Chapter 530: Talented Phoebe Huxley
After sharpening the knife, Rosalind Green went into her room. She was holding in her anger, wanting to talk to no one, focused only on proving her strength and clearing her name.
Tang Xiaonan nudged Jim Thorne, who got the hint and dashed off to find Goldie Thorne. Clayton Xavier had intended to go home but decided to stay. He’d been getting home late recently anyway, so his grandmother and mother were used to it.
Jim Thorne returned quickly, announcing excitedly, "It’s all set. My uncle said he’s heading to Rosillia Village to play cards anyway, so he’ll spread the word. He can’t guarantee how many people will show up, though."
"However many come is fine!"
The door opened again. Rosalind Green spoke, then shut it, but it quickly reopened. She emerged with a cloth sack in her hand, shoveled a good deal of plant ash from under the stove, and filled the bag to the brim.
Tang Xiaonan couldn’t help but ask, "Aunt Green, what are you shoveling plant ash for?"
"It gets in their eyes when there’s a crowd. Your mother told me to throw a handful out, and when they’re rubbing their eyes, that’s when you strike."
Rosalind Green was perfectly calm. She placed the sack full of plant ash on the table and then took out an oil flask. This time, even Adrian Hawthorne was unsettled. ’What is she up to now?’
"A little oil will make them slip."
This time, no one had to ask; Rosalind Green explained herself. She poured oil onto a cloth and meticulously wiped the floor by the doorway, over and over, until it was slick and gleaming. Everyone wore the strangest expressions. ’With this whole arsenal of tricks, she wants to make sure they have no way out!’
"Did my mom teach you that too?" Tang Xiaonan asked curiously.
Rosalind Green nodded and said with admiration, "Your mother knows so much. I still have a lot to learn."
Now, Phoebe Huxley was the third person she admired most—the first and second were, without a doubt, her husband and son.
Tang Xiaonan rubbed her nose, fighting back a laugh. ’I had no idea my own mother knew so many tricks. It’s a real waste of talent that she isn’t running a crooked inn!’
"Aunt Green is a very fast learner. With all these layers of protection, your safety is surely guaranteed," Clayton Xavier said, suppressing a laugh.
Rosalind Green looked a little sheepish. Pointing to the oiled patch of floor by the door, she said, "Be careful, everyone. Don’t step on this spot. Kenneth, please help Mr. Tate in a moment."
Old Master Tate laughed heartily. "I’m fine. I can just step over it."
He strode over it with ease. The area Rosalind Green had oiled wasn’t large, but anyone careless enough to step on it would fall flat on their face. ’What a wicked trick.’
Rosalind Green gave a shy smile and returned to her room. Her spirited fighting demeanor seemed unfamiliar to Adrian Hawthorne, yet he also felt a sense of gratification.
The night grew deeper, and Tang Xiaonan started to yawn. Jim Thorne wanted to take her home to bed, but she refused. "Just a little longer! The hooligans aren’t here yet!"
She wanted to see Rosalind Green unleash her power with her own eyes. She had missed it last time and wasn’t about to miss it again tonight. She patted her own cheeks a few times and pried her eyelids open, forcing them wide.
None of them went to sleep that night. Adrian Hawthorne was still worried. With only Old Master Tate and Rosalind Green at home—and Rosalind having made them take Dollar away so as not to alert their targets—how could he possibly rest easy? So, they kept watch outside, ready to provide backup if the situation turned critical.
Adrian Hawthorne checked his watch. It was already midnight. It seemed the hooligans weren’t going to show up.
"You guys should go home and get some sleep."
The words had barely left Adrian Hawthorne’s mouth when Dollar, who had been dozing, suddenly perked up his ears and let out a low growl. Everyone was instantly wide awake, all traces of sleepiness gone, their eyes fixed on the intersection below.
Sure enough, three furtive figures appeared. Adrian Hawthorne involuntarily clenched his fists.