C84 Kneel Down!

The photo of your son in his birthday suit is still on my phone.

"Since we know each other, that makes things easier," Reeve said with a smile.

His demeanor relaxed, knowing that his son's friend would have to address him as 'uncle'.

It was a relief compared to his dad pressuring him to call Westley a 'savior'.

Unexpectedly, Old Master Freeman declared loudly, "Even though you're acquainted, you mustn't forget your manners. Bow to Westley on my behalf to show our gratitude."

Reeve was speechless.

You're the one who was rescued, so why should I be the one to bow and thank him?

Aren't I your own flesh and blood?

"Are you refusing to do it? Remember, I'm still the one calling the shots in the Freeman family," Elder Freeman stated icily.

A chill ran through Reeve's heart.

Defying Sayeed was unthinkable for anyone in the Freeman family.

Such was the authority of a family patriarch!

"Thank you for saving my father's life. I bow to you."

Despite his reluctance, Reeve bowed to Westley.

After silently receiving two bows, Westley stopped Reeve, saying, "There's no need for this. It was the right thing to do!"

Internally, Reeve cursed Westley.

If you wanted to stop me, why didn't you do it right from the start? What's the meaning of this now?

And so, Reeve stood aside while Westley and Sayeed sat down for a leisurely chat.

Occasionally, Sayeed would cough softly, signaling Reeve to pour tea for them.

Reeve was seething.

Despite the vast difference in their ages, the two conversed as if they were old friends reunited after years apart.

After some time, Sayeed spoke up, "I asked you here to personally convey our thanks. Is there anything you've been needing lately?"

"You're thinking of giving me a gift?" Westley asked, his eyes twinkling.

Sayeed hadn't anticipated such forthrightness. He paused, then burst into a hearty laugh and said, "It's such a joy to talk with someone as astute as you. I'd feel guilty if I didn't do something in return."

Westley appeared somewhat troubled.

Reeve stood to the side, a sneer forming silently within him.

Westley was just too phony!

He was sure Westley would soon make an outrageous demand.

"There's no need for concern. You saved my life. While the gift I offer can't fully repay your kindness, it will at least ease my conscience," Sayeed said, his smile warm and genuine.

Westley stroked his chin, seemingly deep in thought. Sayeed allowed himself a small smile, patient. He was curious to see what Westley truly desired.

Did Westley want money? The Freemans were wealthy enough to easily spare a hundred million.

A house, perhaps? Even easier.

The Freeman family's luxury development, "Freeman Mansion Courtyard," was renowned throughout Lindzac City.

Or was it a woman Westley wanted? That might prove more challenging. The Freemans were mostly men, and the few women were barely fourteen or fifteen—not yet of marrying age.

After a pause, Westley cleared his throat. Reeve snapped to attention, eager to learn what terms Westley would set forth. Sayeed's gaze also remained fixed on Westley, anticipating his response.

"Old Master Freeman, after giving it some thought, I realize I'm not in want of anything. So, let's just drop it," Westley said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

He genuinely desired nothing.

Sayeed's face fell at the reply, a hint of disappointment showing.

Reeve's expression contorted as he blurted out, "You must be joking, right? You're an ordinary person; how can you want for nothing?"

Westley, detecting the scorn in Reeve's tone, countered, "Then, in your opinion, what should I want?"

"Money!" Reeve said, breaking into a smile.

"And how much do you think would be appropriate for me to take?" Westley returned the smile.

There it was—the reveal of his true intentions!

Reeve's opinion of Westley dropped another notch; he saw him as utterly insincere.

"How does five million sound? The Freemans always generously reward those who aid us," Reeve proposed.

Westley shook his head.

"Not enough? Then make it ten million!" Reeve pressed on.

Westley stayed quiet.

Reeve inwardly sneered, convinced of Westley's greed.

"Alright, let's settle on fifty million! Fifty million should be more than enough for a lifetime," Reeve said with remarkable generosity.

Indeed, the average person would be stunned to hear such a figure.

But Westley was no average person.

His gaze fixed on Reeve, eyes as clear as a pristine lake.

Feeling unnerved by that intense stare, Reeve faltered, "Do you think the amount is too meager?"

"Absolutely," Westley replied.

"Name your price then. As long as it's within the Freeman family's means, I'll agree," Reeve said through clenched teeth, frustration simmering within him.

"How about you hand over the entire Freeman fortune?" Westley suggested with a twinkle in his eye.

"What did you say?"

It wasn't just Reeve who was taken aback; even Sayeed's eyes bulged in disbelief.

Wasn't that an excessively arrogant demand?

"Do you have any idea how much the Freeman family's wealth totals?" Reeve asked, his sneer barely concealing his irritation.

"Several billion? Tens of billions?"

Westley casually guessed, "The Freeman family must be quite wealthy, right?"

"Correct. The combined assets of the Freeman Mansion amount to over eight hundred billion," Reeve disclosed.

His gaze turned to Westley, dripping with disdain, "Isn't it a bit excessive to hand over all that wealth to you?"

"If you're reluctant, then just give me half," Westley said, stretching languidly.

Reeve's irritation boiled over at Westley's impudence.

His face twisted into a snarl as he spat out each word, "You're intentionally provoking me, aren't you?"

"I'd say you're the one provoking here," Westley retorted with a cold laugh.

"It's absurd. I'm trying to give you money, and somehow I'm the one causing trouble?" Reeve was bewildered.

"I've already stated I don't want your money. Can't you comprehend plain English?" Westley shot back.

"Impossible! There's no one who wouldn't want money," Reeve asserted confidently.

"In fact, I would have saved anyone lying in the streets of Lindzac that day, even a beggar! Had I known it would lead to such a hassle, I certainly wouldn't have bothered," Westley declared.

He rose swiftly to his feet and concluded, "Let's consider this matter closed. We shall not cross paths again. Elder Freeman, my thanks for the excellent tea."

Having spoken, he strode confidently towards the door, not a hint of hesitation in his step.

His silhouette stood tall and imposing, reminiscent of a towering mountain.

"Kneel down!" demanded the voice.