Chapter 487 He Called Him Daddy?
Andy said, "I'll keep going then, Uncle Ethan."
Ethan replied, "You've got this."
Ethan stood behind Andy, watching as the boy continued shooting. The next shots landed on the five-ring and seven-ring targets. For a child his age, this level of marksmanship was truly impressive.
Before long, they had drawn a crowd of onlookers, many taking photos and videos with their phones. The growing noise and commotion began to affect Andy's concentration. His next shot only hit the three-ring, resulting in disappointed murmurs from the spectators.
Ethan knelt down beside Andy, wiping the boy's forehead with a handkerchief. "Remember, Andy, archery requires patience. Don't let yourself get flustered. Block out the noise and the people around you. Focus only on the target and the wind direction. Wait for the right moment before releasing the arrow. Don't let others' expectations throw you off."
Ian watched from the sidelines, struck by how Ethan had naturally fallen into the role of a caring father figure.
"I understand," Andy nodded.
Following Ethan's advice, Andy took a deep breath and blocked out the distractions, focusing entirely on the target.
From his angle, Ian could see both their profiles side by side. The resemblance was uncanny. "Your Highness..." he blurted out.
Ethan shot him a warning glance.
"I mean... sir..." Ian stammered.
"What is it?" Ethan asked tersely.
Ian leaned in and whispered, "Have you noticed how much Andy looks like you? The resemblance is striking—almost like father and son."
Ethan looked at him incredulously. "What are you talking about? He can't possibly be my son."
Yet now that Ian had pointed it out, Ethan couldn't help noticing the similarities between himself and the twin boys, especially Andy.
"Look," Ethan said quietly, "plenty of people look alike without being related. You've been by my side for years—you know my personal life better than anyone."
"I... you're right. Sorry for the strange comment," Ian replied awkwardly.
"Never mind. Go get them some water."
As Ian turned to leave, a cheer erupted from the crowd. Andy had just hit a perfect bullseye.
"Wow! That kid can't be more than five years old and he hit dead center!"
"What a prodigy!"
"Might've just been luck...""What a prodigy!"
"Might've just been luck..."
Nate and Angela clapped enthusiastically. "You can do it! Keep going!" they cheered.
Andy looked up at Ethan, seeking approval.
"Excellent shot, Andy," Ethan said with a smile. "But don't get overconfident. Remember, you need thirty perfect shots to win that toy."
Andy nodded determinedly. "I'll win it, Uncle Ethan. Just watch."
With renewed focus, Andy continued shooting. To everyone's amazement, he hit bullseye after bullseye, each perfect shot drawing more gasps and camera clicks from the growing audience.
Ethan felt a surge of pride watching Andy's performance. The boy clearly had exceptional talent, which spoke volumes about his mother's excellent guidance.
But then his thoughts drifted to the children's biological father... Ethan felt an unexpected pang of jealousy toward the unknown man who had been with Pearl. The emotion caught him off guard, and he was grateful when Ian returned with cold water bottles. He drank half a bottle, trying to suppress these confusing feelings.
If only Ethan knew he was actually jealous of himself!
His thoughts were interrupted by Nate's excited shout.
"Andy, you're amazing!" Nate exclaimed. "Thirty perfect bullseyes! You're my hero!"
"Andy's my hero too!" Angela added.
The crowd erupted in applause as the booth owner took a photo with Andy before presenting him with his hard-earned robot toy—the first prize Andy had ever won on his own.
The owner turned to Ethan with an admiring smile. "Your son is remarkable, sir. You must be doing something right as a father."
"Please, share your parenting secrets! How did you raise such a talented child?" someone in the crowd called out.
Surrounded by curious onlookers recording videos, Ethan graciously deflected the praise. "Andy is indeed remarkable, but the credit goes to his mother's excellent guidance."
"Not just Mommy," Andy chimed in, his face beaming with pride. "I didn't know how to shoot before today. My daddy taught me just now!"
Ethan froze, stunned by Andy's words.
Had he really just called him... daddy?
There was no mistake—Andy had proudly referred to him as his father.
Something warm spread through Ethan's chest at the boy's words. Andy wasn't merely proud of hitting thirty bullseyes; he was proud to have Ethan as his father figure.
About half an hour later, when the crowd finally dispersed, Andy took Ethan's hand in his small one, his cheeks flushed pink.
"Uncle Ethan," he asked softly, "I called you daddy earlier. Are you angry with me?"
Ethan's heart raced at the question.
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