Blimey, My Kid's the Heir to the Billionaire Boss!
Chapter 311 The Older You Get, The Less You Like It

Tears streamed down Mr. Clemens' face as he stood there watching. "Growing old," he murmured, "makes for a lower threshold for tears."

That night, he was utterly moved by the young boy's words.

"Is Nathan your brother?" asked the nurse.

"Yeah, he was in a car accident; they're treating him now." Noah's eyes reddened, and his voice choked with emotion. "It's my fault. I should have held onto him tighter. Then he wouldn't have chased after that cat. He wouldn't have gotten hit." "Don't worry, he'll be okay," the nurse assured, tears slipping down her cheeks as she quickly wiped them away. "Are you hungry? Let me get you something to eat."

"No, that's okay," Noah hastily declined. "My mom taught me not to bother people unnecessarily. I had to ask for your help for my sister because I had no choice but to be fine. I can't trouble you more." "But..."

"I need to see my brother now," Noah interrupted the nurse. "Please take good care of my sister. Thank you!"

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of her; you have my word," the nurse said, wiping away her tears.

"Thanks," Noah said before turning away.

Mr. Clemens quickly hid behind a nearby cabinet, peeking out to spy on Noah.

Noah stepped out of the room, got a disposable cup from the nurse, filled it with water from the cooler three times, gulped it down, and belched before he headed upstairs. Tears filled Mr. Clemens' eyes again. He trembled and slowly ascended the stairs, leaning on his cane.

Silas rushed from behind. "I've been looking for you everywhere! I thought something had happened to you. It scared me half to death!"

"How's the kid?" Mr. Clemens asked, his usual stoic demeanor returning instantly.

"He's out of the ER. The doctors say there's no threat to his life," Silas reported. "He has a fractured ankle, some abrasions, and a slight concussion."

"Instruct the hospital to provide the best care and the finest doctors. Spare no expense. I want this child to recover fully, without any complications," Mr. Clemens ordered.

"Yes, of course," Silas nodded emphatically. "The hospital knows it's your order. They take it very seriously. The Chief of Medicine and pediatric specialists are involved as well."

"Mm." Mr. Clemens nodded, then pointed towards the room behind him. "And the little girl also needs the best care not just medically. Ensure all her needs are met, arrange the best professional care, and spare no expense on her well- being."

"Understood. I'll see to it immediately," Silas said, proceeding to relay the orders, then turned to assist Mr. Clemens. "It's late, Mr. Clemens. Shall I take you home to rest?"

"I can't rest until those three kids are fine," Mr. Clemens muttered, using his cane to make his way upstairs. At ninety-six, he marveled; a child had touched his heart. He was just three years old, and yet he was already understanding enough to save his hamburger for his little brother and sister. He chose to quench his hunger with tap water instead.

The nurse had promised to get some food for his sister, and the child offered his book as collateral. "Such good upbringing," he reflected. "What kind of parents raise a child this exceptional?"

The sight of the kid reminded him of Micah, his rascal of a grandson. "Cute as a button when he was a lad, and now, well..." Memories of Micah deliberately vexing him that morning darkened his mood. "The older they get, the more they get on your nerves!"

Silas couldn't help but chuckle. "Mr. Clemens, you're all bark and no bite. You've always had high expectations for Micah; naturally, you're strict with him. But he's all grown up with his own way of thinking. You can't keep tabs on him like when he was a boy."

"He'll always be my grandson, no matter his age," Mr. Clemens said sternly. "He lost his parents when he was just a child. I raised him alone. I'll be damned if I let him follow his father's path."