Every Boy Has A Pure Land In His Heart (First Update, Seeking Full Subscription!!!)

This voice…

Lake frowned slightly as he listened to the voice on the phone.

A moment later.

Lake pushed open the door from inside and walked into the backyard.

"Who is it?"

"Do you want my current name, or my old one?"

"Whatever."

"Seifer!"

"…"

Seifer, who had just arrived by plane and checked into a hotel in Washington, pulled back the curtains. She was wearing something resembling a red evening gown, her golden hair was styled up, and her delicate fingers held the phone. She gazed at Washington under the night sky, listening to the breathing on the other end of the line, and a crimson smile slowly curved her lips. "You’ve forgotten me."

Lake snapped back to attention. "No, it just feels a bit surreal."

"Oh, surreal. I remember, you never believed in gods."

"Still don’t."

Lake stood in the backyard, regaining his composure, and chuckled softly. "But I was just talking about you with my adopted daughter. Right after I mentioned you, you called. Tell me, isn’t that surreal?"

Seifer smiled. "Doesn’t that mean we’re connected, heart to heart? You were just thinking of me, and I was just thinking of you."

Lake let out a soft laugh. "Thanks."

Such cheesy words?

Who are you kidding?

I ditched those lines when I was fifteen, they’re outdated, you big phony.

The next second.

Lake hung up the phone.

Turned it off.

All in one smooth motion.

The Seifer in his memory would never speak in such a tone. If Lake was ice at the rescue center back then, Seifer was the great iceberg.

That gentle, seductive tone was definitely not the Seifer he remembered.

If it wasn’t.

Lake would rather believe it was a big liar. After all, a young boy’s heart has a rare sanctuary, and Lake didn’t want his last sanctuary to be defiled.

Lake hadn’t turned his phone back on for days.

If the Department of Homeland Security had any urgent matters, or if Starlight Tower was on fire, David Bass and Cassel both had the phone number to his Washington home.

Besides.

Lake had come back to celebrate Christmas.

Celebrating the holiday was the main event.

A woman he hadn’t seen in over twenty years suddenly calls him?

Heh.

Sorry, but Lake was never the type to grovel before women.

Unsolicited favors mean ulterior motives!

So…

After hanging up the phone, Lake put the matter out of his mind.

Soon.

Time flew by.

Year ’02 passed, and ’03 arrived.

One day.

Early morning.

Betty yawned, looking listless.

Skye, who was eating breakfast, looked at Betty curiously. "What’s wrong?"

Betty was usually very energetic, so during this Christmas holiday, her relationship with Skye had been rising parabolically.

Betty opened her mouth.

Lake, who was drinking coffee and reading the newspaper, said without looking up, "It’s because she has to go to work today, that’s why she’s so listless."

When Betty’s alarm clock went off that day, all six of them went off at once.

But…

Lake was woken directly by the first alarm, while Betty was still called awake by Karen.

Betty’s words got stuck in her throat.

Skye looked puzzled, "Why does work performance have to do with mental state?"

Lake looked up at Skye and said after some thought, "It’s like going to school. When you’re on vacation, you always wake up early, but when it’s time for school, you always feel like you haven’t slept enough."

Skye blinked, "I’ve never felt that way."

Lake and Betty exchanged a glance.

Karen, standing nearby, smiled and looked at Skye, saying, "So, this is the difference between a genius and an ordinary person."

Lake and Betty formed an alliance this time, looking at Karen with a mixture of helplessness and speechlessness.

Skye pondered Karen’s words, understanding them only vaguely.

Yes.

Today was the end of Betty’s vacation.

However…

Lake and Skye still had a week of vacation left. This time, Lake brought Skye back to Washington not primarily for rest; it was much like when they first brought up the topic of relationships.

Skye had reached an age where she needed to receive knowledge in that area.

Lake felt that if he were to explain it to Skye, his image would undoubtedly plummet. Moreover, for a grown man to explain such matters to a young girl seemed lewd and awkward in every way.

So, Lake planned to take advantage of the holiday and have Karen help explain those aspects to Skye, ideally in the same way Karen had educated him and Betty back then.

It was just like the scene where she educated them about over-the-counter anesthetics.

Lake and Betty were once again taken to the psychologist. As usual, one needed to have their mental state tested for any issues, while the other needed to undergo psychological counseling.

After breakfast.

Lake drove to the Department of Homeland Security.

At the start of the new year, it was reasonable to visit the boss to offer New Year greetings. After all, with paid leave and everyone being in Washington, it would be improper not to pay respects to the top boss.

What if Secretary Kelly decided one day to stop covering for Lake?

This was workplace wisdom.

"Knock knock!"

"Come in."

Lake pushed the door open with a smile, "Good morning, Secretary. Happy New Year."

Secretary Kelly looked up at Lake as he entered, "I don’t have any alcohol here."

