?Chapter 1653:


    Hurley nced at the item she had chosen, a gentle smile forming. “If it came from you, I’m sure she’ll be happy with it.”


    “Are you sure?” Christina asked, smiling back.


    “Absolutely,” Hurley replied. “Our families go way back. The Wade children are decent people — they don’t measure a gift by its price.”


    Noticing the trust her father clearly ced in the Wade family, Christina kept her expressionposed and asked, “Dad, how did you and Zahir be such close friends? I want to hear what happened back then.” She set the small item aside and wrapped herself around Hurley’s arm, her tone carrying a note of gentle affection.


    Hurley began recounting his history with Zahir in in, unhurried words. At first, they had simply been acquaintances. Later, they went into business together. During a devastating fire, Hurley had nearly lost his life — it was Zahir who rushed into the mes without hesitation and dragged him out. After that, Hurley stepped away from thepany and left it in Zahir’s hands, returning home to focus on family affairs. With his backing, the Wade family secured a solid fourth position within Lionesspaw.


    “So when you met him, you already had wealth, but he didn’t realize it?” Christina asked.


    “That’s right,” Hurley said. “That’s what makes it meaningful — he had no idea who I was, yet he still risked everything to save me. There was no calction behind it.” A faint smile lingered on his face as he reflected on those years, though a quiet heaviness soon settled over him. Then another thought surfaced, and a sharp chill shed through his eyes.


    “I’ve long believed that the fire was arranged by the Martel family,” he said, his expression tightening, “though I never uncovered proof.”


    “Why did you suspect them?” Christina asked. “Were you already enemies at the time?”


    “Yes. The Jones family and the Martel family have never been on good terms — we’ve always beenpetitors.” Hurley looked at Christina, concern evident in his gaze. “I believe your disappearance, and the people who tried to kill me, are all tied to the Martel family.”


    He stillcked solid evidence. But once he obtained it, he intended to make them pay. If his daughter had never vanished, she would not have endured so much suffering, nor hovered so close to death. This was a debt that demanded repayment.


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    “We still need solid proof first,” Christina said, pausing briefly before adding, “so we don’t end up ming the wrong people.” What she truly meant was that striking the wrong target would only allow the real culprit to benefit from the turmoil.


    “How could we possibly be wrong?” Hurley replied. “Other than the Martel family, I genuinely can’t think of anyone else. We’ve been opposed for as long as I can remember.” Even now, the Martel family’s sessor remained locked in conflict with Hurley’s sons.


    “Regardless, we need to look into everything carefully first,” Christina said, her gaze unwavering.


    Hurley nodded. “Agreed.”


    After purchasing a few small gifts, the two of them left the store. As they continued down the street, Christina’s attention was drawn to a homeless man seated by the roadside. He appeared to be around her father’s age. Though his clothing was frayed and worn, he kept himself clean and orderly. A pair of cloudy eyes stared nkly ahead, yet they carried an odd sense of familiarity. He sat in silence, holding a sign asking for help, his gaze unfocused — as if trapped in a distant, hollow daze.


    Christina could tell at a nce that he was blind. What troubled her more were the visible signs of illness in his appearance, symptoms that suggested prolonged exposure to toxins, likely the cause of his blindness. His condition appeared advanced. Without treatment, he might not survive more than three years.


    Without warning, the man erupted into a fit of harsh coughing, his face twisting in obvious agony.


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