Chapter 620

chapter620

“Absolutely not.” Mackenzie’s inner resolve remained unshaken. To her, respect was earned and mutual, not a ritual of submission.

“Emmanuel, it’s your turn!” Queenie called out. She and Zaniel had already completed their blessings and were waiting at the front of the square. Their eyes held a expectant glint, as if waiting to see how the "outsider" would navigate the village's rigid expectations.

Emmanuel nodded, accepting the traditional ceremonial jackets handed to him by Yosef. He tried to pass one to Mackenzie, but she didn't reach for it. He froze, a sense of impending tension tightening in his chest.

Instead of donning the jacket, Mackenzie stepped forward. With the confident, measured pace she used in the Quillen Group boardrooms, she approached the Old Godfather. “Happy New Year to the patriarch of Hero’s Village,” she said, her voice clear and composed.

A ripple of shock went through the crowd. The villagers exchanged alarmed glances, their whispers rising in a discordant wave.

“How dare she bypass the ceremony?” “Where is the respect for our ways?”

Emmanuel offered a weary, inward sigh. I knew this was coming, he thought. Yosef, standing nearby, looked visibly agitated. “Ms. Quillen, there is a protocol here. I suggest you follow it.”

However, the Old Godfather raised a hand to silence the murmurs. He looked at Mackenzie with a faint, curious smile. “A Happy New Year to you as well. And who might you be, young lady?”

“My name is Mackenzie Quillen. I married Emmanuel this year, and I have come to offer my greetings to you, Old Godfather,” she replied calmly. She remained unaffected by the surrounding glares, her posture perfect and unyielding.

From his vantage point in the crowd, Terence Quillen watched with a flicker of pride. He knew his granddaughter better than anyone; she wasn't one to bend her principles for the sake of local customs.

“Ah, so this is Emmanuel’s wife? Haha… excellent!” The Old Godfather’s laughter was hearty. “It is good to see new life joining our traditions. Hero’s Village is fortunate to have such a spirited addition.”

Mackenzie remained silent, her gaze meeting his without blinking.

After a moment, the patriarch’s tone became more formal. “Since you are now part of this family, why do you choose not to participate in the formal blessing ceremony?”

“With all due respect, I believe my presence and my greetings are sufficient,” she responded directly.

The air in the square seemed to turn cold. Sensing the rising indignation of the villagers, Emmanuel quickly stepped to her side. “Old Godfather, please excuse us. Mackenzie is new to our traditions and perhaps doesn't yet grasp the weight of our village customs. I offer my apologies on her behalf.”

The Old Godfather waved a hand dismissively, his frail expression hardening into something more formidable. He stared at Mackenzie for a long time, searching for a hint of hesitation or fear. Finding none, he struck his cane against the ground with a resounding thud.

“Why do you say there is no need? These rituals represent the foundations of our culture—loyalty and filial piety. They are not merely personal virtues; they are the pillars upon which a stable society is built. Do you believe these values no longer apply to you?”

The patriarch’s presence was indeed imposing, carrying the weight of a century of authority. Even Terence and Alfred felt the pressure; the man was thirty years their senior, a living monument to an era they still respected.

But Mackenzie remained unmoved. “To reference the principles often cited by scholars,” she began, her tone analytical, “loyalty is a commitment to one’s nation, and filial piety is a devotion to one’s parents. Old Godfather, you were the mentor to Emmanuel’s grandfather. While I respect that history, we share no blood relation, nor are you my sovereign. While I do not owe you a ritual of subservience, I do uphold the universal virtue of respecting one’s elders.”

She reached into her bag and produced a formal red envelope. “I respect your status as an elder of this community. I have come to pay my respects and offer this gesture as a sign of goodwill. Please accept it.”

She stepped forward and placed the envelope directly into the Old Godfather’s hand.

The square fell into a stunned silence. It was well-known that the patriarch lived a simple life and rarely accepted material gifts, viewing them as a distraction from the spirit of the village.

However, this time, the Old Godfather didn't return the envelope. He held it, his eyes locked on Mackenzie, the unconventional young woman who had just challenged the social fabric of his village with nothing but logic and a steady gaze.