017: I'll come to pick you up.

Just before nine o'clock, Dorothy Brown really did come back.

She brought with her a lot of delicious food made at home.

As she took it out for Amelia Clarke to eat, she chattered on and on, "My son got a girlfriend, and out of the blue, she called yesterday to tell me she's pregnant and they're planning to marry. Told me to go back and meet the girl's parents. Oh dear, girls these days want a house, a car, and a savings book when they get married. To acquire a daughter-in-law, his father and I have to pitch in half our lives."

Despite her complaints, Dorothy Brown's face was beaming with joy; she was clearly very happy.

Amelia Clarke smiled and said, "Then congratulations, Dorothy Brown, you're about to become a grandmother."

Dorothy Brown laughed upon hearing this and said, "Raising a child costs so much money..."

Ann Chapman reminded Amelia Clarke not to eat spicy food, and most of the food Dorothy Brown brought had strong flavors, so Amelia Clarke only tasted a little.

Dorothy Brown also minded her injuries and did not let her eat too much.

Amelia Clarke went to the bathroom to rinse her mouth, then went to bed.

Dorothy Brown also tidied up and went to sleep.

Around eleven o'clock at night, the door to the ward was gently pushed open.

Amelia Clarke was sleeping soundly and didn't hear it, but Dorothy Brown, a light sleeper, immediately woke up, put on her coat, and went to look— it was Owen Moreland.

Dorothy Brown was about to turn on the light, but Owen Moreland gestured with his hand to stop her.

Using the light from outside the window, he glanced at Amelia Clarke, who was sleeping soundly on the hospital bed, and asked Dorothy Brown, "How was she when you got back?"

Dorothy Brown was taken aback.

How was she what?

Recalling Amelia Clarke's condition when she got back, Dorothy Brown carefully replied, "She was quite alright."

Owen Moreland nodded and left without saying anything more.

Dorothy Brown didn't understand what had happened and went back to her bed, confused.

By the time Owen Moreland returned to the Morelands' residence, it was already early morning.

The whole mansion was quiet.

He changed his shoes in the foyer and had just entered the living room when Old Lady Moreland's exasperated voice rang out from the couch, "You know to come back!"

Owen Moreland went over, "Grandma, why are you still up?"

Old Lady Moreland looked at him, unable to channel her anger, and berated him fiercely, "I wanted to sleep, but how could I? You tell me, at your age, you still haven't found a wife. All I want is to hold a great-grandson in my lifetime. Are you doing this to spite me? I asked you to have dinner with Serene tonight, where did you go? She waited for you for more than two hours. As a grown man, do you feel no shame?"

Owen Moreland had received a call from the old lady at four in the afternoon, asking him to have dinner with Serene Abel, and he had refused on the spot.

The old lady was stubborn and had arranged the time and place anyway, telling Serene Abel to go there and wait for him.

But how could Owen Moreland be so easily arranged?

"Grandma, I've had someone fetch a piece of jade from Myanmar for you. Later, I'll have someone design a set of jewelry for you."

Old Lady Moreland paused, then her eyes lit up, "Really? What's the quality like? How big is it?"

She loved jade, and upon hearing the word 'jade,' she instantly forgot her anger.

Owen Moreland smiled, "The quality is top-notch; I guarantee you'll be satisfied."

Old Lady Moreland was impatient, "Where is the jade? Can I go see it tomorrow?"

"Of course."

"Then I'll go back to my room to sleep. I'll get up early tomorrow and go out with you."

Old Lady Moreland was as excited as a child, cheerfully turning back to her room, but after only a few steps, she stopped and knocked on her head, puzzled. What had she forgotten?

What was it?

Ah, the perils of old age, her memory foggy; her mind couldn't recall.

Never mind, better to go back to bed early. Tomorrow she would go see the jade with her grandson; that was what mattered.

Owen Moreland curled his lip and went upstairs back to his own room.

He took off his coat and hung it on the rack, loosened his tie, and took out his phone from his pocket to check it.

The screen was clean, no messages and no calls.

The messages previously sent to Amelia Clarke had received no response.

Owen Moreland's thin lips were pressed straight, subtly exuding displeasure.

