! AHHH!!!"

She had just gotten the words out when Monty slithered over at high speed. Mrs. Grant turned to run for the gate, but after just a few steps, Monty shot out in front of her.

She was trembling all over, truly terrified.

Normally, even a small, thin snake was enough to scare her, let alone a massive creature this thick.

This was simply testing her nerves and pushing her to her limit.

"Dylan, you... you have to get it away... quickly... Grandma... is going to be scared to death..."

Dylan smirked, then said in an innocent, harmless voice, "Grandma, Monty is very enthusiastic and friendly. Don’t be afraid. The more scared you are, the more he’ll cling to you."

As soon as he finished speaking, Monty wrapped himself around Mrs. Grant’s leg. She went completely stiff, her scalp tingling with fear.

The color had already drained from her face.

Looking at Mr. Grant and Quentin Grant outside the fence, she yelled, "Get in here, quick... I’m going to... I..."

She was on the verge of fainting.

Quentin Grant quickly spoke up. "Dylan, that’s enough. Stop scaring your grandmother."

Only then did Dylan say, "Monty, come here."

Monty obediently left Mrs. Grant’s side and went toward him.

Dylan hugged Monty’s head, petting it a few times, then said, "Be good now. I’m leaving."

When Mrs. Grant walked out of the enclosure, her legs were so weak she could barely stand.

But she couldn’t get angry at the two children, so she had no choice but to endure it.

"Let’s go home."

The car ride was silent.

The elder Mrs. Grant and Master Grant were already waiting.

Seeing their two great-grandsons, they immediately waved them over. "Come here, quick."

The two darlings stepped forward but stopped about a meter away, refusing to get any closer. They bowed and greeted them very politely.

Although the elder Mrs. Grant was a little disappointed, she still praised, "These two children Nora Ainsworth raised are quite good."

Mrs. Grant, still dazed, hurried back to her bedroom.

Lying on the bed, she finally caught her breath.

Clutching her chest, she was still muttering to herself, "That just now really scared me to death."

Mr. Grant pushed the door open and came in, just in time to hear her. He scoffed, "If I hadn’t asked when I did, you might have been scared to death right there."

"These two children are too mischievous."

"It’s not mischievousness, it was deliberate. Who told you to treat their mother that way in the past? This is getting off light."

Mrs. Grant was filled with regret. "Didn’t I just not know at first? I was deceived by that bitch Catherine Callahan! If I had known from the start who Nora was, I would have treated her very, very well. Fate plays such cruel tricks on people."

Mr. Grant’s tone was flat. "Alright, since the children are here, don’t stay so frightened. Take this opportunity to make up for things, and spend more time with them."

Mrs. Grant nodded. "You go out first. I’ll be out in a moment. I’ll have the kitchen make some pastries for the children to eat."

Mr. Grant walked out and closed the door.

Mrs. Grant sat up. Just as she was about to go out, the phone rang.

She saw it was from Jean Grant and answered it.

"Jean, what is it?"

"Mom, I saw the news. My brother’s two kids came back from the dead?"

Mrs. Grant corrected her, "What ’back from the dead’? Nothing ever happened to them. Don’t talk nonsense."

"Alright, should I come see them?"

"The two kids are here with me now. If you want to come, come here. Remember to buy some toys or something for them. Don’t always show up empty-handed, you’re their aunt."

Jean Grant agreed and then hung up.

When she went out, the two darlings were sitting in the living room talking with the two elders. They were articulate and spoke with a mature tone; although their voices were still childish, they were far more advanced than other children their age.

Watching them, Mrs. Grant felt a sense of pride well up inside her.

Walking over, she bent down to sit, and said with a grin, "Darlings, your aunt is coming over in a bit. When she heard you were back, she said she was going to buy presents and come see you."

The two darlings showed no excitement at all, just let out a single, indifferent word: "Oh."

This reaction surprised Mrs. Grant. "You don’t like your aunt?"

"It’s not a matter of liking or disliking. She’s Daddy’s sister, our aunt. We feel neutral about her. We can tell she’s not very close to us, and we feel the same way."

Dylan told the truth.

Mr. Grant laughed. "Children are sensitive. They can feel who is genuinely close to them and who isn’t."

Mrs. Grant tried to smooth things over. "Your aunt is thinking of you. She’ll be here soon. Are the pastries ready? Bring them up quickly, let the darlings have a taste."

Elmer beamed. "Thank you, Grandma."

Mrs. Grant was incredibly gentle. At this moment, she felt her heart was about to melt. "Grandma has done some things wrong in the past, please don’t mind. Grandma didn’t know before that your mommy was my goddaughter. Now, Grandma is full of regret. Darlings, you must forgive Grandma. Grandma is trying her best to be good to you and your mommy now."

Dylan rolled his eyes. "I hope we can see your sincerity in the future, Grandma."

Mrs. Grant nodded. "You will."

After they had talked for a while, Jean Grant arrived.

She was carrying a bag of things she had bought.

"I’m here."

Mrs. Grant quickly stood up. "See, your aunt is here. Let me see what presents your aunt bought for you."

She went to check, walking over to Jean Grant and taking the bag from her hand. When she saw what was inside, her smiling face instantly became extremely awkward.

But she quickly recovered, forcing a laugh. "Perhaps your aunt didn’t know that our Dylan and Elmer are big kids now. This is a little... childish..."

She pulled out a rattle, the kind a baby of a few months would play with, and some other small trinkets, and placed them awkwardly on the table.

"They’re only a little over two. If I bought them big-kid toys, they probably wouldn’t know how to play with them."

Dylan reached out, picked up the rattle, held it between his hands, and shook it a few times, producing a "DONG DONG" sound.

"Like this?"

Jean Grant nodded, exclaiming, "Dylan is so smart!"

Dylan looked exasperated. He tossed it onto the table. "Our mommy never buys us such moronic toys."

Jean Grant replied, "That’s probably because your mommy is afraid of spending money on you."

"How is that possible... My mommy says these toys are bad for our IQ."

Jean Grant didn’t like hearing that. She felt that she had bought toys for the children, only to be unappreciated and even criticized.

"Of course. Your mommy’s IQ isn’t that high to begin with. If she bought you more brain-damaging toys, she’s probably afraid you’d end up with no IQ at all. Besides, I buy you toys, and you still think they’re no good. Next time, I just won’t buy you any. Since you don’t like them anyway, this is just a thankless task, isn’t it?"

"..."

"..."

The two darlings fell silent.

"Why aren’t you talking?"

"We did talk. Auntie just didn’t hear us," Elmer replied lazily.

"Impossible. I’m not deaf. I can definitely hear you if you speak. Say it again if you don’t believe me," Jean Grant said.

Elmer stood in front of Jean Grant with a grin, and with a SLAP, his small hand struck her across the face. "Auntie, did you hear that?"

The living room fell into a dead silence.