"I’m here to…"

Lake chuckled, his gaze falling on the… empty wine cabinet. He blinked, "Where’s the wine? That bottle of ten-year-old Bourbon?"

"Drank it."

"Drank…"

Lake collected himself and looked at Secretary Kelly, who had a slight smile on his face. He sat on the sofa, "Secretary, I came specifically to offer my blessings, not to covet that bottle of wine, although you did say before that the bottle would be kept for me."

Secretary Kelly’s face darkened, "That was my farewell drink. What, are you hoping I’ll step down so you can take my place?"

Lake waved his hand, "No thanks. I still think I’m more comfortable staying in New York. I’ll pass on the Special Administrative Region. The air in New York is even sweeter than here."

Secretary Kelly: "…"

What a joke.

Living in Washington permanently?

Lake had lived there before and didn’t think much of it. Moreover, Karen was also in Washington; living here always made him feel like he was under Karen’s close surveillance. He’d rather be in New York, where he could be free and unrestrained. His foundation was also in New York.

Just look at Nick Fury.

On his own turf in New York, hadn’t Lake driven Nick Fury to the point where he was afraid to drive himself?

"Oh, right."

Lake peeled an orange from the coffee table fruit bowl, looking curiously at Secretary Kelly, "The President of Ghost Island Country is coming to meet the Federal President. Why didn’t you go to Pennsylvania Avenue for the meeting?"

Secretary Kelly continued to look at the documents in his hand, "That’s a matter for the Secret Service, the Department of Defense, and Langley. It has nothing to do with us."

This was a report Lake had seen while drinking coffee this morning.

The President of Ghost Island Country was scheduled to meet the current Federal President tomorrow. Lake had initially thought Secretary Kelly would attend the security meeting for this encounter at the White House, so he had specifically made a call on his way over.

But…

Was the security of the building on Pennsylvania Avenue not within the scope of the Department of Homeland Security?

Was this blatant disregard for the Department of Homeland Security?

But this wasn’t Lake’s concern.

Lake sat in Secretary Kelly’s office for a while, chatting, and then took his leave.

Even the alcohol had been put away.

What a henpecked husband.

Lake sighed inwardly. Every time he fantasized about marriage, he’d see things that made him reconsider walking down that path.

Outside the Department of Homeland Security Building.

Lake opened the car door and got in.

The next second.

Lake’s right hand flashed, and a Glock pistol was aimed directly at the figure in the back seat. "You’ve got some nerve, getting into anyone’s car."

As he spoke, Lake turned and looked expressionlessly at the woman sitting in the back seat, arms crossed, wearing sunglasses.

The woman chuckled softly.

She lowered her head.

And took off her sunglasses.

Today, she was wearing a pure white business suit, her blonde hair styled up. Seifer, with her sunglasses off and her beautiful face revealed, smiled at Lake. "Hello, Lake."

The image of the woman in Lake’s memory instantly overlapped with the woman before him. "Seifer."

Seifer gazed at the Glock in Lake’s hand. "Is this how you greet an old friend?"

Lake put away his pistol, started the car, and drove away from the entrance of the Department of Homeland Security Building.

"I called you."

"I thought it was a scammer."

"Why do you say that?"

Lake watched Seifer in the rearview mirror. "Because the words were too tempting, not like you."

Seifer nodded. "When you live alone outside, if you want to survive, you have to change yourself. Even if you don’t want to, the price of not changing is death."

Lake didn’t respond to that.

"Where are we going? I’ll give you a ride."

"Spring Hotel."

"Okay."

Half an hour later.

Spring Hotel.

Fifth floor.

Seifer used her room card to open the door and invited Lake, "Come in and sit down."

Lake stood at the doorway and walked in. Looking at the layout of the presidential suite at the Spring Hotel, he said, "It’s a bit more upscale than the presidential suite at the Garden Hotel."

Seifer, walking towards the liquor cabinet, said, "You should see the bathroom, it’s more interesting."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, you can go take a look. Bourbon or whiskey?"

"Bourbon."

Lake said this, completely ignoring the invitation to check out the bathroom. Who knew if he’d be cornered against the wall after going into the bathroom.

If the Seifer of the past gave Lake the impression of a giant iceberg, then the Seifer of today was.

A dangerous, giant iceberg.

Lake took the wine glass Seifer handed him and looked at her curiously. "Where did you go? I looked for you. I think you should know that."

Seifer revealed a slight smile. "I know. I watched from a distance when you and your adoptive mother came to the rescue center."

Lake raised an eyebrow.

Just then.

Ding dong!

Seifer put down her wine glass, made an apologetic gesture to Lake, and then walked over to open the door.

"Room service."

Following the words came a small old man wearing a hat, about sixty years old, and two white men in uniforms of an unknown design.

Lake narrowed his eyes.