Kindness of heart

Auntie Red gazed at Percy Spencer's disheveled appearance, and her heart couldn't help but feel a pang of pity.

She spoke softly, her words tinged with a touch of tenderness and concern:

"Miss Dawson that can really be a gentle and virtuous woman, very different from madam, madam in front of people piled up smiling face, behind the scenes is another face.

Miss Dawson is sincere, never two-faced.

I really can't figure out what the reason is that makes you, Young Master, so cold to her, even with a few deliberate distancing?"

Percy Spencer's eyes met with Auntie Red, and for a moment, it was as if a thousand words wanted to pour out.

He opened his lips slightly, his voice low and complex:

"Auntie Red, you are the elder in this house, and it is useless to hide many things from you.

Do you still remember those people who brought us endless suffering in the gravel town back then?

One of them was Lisbeth Dawson's father, Edward Dawson.

The torments they inflicted on us brothers in those days are still fresh in our minds.

For Lisbeth Dawson, I have hatred and helplessness in my heart."

Percy Spencer paused, a flash of pain in his eyes:

"As for Hannah Jones, I don't love her, but after all, she saved me from death twice, and her brother even died because of me, this favor is so heavy that I can't turn my back on it.

Sentiment and moral justice, I chose the latter, this is my responsibility as a man must bear."

With those words, Auntie Red silently exited the room, leaving Percy Spencer in solitude.

Percy Spencer quietly gazed at the portrait of Lisbeth Dawson, the person in the painting was gentle like water, but there was a toughness hidden in the eyes.

After a few moments, he turns gently and walks away with a heavy pace.

Outside the door, Auntie Red sighed softly, both heartbroken and helpless at this overly sentimental character of Percy Spencer.

Back then, the little miss's jokey words of revenge, he even remembered it to this day, rather than condemn himself, he would never want to let others down.

However. In Auntie Red's heart, always feel that Miss Dawson is not the kind of deep hearted people, just this world, where is right and wrong this simple.

Auntie Red shook her head and left with a complicated heart, but deep down, she has a sincere emotion for Lisbeth Dawson.

Lisbeth Dawson, a woman who was soft on the outside but strong on the inside, was at the moment gripped by deep exhaustion.

Not only physical exertion, but also the weight of her mind, leaving her almost breathless.

Living, for her, seems to have become a burden, an unbearable weight.

Percy Spencer, on the other hand, left as silently as a gust of wind.

His destination, once again, was the Diamond Villa, full of memories and sorrow.

...

At that moment, Hannah Jones was in a rage, and the items in her hands were slammed to the ground one by one, until she heard the familiar sound of footsteps, and then she violently stopped all actions.

Her face quickly transformed into a pitiful look, and she quickly stepped forward to meet Percy Spencer, tightly embraced him, with a hint of trembling in her voice: "Percy, I thought that you would never come back to me again, and I'm really scared of losing you."

This scene.

Was a tangle of emotions.

It was also a mix of destinies.

Everyone's heart harbors unknown suffering and struggles.

Percy Spencer's face was like being covered by frost, his eyes were deep and cold, like the unchanging ice, for Hannah Jones's words, he did not say a word, only leaving a silence.

Hannah Jones saw this, her eyebrows slightly knitted, her eyes flowed with toughness, continued to use that gentle and with a few points of prayer voice said, "Percy, don't go tonight, you know, tomorrow is my birthday, I just hope you can accompany me, just this once, okay?"

Her eyes were full of anticipation.Percy Spencer's heart couldn't help but flutter as the memories came flooding back, not only was tomorrow Hannah Jones' birthday, but also the one person that his heart could never forget- the

Helen Jones' Percy.

The two birthdays were actually on the same day, the arrangement of fate was saddening.

He gently shook his head, his tone was calm but it was hard to hide the determination in it, "I'm sorry, I have plans for tomorrow."

His heart had long decided that he would go to that familiar and heartbreaking place.

To go to Helen's tombstone and be with her quietly, as he had done on every birthday before.

At the sound of this rejection, a shadowy glint flickered in the depths of Hannah Jones' eyes.

The flash of emotion was fleeting, so fast that one almost wondered if it was really there.

She stared at Percy Spencer, catching the unquestionable decision in his determined gaze.

Hannah Jones knew that once Percy Spencer had made his decision, it would be difficult to change it.

