Pregnant Cultivator, Doted by Big Boss

Nathan Jacobs... That was Arthur Jacobs’s old name.

After the General’s Mansion’s biological son was found, he was renamed Arthur Jacobs. They really wore their ambition to bring glory to the family on their sleeves.

Before, whenever he heard that name, it felt foreign, as if it wasn’t referring to him. In fact, that name truly wasn’t his, but fortunately, he couldn’t care less.

Now, however, he had parents, his own name, and family. From his name, he could tell that his parents didn’t need him to bring glory to the family; they just hoped he would grow up safe and sound, and live a good life.

Just thinking of his mother and the others brought a smile to Aaron’s eyes. But when he looked at Caleb Jacobs, his gaze turned cold again.

Before he could speak,

He heard Caleb Jacobs, who was kneeling there, speak first.

"It’s you. Why are you here?" Caleb Jacobs’s tone was full of accusation the moment he spoke, a dazed look still on his face.

’Strange... Today is just too strange. Why would the Imperial Guard suddenly surround the General’s Mansion? And how could this feral child, whom I sent away and who should have died on the road, appear in the General’s Mansion?’

Hearing this, Aaron Sinclair chuckled and said, "Why am I here? That’s a good question. My feet are my own. Do I need to report my whereabouts to an old geezer like you?" ’Right, why did I say ’old geezer’? What does that even mean? Oh well, not important.’

He activated his venomous-tongue mode and couldn’t stop himself.

"Look at you, with your sunken eyes and sallow skin. Your temples are all white, and oh my, you’ve lost weight. This, this... It seems the food in the General’s Mansion isn’t very good. I haven’t seen you in a while, and you’ve become so haggard that your own parents wouldn’t recognize you, you old geezer. But that makes sense. With such a troublesome, unfilial son, who could have an appetite? You must be sick with anger."

He continued his assault.

"Tsk, and also... I heard a while ago that your son has a lot of interesting tricks up his sleeve. He likes to crawl into people’s doggy doors in their backyards late at night. They say your son has graced every single doggy door in Atheria with his presence. Hey, don’t glare at me. It’s not my fault I know. The dogs were just barking so loudly that night, it would’ve been hard *not* to know. And that’s not all. I heard your son also likes to sneak into pigsties and sleep cuddled up with the pigs. Hiss... While I can’t quite understand it, I must say I respect it. Maybe your family has some kind of hereditary trait I’m not aware of."

Caleb Jacobs pointed at him, so furious he couldn’t form a complete sentence.

"You... you..."

Before he could finish, Aaron Sinclair cut him off directly.

He patted his chest lightly, a look of relief on his face. "Thank goodness I’m not your biological son. Otherwise, what would I do if I inherited your family’s strange disease?"

"Stop your nonsense!"

Regarding his biological son crawling through doggy doors, never mind other people; even Caleb Jacobs himself found it hard to understand. He had already fallen ill with anger over this matter. Now, hearing someone bring it up again was like rubbing salt in his wound, a constant reminder that he had a useless son.

What he found most difficult to accept was that the one mentioning it was the feral child he had picked up from the roadside—the son he had abandoned and thrown away. He suddenly felt a stone pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Shut up! Shut up, I said... Do you really think you’ve gotten bold?"

"Do you have any idea that it was I who gave you food to eat? It’s one thing not to be grateful, but you’re truly an ungrateful wretch." ’If it weren’t for me, this feral child would have died on the roadside long ago.’

Thinking of this made Caleb Jacobs even more self-righteous. He felt that he had given this child everything, so the boy’s entire being should be unconditionally devoted to him. If he wanted the boy to live, he lived; if he wanted him to die, he should obediently go and die.

At this moment, Caleb Jacobs had even forgotten that he was still kneeling there, surrounded by the Imperial Guard.

He had no sense of impending doom. Perhaps he was too used to things going his way. He had never once considered that he might face death.

He thought of his own defiant, muddle-headed son. Then he looked at the boy before him, whose eyes were sharp and who looked more capable than his own son. He refused to admit that his son was inferior to a feral child from the roadside. Why should his son be inferior to one picked up from the street?

He couldn’t accept it.

The more shame and anger he felt, the more he began to put on the airs of an elder. "Nathan Jacobs... Do you know what you are saying? Even if others say a thousand bad things about Arthur, he is still your older brother."

The smile on Aaron Sinclair’s face vanished, replaced by a cold expression. "Who’s my older brother? Are you talking about that piece of trash, Arthur Jacobs? Is he even worthy? My parents only gave birth to me. Don’t let any random stray cat or dog try to claim kinship. A woman as beautiful as a celestial fairy like my mother would never give birth to such a useless, stupid thing."

Caleb Jacobs’s eyes widened.

"You, you dare speak to me like that."

Aaron Sinclair flicked his sleeves.

"And why wouldn’t I dare? What makes you, Caleb Jacobs, so special? Oh, oh, I misspoke. You were never a ’thing’ to begin with. After all, a normal person wouldn’t do something like stealing someone else’s child to die in place of their own son. Nor would they murder someone to steal their identity. Caleb Jacobs, living in this General’s Mansion that doesn’t belong to you, aren’t you afraid the ghost of the real General will come and strangle you in the middle of the night?"

’The General’s Mansion that doesn’t belong to him? The real General?’ These words echoed in Caleb Jacobs’s mind like a bolt of lightning striking him from above.

As soon as Aaron spoke, Caleb Jacobs’s expression changed. His face went rigid, his eyes filled with the panic of a deeply hidden secret being exposed.

"N-No... What nonsense are you spouting? What are you rambling about?"

In his heart, however, he was thinking:

’No... Impossible.’

’How could he know about this?’

’I was very clean when I murdered that man to steal his identity. The only other person who knew is now dead. How on earth did Nathan Jacobs find out?’

Aaron Sinclair glanced at him and said, "You must be curious how I know, right? All I can say is, what a coincidence. When you were silencing your witness, I happened to be right under your window. Tsk, tsk, you’re quite ruthless, you old geezer. To keep your secret and avoid being blackmailed, you offed your own brother."

Caleb Jacobs’s pupils shrank. In that instant, he felt his hands and feet turn to ice.

’No... Impossible.’

’How could it be such a coincidence?’

’Could he have seen it that day?’

’Damn it, how could this happen?’

Frantic, he couldn’t stop himself from trying to argue his case. "This is slander! According to the laws of Kelldorn, how many lives do you have to lose for openly slandering an official of the Imperial Court?"

Javier Sinclair spread his hands, a look on his face that said, ’Why are you in such a hurry?’ He said, "Look at you, getting all flustered. They say the innocent have nothing to hide, so why are you in such a rush to defend yourself? It’s as if you’re afraid people *won’t* know you did it. There’s a saying that’s right on the money: an explanation is a cover-up, and a cover-up is an admission of fact. It’s just that some things are useless to cover up."