CHAPTER 396: CHAPTER 396: REGRET

Old Man Jennings took a moment to understand what Paige Sterling meant.

He was on the losing side, naturally itching to play game after game, hoping to clinch a win.

However, for the winner, constantly crushing someone not on the same level grows dull quickly.

Old Man Jennings felt a bit awkward, "Young lady, how about I become your apprentice?"

Every game Paige Sterling played was full of vivid imagery.

Not only did she win against her opponents, but she also turned the game into a piece of art—truly exceptional.

He now saw Paige Sterling as a top-tier chess master.

He’d never encountered such a master before, and he regretted letting her leave without contact information for future lessons.

"I don’t take apprentices."

Paige Sterling stood up to leave when another old man arrived, "I heard there’s a young lady who’s great at chess here, where is she?"

The crowd parted to let the old man through.

Paige Sterling recognized the old man and was slightly taken aback—it was Old Mr. York.

Old Mr. York also lived in the estate area, with several successful descendants in the military, government, and business sectors.

Old Mr. York looked at Paige Sterling and was stunned.

He had essentially watched Paige Sterling grow up, and despite her wearing ugly glasses, he recognized her immediately.

"Paige?" he said incredulously, "Is that you, the amazing young lady?"

Paige Sterling replied, "I’m not amazing."

Oh dear, this old man was a chess fanatic—once he latched onto someone skilled, he’d insist on playing for three days and nights.

The thought of being dragged into a never-ending chess marathon made Paige Sterling’s scalp tingle with fear.

Playing chess occasionally was fine as a hobby, but non-stop was unappealing.

Yet the surrounding old men were quickly exposing her skills.

"It’s her; this young lady’s exceptional—from start to finish, Old Man Jennings never stood a chance..."

"That’s right, we witnessed her win game after game; she’s just being modest..."

Old Mr. York chuckled, "Paige, how about playing a few games with Grandpa?"

What could Paige Sterling do? If she didn’t play now, Old Mr. York might come to her home later.

She nodded and sat back down.

She clarified, "I have things to do at home, this really is the last game."

Old Mr. York, hearing her words, understood that she’d been playing under peer pressure from the other old men.

He nodded, "Alright, just one game."

With everyone claiming Paige Sterling was formidable, Old Mr. York naturally dared not underestimate her.

And since Paige Sterling only agreed to play one more game, he had to muster all his strength to see her true capability.

Thus, they engaged in battle across the chessboard.

Old Mr. York’s rank was evidently above that of Old Man Jennings. Previously, Paige Sterling needed only minutes to defeat Old Man Jennings.

But against Old Mr. York, Paige Sterling ended up battling for a full thirty minutes.

She didn’t hold back, since letting up against these older gentlemen would only insult them.

Offending the elderly was ill-advised, so Paige Sterling gave it her all.

In the end, Old Mr. York predictably lost.

Yet he sensed that Paige Sterling’s skills were indeed out of the ordinary.

He asked Paige Sterling, "Why do you insist on forming patterns with your moves?"

He noticed that if Paige Sterling hadn’t aimed for these final images, she’d have won much earlier.

Paige Sterling replied, "It’s appealing to me; I enjoy it."

Old Mr. York, "..."

Slightly intrigued, he tentatively suggested, "Paige, how about another game...?"

Paige Sterling responded, "No, the last game was agreed upon already, I need to head home to check on my dad."

Old Mr. York sighed, "Could you at least tell Grandpa when you learned to play Go?"

Paige Sterling pondered, realizing some things were better left unsaid, then explained, "I plan to incorporate this skill into intelligent robots, so I’ve been practicing."

Just practicing and she’s already this impressive?

The Sterling Family’s girl truly displayed intelligence beyond the average, Jared Sullivan’s fortune seemed unparalleled; his only daughter outdid others’ multiple offspring effortlessly.

But quickly, Old Mr. York realized another point, "You’re saying Go skills will be updated into intelligent robots?"

Paige Sterling nodded.

Old Mr. York became excited since his household also had a Penson robot. Once updated, the robot could accompany him in playing Go.

He further asked, "Will the robot surpass you?"

Paige Sterling considered, then replied, "Can defeating professional-level players be considered impressive?"

Old Mr. York, "...!!"

His smile widened, feeling he’d finally found a rewarding pursuit for his remaining days—beating the robot.

"Grandpa awaits your update. Go on home now."

Old Mr. York beamed, "Off you go, I just saw your dad return..."

Paige Sterling feared the old men would insist on her staying, so she dashed off promptly.

However, her departure spawned discussions among them.

Upon learning from Old Mr. York that the girl was Penson’s founder, these grandfathers shared the melancholy of their own children’s inferiority compared to others’ prodigious offspring.

Soon, rumors of Paige Sterling’s chess prowess spread through their conversations, becoming increasingly exaggerated.

Enthusiasts yearned to challenge Paige Sterling.

Yet, unable to locate her, they turned to Jared Sullivan instead.

Jared Sullivan lived daily amidst envy and admiration for his daughter’s achievements; the gloom from divorcing Yvette Hughes vanished through Paige Sterling’s talents.

Quickly, the Go feature was updated into the robots—furthermore, Paige Sterling introduced several games for seniors, including teaching them square dancing.

Many household robots, which previously engaged kids in brain games, were now monopolized by grandparents.

...

This day, Paige Sterling exited her company premises when a woman rushed at her from afar.

Paige Sterling dodged swiftly, causing the woman to nearly collide headfirst into the wall.

With a touch of resentment, she gazed at Paige Sterling, "Paige, you have a heart of stone..."

Paige Sterling grimaced, eyeing Penelope Thatcher, "Do you need me for something?"

Penelope Thatcher blinked, "You’ve ignored me for ages, I miss you."

Unperturbed, she linked arms with Paige Sterling, "Paige, your arm feels so tense, shall I take you to relax a bit?"

"Relax?"

Penelope Thatcher suggested, "A massage session."

Paige Sterling thought, household robots handled that just fine—no need for outside services.

She declined firmly.

Penelope Thatcher pouted, "Then, shall we go shopping?"

Paige Sterling had no interest in shopping.

Penelope Thatcher realized she couldn’t find a trace of traditional female interests in Paige Sterling anymore.

She noted, "Paige, you’re becoming more robotic—it’s all experiments, and you’ve been neglecting me..."

Tears welled in Penelope Thatcher’s eyes with a genuine sense of abandonment.

Paige Sterling grimaced, "Fine, let’s go to the mall."

Penelope Thatcher’s face lit up, "Great, Paige, let’s go!"

Paige Sterling didn’t have any particular shopping list—just idly browsing.

Indeed, it had been a while since she’d ventured out—sometimes a stroll proved rewarding.

However, she soon regretted coming with Penelope Thatcher.

She should’ve spent time with Julian Hawthorne—what was she doing with Penelope Thatcher? She wasn’t her partner.

As she pondered this, she realized Penelope Thatcher had suddenly stopped.

Paige Sterling turned to see Penelope Thatcher faced a stranger—a woman holding Penelope’s arm, seeming very familiar.

"Oh dear, sis, mom’s fainted at home, I’ve been trying to reach you and can’t—searching everywhere. Come, let’s hurry back to mom."

Sister?

Paige Sterling raised an eyebrow, staring at Penelope Thatcher.

Penelope Thatcher wore a strange expression, signaling to Paige.

Paige Sterling’s gaze slid downward, noticing a hidden knife in the woman’s sleeve, nudging Penelope’s side.

The woman grinned threateningly at Paige Sterling, indicating she’d stab Penelope if Paige dared to shout.

Penelope Thatcher trembled, her fear palpable.