The (Un) Mr. Lukcy. Winter
Chapter 93
That afternoon along the way to the Sultan's family home, the child who disturbed Deliza but was eventually beaten up by Zesya who did not accept his sister being bullied. Zehan saw from a spoin in a car,
"Zes, you still don't want to apologize to the Sultan?" Zesya just threw her face out the window of the closed car.
"Son, you're a man acting like a wolf, not a dog" instantly Zesya threw a sharp gaze towards the rearview mirror but from the gurgles of his eyes he seemed to understand the direction of Zehan's words just now.
"And you're Deliza, papa sure not forever you just want to be an angoora cat behind your sister right? Papa's sure you know what you should do with the boy" deliza's countenance also changed instantly when Zehan gave her advice or even gave her a signal that she should be able to repay the child's actions in her own way so that she can better take care of herself. And what Zehan said was not entirely wrong, because one day Deliza must or even want to pursue dreams and ideals that of course Zesya will not always be with her continue as now.
"Yes pa, I understand"
Not long after they had arrived at the parking lot of a house, large enough and luxurious for the size of a house to live in a village.
Hejun had already got off the car first before Zehan even released his sittbelt, Joon Woon was also on standby in front of the car driven by his boss' family. Some neighbors who have great curiosity look like they are professional news hunters, some even accidentally peek at the situation from behind duranta erecta or naughty child plants that are used as a substitute for iron fences.
Zehan opens the car door and takes Hasya's hand carefully, with Joon Woon opening the back door for Deliza and Zesya.
"Thank you Joon" Joon Woon smiled sweetly at Deliza. As soon as he got down from the car Deliza looked around him, but somehow Deliza felt something different aura as soon as she stepped foot following to her two parents. His body felt cold, so that Zesya who was holding Deliza's hand could feel the shivering vibrations from her sister's body.
"Del, you got nothing?" Zesya looked worried. Deliza shook her head, but the look on her face that was so depressed like she was holding something back couldn't lie.
Zehan leads Hasya to the terrace of the house so that he can immediately meet the Sultan's family, the boy who fought with Zesya the other day. Just before Zehan was about to press the bell, the door of the house had already been opened by a middle-aged woman about 50 years old.
"Eh aya guest?? Mango mango lebet bu pa, "welcome the woman kindly to Zehan,
"ohh it's mom, but sorry earlier introduce me Hasya Mama Zesya schoolmate Sultan, and this is my husband, this is my son Zesya and that's my daughter Deliza." Hasya said a little to introduce herself.
"Yeah? Duh sorry I was too shocked, to forget to introduce myself."
"introduce me Sumarni the Sultan's mother." continued the woman while greeting Hasya, Zehan, Deliza and Zesya one by one.
"Yes ma'am, it's okay."
"Please sit down first ma'am, it just so happens that the Sultan is taking a bath, what are you going to drink? hot or cold?"
"No need to bother ma'am"
"ah then I make sweet tea if it is so suitable with the temperature that starts to cool"
"When I'm so sorry we're so troublesome"
"eehh sorry mom wait a minute,"
"Why mom?" Hasya then signaled to Zehan to give a basket of fresh fruits that were brought for the Sultan.
"Why bother to bring all the hands. In jenguk aja Sultan mah must have been seneng, but haturnuhun in his tampi bu" Hasya smiled sweetly while nodding gently.
"Ah just fruits, ma'am" Sumarni then brought the fruit basket to the back. Not long after a man appeared, but the man looked too young if he was the husband of Sumarni.
"Are there guests?" said the man as he greeted his guests one by one while introducing himself. The man was named Hardi, he was the first child of Sumarni. In other words he was the Sultan's eldest brother,
" Oh this is Zesya? Awesome you deck, can you make my sister batapburh hahha?" swoon the man. But even though he laughed still impressed sarcasm for a joke.
"For that sir, we came here to see how the Sultan is doing, because after all Zesya is a martial artist. Which of course the punch will be different from the untrained one" Zehan replied.
"Oh deserved, Sultan until like that, his grandfather can martial anyway, adek learn what it is to be able to make Sultan like that even though he also I teach silat you know."
"Zesya had just learned Taekwondo on Monday, karate on Tuesday, his rabbi silat, thursday judo, on Friday holidays, saturday and Sunday sometimes muay thai sometimes also practiced fencing, hmm like papa with Joon Woon Hyung who taught, Zesya spoiled as long as it does not interfere with learning activities at school Om" replied Zesya trying to be cheerful and adorable like a child of her age who still likes to be too thin. Hejun and Joon Woon to grimace each other throw a glance of disbelief with the behavior of the child.
"Joon, which genie's possession is that boy?" whisky Hejun.
"you nanya? you're wondering" Joon Woon replied with his lips curled.
"Aaiishh crazy bitch" Hejun hissed as soon as he heard Joon Woon's answer.
Shortly afterwards Sumarni returned to the living room with a tray containing warm sweet lemontea drinks followed by a woman who might be his maid and the Sultan of children who fought with Zesya.
"Eh Di, are you home?" said Sumarni's mother while moving the treats from the tray to the guest table.
"New to mom" the man replied briefly.
"Are you acquainted with Hasya's mother's family?"
"it's mom, just before mom came" he replied ketus. Honestly, Hejun's hands were itching to beat the man because he had been rude to his mother. His mother was very friendly and humble.
"Sultan come on son, salim first, it's your friend come jenguk you know" although it looks reluctant and forced but the Sultan still obeys the words of his mother, but still obeying the words of his mother, after the completion of the Sultan immediately approached his mother again without changing his pouting expression.
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