?<strong>Chapter 790:</strong>


    Elyse pushed Edward back, striding into the shop with determination.


    The shop owner sat by the counter. When the door opened and the bell chimed, he instinctively looked up. The moment he saw Elyse, his eyes widened in surprise. “Rickey Benson! Is that really you?”


    Elyse froze, shocked to hear her father’s name. She looked at the man, bewildered. “How do you know my father’s name?”


    “What are you saying?” The owner’s surprise deepened as he gave Elyse a thorough once-over. “If Rickey is your father, then are you his daughter?”


    Elyse nodded, her curiosity growing as she observed the owner.


    He was a tall, thin old man with graying hair and a beard, hisrge sses perched on a weathered face. As he approached, his emotions seemed to overwhelm him, causing him to bump into the nearby counter.


    Concerned, Elyse quickly moved to support him. “Are you alright?”


    The owner shook his head, his gaze fixed intently on her face. After a long pause, he spoke with emotion, “You bear such a striking resemnce to your father. The moment I saw you, I thought it was him.”


    Elyse felt a wave of emotion wash over her. Since leaving Watscar, her deepest wish had been to follow in her parents’ footsteps, hoping to meet those who had known them.


    Standing before her was someone who had truly been a part of their lives. Elyse was profoundly moved.


    She eximed, “I’m so happy to meet someone who knew my father.”


    The owner chuckled warmly. Returning to the counter, he pulled out a picture frame and handed it to Elyse.


    “Take a look at this. It’s a photo of me and Rickey. I keep it here so I can see him every day. That’s how I recognized him in you,” he said, his eyes softening with warmth.


    Elyse’s gaze lingered on the photo, absorbing every detail.


    In the picture, a young Rickey held a violin, his expression full of energy and hope. The owner, still tall and thin back then, worerge ck sses and a serious look that contrasted with the warmth she now saw in him.


    Elyse held the photo a little longer before finally handing it back. “Were you and my father close?” she asked quietly.


    “We were,” he replied. “He came here for the Swan Cup violinpetition back then, the very one that’s currently happening. After every performance, he’d always stop by to chat with me.”


    The owner adjusted his sses and, with a nostalgic smile, added, “I used to tease him, always asking, ‘Aren’t you going to take thepetition seriously and practice?''”


    Pausing, he adopted Rickey’s mischievous tone, grinning as he said, “Geniuses don’t need to practice, you know.”


    Elyseughed, the yful remark reminding her of Edward.


    She couldn’t resist asking, “What ce did my father end up getting?”


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