Suddenly thinking of something, his expression shifted slightly, he tossed his phone aside, picked up the cigarettes and lighter from the coffee table, and walked towards the balcony.

The icy air enveloped him in an instant, the extreme cold bringing some clarity to his mind.

Since when had he become so unsettled by the lack of a reply to a single message?

After one cigarette, his expression had returned to its usual seriousness and calm.

An ordinary and peaceful night passed.

Amelia Clarke quickly packed her things and went to complete the discharge procedures.

At the billing counter, the nurse informed her that the medical expenses totaled 27,860 yuan.

Amelia Clarke was startled and asked without changing her expression, "27,860? Are you sure? I've only been hospitalized for three days."

Didn't they say her injuries weren't serious? How could it cost so much?

Moreover, she only had a bit over ten thousand yuan on her that Owen Moreland had managed to get from the organizers, which wasn't enough.

The nurse smiled gently and patiently explained, "That's correct, Miss Carter, you were staying in a VIP luxury ward, which is 6,800 yuan per day, totaling 20,400 yuan for three days, plus 7,460 yuan for consultation fees, examination fees, and medicine fees."

Amelia Clarke: "..."

How could she have forgotten that the VIP ward was expensive? She should have requested to transfer to a regular ward the moment she realized where she was staying.

With not enough money, what should she do?

Just as Amelia Clarke was uncertain about what to do, the nurse spoke again, "After deducting your medical expenses, there's a balance of 22,140 yuan left."

The nurse efficiently counted out two stacks of bills through the bill detector and handed them over along with a form, "Please sign to confirm."

Amelia Clarke was taken aback, then realized that a deposit must have been made when she was admitted, and likely, Owen Moreland had paid it for her.

After completing the discharge procedures, Amelia Clarke took the money and returned to her ward, where Dorothy Brown was waiting. Seeing her return, Dorothy Brown said with a smile, "All done? Mr. Clark has already driven here and is waiting downstairs. Let's head down now."

Mr. Clark was Owen Moreland's driver.

Amelia Clarke halted Dorothy Brown, who was about to leave with her bag, pushed the remaining deposit money into her hand, and said, "Dorothy Brown, this is the leftover deposit money that Mr. Moreland paid for my hospitalization. Please pass it on to him and also let him know that I'll repay the rest as soon as possible. Thank him for me."

Dorothy Brown pushed the money back into Amelia's hand, shaking her head, "You'd better give him the money yourself, you're going to see each other anyway. Besides, Mr. Moreland has done you a big favor; don't you want to thank him in person?"

"Dorothy Brown..."

"Oh Miss Carter, look at my old age, my memory isn't what it used to be. Would you really trouble me with the few brain cells I have left?"

Amelia Clarke was amused by Dorothy Brown's joke, not expecting her to be humorous.

The two of them went downstairs together.

Dorothy Brown led Amelia Clarke straight to the parking lot, towards a White Range Rover.

The car window was open, and as Amelia Clarke approached, she realized that the person in the driver's seat wasn't the Mr. Clark mentioned by Dorothy Brown, but Owen Moreland himself.

He rested one hand casually on the steering wheel, and the other arm propped on the window, a high-end wristwatch reflecting a blinding light in the sunlight. Between his slender fingers was a half-smoked cigarette, suggesting maturity and steadiness with a hint of roguish charm, a picture of masculinity.

Yet, his expression was somber, lost in thought.

As he looked up and saw them approaching, he took a drag from the cigarette, then pinched it out and threw it away.

Dorothy Brown looked around, puzzled, "Where is Mr. Clark?"

Owen Moreland replied indifferently, "He's occupied, I've come to pick you up."

"Hmm?" Dorothy Brown was even more puzzled, "But Mr. Clark said on the phone just now that he had no other plans today..."

Owen Moreland's deep gaze swept over her lightly, making Dorothy Brown's scalp tingle, and she hurriedly closed her mouth.

Despite Mr. Moreland's usual approachable demeanor, his gaze could be intimidating when he got angry.

Dorothy Brown, bowing her head, put her bag in the trunk and once inside the car, even her breathing became quieter, trying hard to be invisible.

But she didn't understand, she hadn't really said anything, so why was Mr. Moreland upset?