Catastrophe Card King
Chapter 1942 - 587: Miss Anne Who Waited Through the Long Ages

Chapter 1942: Chapter 587: Miss Anne Who Waited Through the Long Ages

Safflower Manor is the ancestral estate of the Song Family, also the place of their rise.

Thus, in Black Gold City, the ancient castle that has existed for centuries is still preserved.

However, over the past few years, due to war and unrest, the Song Family moved to the New World Machinery City in the Western Wilderness, and the manor changed hands several times, suffering considerable damage and undergoing some changes after repairs.

Leonard Churchill wore a pristine white suit, and slowly walked into the manor.

A gentle breeze brushed his face, creating ripples across the lush green lawn, while birds chirped on the branches.

The layout of the manor was mostly like it was a hundred years ago, with high white walls, a fountain, and a meticulously tended garden, all seemingly familiar.

What was different was the Gothic-style house in the distance, now adorned with the emblem of the Silver Moon Sect.

This place now served as a cathedral for the Silver Moon Assembly, and within the manor there were occasionally nuns clad in black and white robes coming and going, along with devout believers.

Leonard did not take the main road, but instead followed a path paved with cobblestones towards the back of the manor.

Step by step, everything in his memory was so vivid.

Turning past a grove of trees, he saw the small chapel from his memories, with its white roof and stained glass.

Yet, having been left to neglect, it was now abandoned.

The chapel’s glass was shattered in numerous places, and the white paint on the walls was marked with patches of peeling.

Leonard gazed with slightly blurred eyes, and as he stood, a faint floral scent wafted through the air.

This was indeed the blooming season.

Upon closer look, the chapel’s outer walls were covered with roses in full vibrant bloom.

Amidst the flourishing green leaves, roses blossomed in full splendor—pink, pale purple, pristine white... interwoven together.

The vivid colors before his eyes became clear for a moment.

The gentle breeze swayed the roses lightly, graceful and delicate.

It was exactly like the scene in his memories.

Leonard watched, the image reflecting in his eyes overlapping with the traces in his memory.

Suddenly, he allowed a gentle smile to curve his lips, murmuring to himself: "It’s been so long since I’ve returned..."

Standing still for quite some time, Leonard seemed to recall something, and took out that black and white photograph, raised it before him, and aligned the position.

Soon enough, the picture’s scene matched with the chapel in the background.

In an instant, it was as though the wonderful moment from a century ago emerged before his eyes.

In the photo, the young man slightly lifted the corner of his mouth, radiating vitality;

And the girl in the floral dress held the hem of her dress, her pretty face turned towards the camera, beaming with a happy and radiant smile.

Youthful and vibrant, it was the most beautiful age.

The roses continued to bloom alone, and they captured the most beautiful smiles in that photograph.

Leonard bore a faint smile, yet in his gaze flickered a myriad of melancholy, and he murmured to himself: "Miss Anne... I’m back."

He remained the same as before, but the girl was no more.

Looking at those two radiant smiles in the photograph, Leonard’s mind suddenly recalled the words of Vera Williams.

Death is not the loss of life; she is merely frozen in time.

At this moment, as if his heart realized something, unknowingly, a slight ripple stirred through time and space.

...

The small chapel was already in ruins, the white walls covered with lush roses blooming season after season, but never again finding the shadow of a hundred years ago.

Leonard took a stroll beneath the roses, not lingering long, and continued on towards the forested area behind the manor, where there stood a towering forest of black fir trees.

A century had passed, and the fir trees here had grown much sturdier than he remembered, with decaying and dead old stumps, as well as some newly sprouted young trees.

Untended, this place was even more tranquil than it had been a hundred years ago.

Leonard walked inside and soon found the gigantic black fir tree, which had grown a whole circle thicker than in his memory, deep within the Dense Forest.

Looking up, there was a treehouse resembling a bird’s nest cradled among the branches of the fir tree.

In the final years before Vera Williams passed away, she lived in this treehouse, which looked unchanged from his memory.

Leonard leaped upward, effortlessly landing on the treehouse platform dozens of meters high.

Presumably left uncleared for a long time, the boards felt damp, and moss had already spread across them.

Leonard saw the door before him, and remembered the scene when he first came to the treehouse, as if he could hear an enthusiastic voice in his ear greeting: "Welcome Mr. Leonard Churchill home... please come in~"

As if the girl had always been waiting for him in this treehouse.

She knew that one day, he would surely return.

For some inexplicable reason, Leonard’s brow unfurled, and he responded to the empty little house with, "Hm, I’m back."

He pushed open the door, and a musty scent greeted him.

Upon entering earlier, he had already seen that the window glass had been shattered, and this place had been ransacked by thieves.

As he looked inside the house, it was indeed as he thought.

In the dim light, the treehouse was visibly in disarray and ruin.

Any visible valuable items were already removed; even the wall pipes were dismantled into a messy state.

Empty and desolate.

Thankfully, it was still the room from his memories, the same room.

Like a tombstone of time, ultimately leaving a sense of nostalgia.

Leonard already felt grateful enough.

He stepped into the room, gently touched the walls by hand, and a sense of familiarity welled up inside him.

From his memory, a beautiful crystal chandelier should have been suspended in the center of the treehouse, elegant oil paintings adorned the walls, a black grand piano stood in the corner, and there was a small fireplace...

The objects were no longer there, but the memories remained.

There were so many beautiful memories left here.