Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 452

The study door swung open.

Adrian shot out first, his navy school uniform wrinkled and bunched in his hand, swinging carelessly as he went. He’d just endured a stern lecture from his great-grandfather, and the marks of a recent fight still showed on his face. Leonard followed calmly behind, closing the heavy door with a quiet click. The two moved down the long corridor, its gray stone and dark wood echoing with their footsteps—one adult, one child, the younger trailing a bit ahead.

After a while, Adrian suddenly stopped and turned, looking up at Leonard. “Leonard, did I really mess up this time? But Mom wasn’t even mad at me.”

He’d accomplished what he wanted, all on his own. Why was his great-grandfather so angry?

Leonard paused, glancing down at Adrian’s bruised, medicated face. “Master Adrian, your great-grandfather and your mother are both right. Violence might work sometimes, but it won’t solve most problems and always brings more trouble. And to be honest, you handled this rather poorly.”

If Adrian hadn’t been hurt and Mila hadn’t rushed in out of worry, the whole messy scene could have easily been picked apart by anyone paying attention. There were holes everywhere, flaws obvious to any outsider.

He considered for a moment, then added, “At the very least, your father would never have handled things this way.”

“Dad?” Adrian’s eyes brightened, then quickly dimmed. He moved closer, tugging gently at the cuff of Leonard’s crisp black suit. “Leonard, what would Dad have done?”

“Sir?” Leonard tilted his head, pausing in thought. “If it were your father, he’d never have given anyone the chance to say a word. This problem would never have reached your mother. It would have been handled so quietly no one would even notice.”

Of course, knowing Lysander, no one would dare cause trouble in front of him in the first place. The very thought wouldn’t even cross their minds.

“Would he just... scare them into silence?” Adrian asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Leonard shook his head, sighing softly. “There are many ways to keep people quiet, Master Adrian. Resorting to violence is the least effective. Solving problems without bloodshed is always better—it’s safer, and far more permanent.”

“So how do you do that?” Adrian pressed, curiosity lighting his face.

“You’re still young. There’s no rush to learn these things,” Leonard said, patting his head gently. “Even if you were a little clumsy this time, you still did well. Don’t worry—just take your time.”

“But Mom almost found out,” Adrian grumbled, pushing out his lower lip in frustration. “Great-grandpa said I did a bad job, and I don’t even understand what you all are talking about. When people insult me, I get upset. I’m strong, so why can’t I just hit them?”

After all, whenever he fought back, people stopped talking.

It always worked before.

“Then do it your way,” Leonard replied.

“Huh?” Adrian’s eyes widened. “But Leonard, you just said violence isn’t good.”

“It isn’t. But that doesn’t mean it never works.” Leonard’s gaze softened as he met the boy’s eyes, his tone firm and reassuring. “Remember this, Adrian: you have a lot of room to make mistakes. You’re young—you’ve got plenty of chances to try, fail, and learn. There’s no need to limit yourself now.”

It’s all right not to understand. Childhood is meant for stumbling, for falling into every pit and learning through a little pain.

“But if you do mess up,” Leonard continued, “you have to be ready to face the consequences.”