Apart from the Riddle Mansion, the oldest buildings in the town are the Hanged Man Tavern and a cemetery not far away.

Four or five miles further away is Great Hangletonshire, which is Cyrus's real destination this time - Gaunt's old house. But before going to the old house, Cyrus plans to find a place to stay first.

"Hello, sir."

When Cyrus got out of a dilapidated car, an old man seemed to have been waiting here for a long time. He had gray hair, a hunched body, a lame leg, and his voice was trembling when he spoke.

Not far away, the men and women who were originally planning to do farm work stopped and looked at the old man in astonishment, as if he was a ghost that appeared from somewhere.

"Frank Bryce?" Cyrus held the gentleman's cane in one hand, his suit jacket hanging on his arm, and lifted his hat with the other hand, looking at the old man in front of him.

"It's me, sir..." Frank said tremblingly. He probably wanted to reach out to support Cyrus, but after noticing the extremely expensive-looking suit Cyrus was wearing, he immediately retracted his hand in fear.

"I think you should have heard that I bought the Riddle Mansion. The government should have informed you." Cyrus didn't pay attention to the road here, his shiny leather shoes stepped on the mud.

"Yes, sir, yes." Frank nodded hurriedly, his heart filled with confusion again. He had been working as a gardener at the Riddle Mansion for fifty years. Now, even the owner of the mansion had died mysteriously for fifty years, but he still lived honestly in the shabby shed in the garden of the mansion.

Now, the mansion has a new owner, and he doesn't know what fate he will face next.

He still has not been able to get rid of the suspicion of the mysterious death of the Riddle family. Will this gentleman continue to employ him? Even if this is put aside, he is already very old.

If he was fired, where would he go?

Under the gaze of the people in the town, Cyrus followed Frank to the mansion on the hillside in the distance. Unlike London, the weather here was very clear, and the Riddle Mansion, which was covered with vegetation, looked lush and green from a distance.

But when you get closer, you can see that the mansion is completely dilapidated.

The wildly growing weeds popped up from every crack, the ivy on the wall also invaded the house, the glass of the mansion was broken, the wooden doors and beams were in disrepair and covered with mold, and some had even been eaten away by insects and ants.

He doubted how long the mansion could hold out without collapsing.

"Sir, I..." Cyrus gave him a gesture, indicating that he didn't need to say anything more. Frank had no choice but to close his mouth in confusion, and it was unknown what kind of emotion was hidden under his old face.

Perhaps, he was thinking that dying this way would be easier.

For decades, he has been staying in this small house. For him, time has long been stagnant. If he leaves here, he will be just a person abandoned by the times, with no place to survive.

He sighed, his loose and stiff face moved, and finally decided to say something. But as soon as he raised his head, his cloudy eyes saw that the gentleman actually picked up a delicate little wooden stick.

Then, the stubborn weeds disappeared, the overgrown ivy became docile, the broken glass and some other things were repaired miraculously in front of Frank's eyes, and the collapsed sculptures seemed to come alive, jumping up lightly and posing in a beautiful pose.

It was as if time had gone back for them, and in the blink of an eye they had returned to their brand new appearance of fifty years ago.

The messy yard suddenly became clean and looked much more spacious. The blocked and abandoned fountains and pools in the courtyard also came alive, and the clear water sparkled in the sun.

Frank thought he was dreaming and rubbed his eyes hard with his fingers, which were rougher than dry branches.

"Sir, this..."

He was full of questions, but before he could ask, Cyrus had already pointed his wand at him.

"Oblivion is emptiness."

The images in Frank's mind seemed to be cut off, and then spliced ​​with other messy images. All of a sudden, in his memory, the image of Cyrus waving his wand had completely disappeared, and was replaced by a group of unrecognizable maintenance workers who were constantly repairing the manor.

Old Frank was called back from those false memories by Cyrus's call, and when he came to his senses, he found that he was no longer standing in the manor, but sitting on a beautiful chair, and the gentleman was sitting opposite him.

He suddenly became panic-stricken and tried to stand up quickly to avoid being annoying.

"Please sit down, Bryce, no need to be so reserved." Cyrus comforted him and reached out to push him back into the chair. The old man seemed uneasy and looked around the room in panic.

Although he had worked as a gardener here for more than fifty years, he actually entered the mansion very few times. Apart from cleaning and repairing the windows that were smashed by the children in the town, he hardly dared to set foot inside the house.

Even so, he still clearly remembered all the furnishings and positions in the house, but now everything had changed. The new owner of the house had obviously made huge changes to it.

Now the whole mansion looks very exquisite and not so dim anymore. The sunlight shines in through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, giving it a sense of renewed vitality.

"Bryce, I heard that you have been staying here for so many years. I think you can continue to live here in the future." Cyrus said generously.

"Sir, are you telling the truth?" Old Frank almost cried, his eyes were filled with tears. If he hadn't been sitting on a chair, he would have immediately knelt down in front of Cyrus.

But even so, he still said: "Sir, you are a good person, willing to take in an old useless person like me, but you may not have heard some rumors..."

"You mean to tell me that you were once thought to be the murderer of the Riddle family?"

"Sir, if you know this, why do you still do it?"

"I think people need to be able to discern unfounded rumors to a certain extent." Cyrus knew the truth. The person who killed the Riddle family had nothing to do with this poor old man. "Since the police have no evidence to arrest you, and you have been so diligent over the years, I believe you can't be the murderer."

Old Frank probably had never experienced such firm trust before, and he was ready to sacrifice his life for Cyrus. However, an old man like him could not help Cyrus at all.

Cyrus just took pity on him, so he kept him.

"I won't stay here often, so someone still needs to take care of it. Also--" Cyrus stood up and slowly walked to the door of the mansion.

At this time, old Frank saw a huge python coming out from somewhere. He trembled all over and was about to shout a warning, but he saw the python sticking obediently to Cyrus' feet, rubbing its flat head against his trouser legs, just like a puppy.

Cyrus reached out and gently stroked the python, as if greeting an old friend.

"Also, Bryce, if other 'guests' come here, you should leave first. There is an old house in the town where you can stay. Don't disturb them." After saying that, Cyrus left with the python regardless of any reaction or question from Frank Bryce.

"gentlemen!"

Bryce yelled, "What should I call you?"

"You may call me Cyrus, or, if you prefer, you may continue to call me Riddle."

Old Frank stood there blankly. The bright sunshine shone on him, but for some reason, he felt a chill.

People said that he was like a ghost guarding the Riddle Mansion and that terrible and bizarre murder story, but today, he seemed to have really seen a ghost of the Riddle family.

Now that I think about it, this gentleman does seem very familiar.

He remembered that he seemed to have seen a similarly handsome boy one night.

(End of this chapter)