Resentful as she was, she realized that this time the fault lay not with Percy Spencer's attachment to his old flame, but with her oversensitivity in misunderstanding the purpose of his trip - to

to visit Lisbeth Dawson.

Once again, the innocent name of Lisbeth Dawson is mistakenly thrown into this complicated entanglement.

Silently he suffered the injustice.

In order to hide her inner turmoil, Hannah Jones subconsciously pinched herself, forcing out a few crystallized teardrops, and her body trembled slightly as she did so.

Percy Spencer felt this subtle vibration, and his gaze involuntarily softened, and he lowered his head full of guilt, and the harshness of his inner self was like a wave:

How could I treat Ruoxue like this, a benefactor who had twice pulled me back from the edge of life and death?

If it wasn't for her, I'm afraid I would have long been a shovelful of dust under the yellow earth.

However.

Ruoran ...

The woman who had given me the only light in my life, how could I easily forget?

So, he slowly drew a soft napkin from his pocket and gently handed it to Hannah Jones, his voice full of apologies and tenderness:

"I'm sorry, I really can't find the time tomorrow.

But tonight, I will stay here with you, is that okay?"

And in Hannah Jones' mind, this series of moves was nothing more than a silent contest.

The corner of her mouth curled up in a sneer that no one could detect, and in her mind she thought:

Lisbeth Dawson, you are still too juvenile after all, compared to me, where are you qualified to let Percy stay?

You don't deserve it at all!

You've lost this fight from the start ...

Hannah Jones gently stood on her tiptoes, her eyes shining with anticipation and shyness.

It was like the gentlest breeze of a spring day trying to brush the lake of Percy Spencer's heart.

With a light smile on her lips, she slowly approached the face that made her heart sing, intent on ending this night of sweetness and apprehension with a soft kiss.

And yet.

Percy Spencer, however, as if anticipating this, deftly sidestepped the warmth.

"I'm tired and want to go to bed early, so stop it."

His voice was low and weary, as inscrutable as the distant mountains in the night.

A flicker of loss flashed in Hannah Jones' eyes, only to be quickly replaced by understanding.

She knew Percy Spencer's character and was unwilling to add to his annoyance through her own capriciousness.

So, she pursed her lips, a touch of helplessness and favor flashed in her eyes, and finally gently let go of that untouched tenderness.

In her heart, she thought, tomorrow, she will find another opportunity to express that deep love hidden in her heart.

She gently pulled the bedding for him, as if she was caring for something precious and fragile, and then turned around, leaving a lonely and gentle back.

Meanwhile.

Lisbeth Dawson was in another room.

Is suffering from both physical and mental torture.

The sound of the wind outside the window mixed with the pain in her heart into a sad nocturne, causing her to curl up early into her bedding in an attempt to escape the pain through dreams.

As the night deepened, Lisbeth Dawson's breathing steadied and she sank into a dreamless sleep, as if seeking a moment of peace.

...

The night was late and all was silent, with only the occasional sound of the wind passing through the room.

Percy Spencer lay on his bed, but his gaze was fixed through the pitch blackness and into nothingness.

His thoughts drifted involuntarily to Lisbeth Dawson, recalling that day when he had met her, and it was as if she still carried that strange and familiar aroma.

It was so similar to the scent of her own cherished jade pendant.

But on the contrary, Hannah Jones, who was the real owner of the jade pendant, did not have the slightest hint of that kind of smell on her.

This discovery, like tiny pinpricks, quietly left a question mark in his heart.

It made him unable to help but fall into deep confusion and contemplation.

He shook his head violently, trying to dispel those untimely thoughts, admonishing himself:

The Jones family had confirmed that Hannah Jones was their favorite daughter.

How could such a fact be so easily questioned?

On the other side.

Lisbeth Dawson finally broke free from her chaotic consciousness.

In a trance, she slowly opened her eyes.

"Um, where am I?"

Her voice was weak and puzzled, as if she wasn't quite used to the process of coming back to reality from a dream.

Beside her, Auntie Red was slumbering from exhaustion, but woke up immediately at Lisbeth Dawson's subtle movements, and their gazes met in a half-sleep.

When she saw Auntie Red's face, Lisbeth Dawson was stunned for a moment

and then shrieked out in shock:

"Ah !!!!"

The scream cut through the silence of the night, filled with instinctive fear.

Her body reflexively tried to duck under the bed, but unexpectedly, a sharp pain came like a tidal wave and instantly swept through her whole body, "Ahh! It hurts."

That pain made her almost unbearable, and fine beads of sweat instantly seeped out from her forehead.

Seeing this, Auntie Red rushed forward in concern, "Miss Dawson, are you alright?"

The tone of her voice contained a few moments of panic and self-reproach.

Lisbeth Dawson fixed her mind, realized the misunderstanding just now, and quickly waved her hand and laughed, "Eh? Huh? It's fine, it's fine, it's just that you suddenly appeared in front of me and startled me."

She gently tapped her chest, trying to calm that sudden shock and confused heartbeat.

Auntie Red listened and looked guilty:

"I'm really sorry, I was going to stay here and watch over you, but I was so tired that I fell asleep next to your bed without realizing it.

I didn't expect to scare you, I'm really very sorry."

Her voice was full of sincere apologies.

Those unhappiness and aggravation accumulated at Hannah Jones made her cherish the Lisbeth Dawson in front of her even more, and this pure care was especially precious.

In the initial, Hannah Jones's disguise hides a churlish posture.

Her watery eyes speak as if they could speak, easily tugging at the heartstrings of the onlooker.

Though she has never had the companionship of marriage in her life's journey, nor has she experienced the joy of childbirth, she has poured this maternal light into her body without reservation.

As if she were her own, the love is deep.

However.

Fate has carved an ice-cold crack in this innocent emotion -

Due to an inadvertent mistake, the fragile glass pen that symbolized Percy Spencer's deep love was shattered into pieces in her hands, and became the beginning of her nightmare.

The vicious woman's revenge is as harsh as the winter winds, and one can only imagine how, had it not been for Percy Spencer's timely return, there might have been a new grave in this land, a lonely one that speaks of sorrow.

Suddenly, Lisbeth Dawson's voice rang out with a few moments of feigned relief and laughter, "Oh! It's all right, it's all right."

The words were interrupted by a sudden, violent cough.

It was like the body's protest against this forced smile.

Auntie Red, who was at the side, was quick on her feet and brought a cup of moderately warm honey water.

It was one she'd prepared ahead of time, specifically for emergencies like Lisbeth Dawson's.

"Drink some of that, miss."

The words were filled with concern and anxiety.

Lisbeth Dawson tried to swallow the mouthful of honey water, but it was difficult due to continuous coughing.

The boiling hot water seemed to be pushing her limits.

Each inhalation was accompanied by a burning sensation, and instead of relieving her cough, she inadvertently splashed spittle everywhere.

Her clothes were stained with stars as a result.

It appeared to be quite a mess.

Seeing this, Auntie Red's face became alarmed:

"Little ... lady, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean it."

This seemingly unintentional mistake was actually Auntie Red's little test of Lisbeth Dawson.

Trying to see how the lady would react.

Lisbeth Dawson looked at Auntie Red with a soft gaze.

The splotchy water stains on that body looked like the imprint of her guilt.

"Auntie Red, what are you talking about? Go change into something clean and don't let my negligence get you down. I'll be fine with a little ointment for this little ailment."

Her tone was full of understanding and consideration, with no hint of blame.

Auntie Red froze for a moment.

Then a satisfied smile unfolded.

She then quietly retreated, thinking in her heart that such a kind-hearted and sympathetic young lady for her subordinates was truly rare and precious.

...

Dream.

Early morning sunlight, shyly poking out of the clouds.

It gently sprinkled down on the handsome young man lying on the old wooden recliner.

The golden light mixed with his handsome face, forming a heartwarming picture.

It drew sidelong glances from passing schoolgirls, their eyes sparkling with admiration and curiosity.

Percy Spencer's eyelids fluttered gently for a few moments, as if awakened by the gentle caress of the sunlight, and snapped his eyes open, a hint of confusion and bewilderment flashing through his deep pupils.

Where is this place?

Why are the surroundings so familiar, like every inch of space carries past memories ...

He slowly sat up.

His eyes involuntarily fell on the slightly old but clean and tidy university uniform on his body.

An inexplicable emotion surged in his heart.

A kind of willpower drove him.

Percy Spencer stood up, and his feet unconsciously took steps, each step stepping over the corridors of memory.

As his feet moved, it was as if those dusty past events were unveiled one by one, with temperature and color, vividly emerging before his eyes.

As he walked, he came to the school entrance that had reappeared in his dreams countless times.