Birthday Gift

"Mm." Damon responded indifferently, not getting out of the car. He turned the steering wheel, preparing to leave.

"Wait," Caroline hurried a few steps, her expression filled with hesitation.

She bit her lip, deliberating for a moment, then extended her hand towards Damon. "What about my birthday gift?"

Damon raised his gaze, scanning the surroundings briefly.

He retrieved a dress from the backseat and passed it to her through the window. "If I had known you were from a rich family, I wouldn't have bothered buying a gift. But, happy birthday."

At Windy City University, everyone's identities were kept confidential.

Therefore, Damon didn't know Caroline's true background, just as Caroline didn't know his occupation.

"Thank you. I'll treat you to breakfast tomorrow, so you don't get caught by the old man at the gate again." Caroline smiled happily as she accepted the gift.

Damon didn't respond.

He merely gave a faint smile before driving away.

At the mansion's entrance, the elderly housekeeper stood waiting at the door.

"Miss, you've returned. The master and mistress are still awake, waiting for you in the living room to celebrate your birthday."

Caroline walked into the villa, carrying the gift, and replied cheerfully, "What difference does it make if it's earlier or later? It's still tonight."

The housekeeper, eager to gossip, cautiously asked, "Miss, who was the gentleman who just dropped you off? Is he your boyfriend?"

"Not yet, but he's someone I like," Caroline said, unwrapping Damon's gift as she spoke.

Suddenly, she paused, staring at the orange dress in disbelief.

"Miss, is something wrong?" The housekeeper glanced at the label on the dress.

Shan Global Mall?

A mainstream brand—quite lowbrow!

Caroline stomped her foot, displeased. "This isn't supposed to be it! Uncle Yang specifically told me he bought a beautiful dress from our store!"

"This…"

The housekeeper, an experienced woman, understood Caroline's frustration.

She believed it was time to discuss with the master and mistress about finding a suitable partner for their daughter.

But she had also observed the man who had just dropped Caroline off.

He was good-looking, had a nice car—just needed to investigate a little more into his background.

...

At 3:00 AM, on the outskirts of Windy City.

In a two-story house, Damon lay in bed, tangled in blankets.

His body was drenched in cold sweat, his back soaked through.

His long form was curled tightly, occasionally twitching.

"Zia, no…"

In his dream, Damon murmured brokenly.

His once-beautiful face was drained of color, pale like porcelain.

His taut skin glistened with translucent beads of sweat.

His lips were torn in several places, blood slowly dripping from them, splitting, merging, and breaking open with each moment.

"Zia, run! Run!"

Suddenly, a loud scream filled the silent room, filled with terror.

Damon jolted awake, his tea-colored eyes wide open.

He sat up sharply, the movement pulling at the wound on his chest, sending a sharp pain through him.

He pressed his hand to his chest, gasping, his face turning even paler.

Dingling!

The phone on his nightstand suddenly rang.

The screen flashed with a name: Jay.

Damon furrowed his brows and answered the call.

His voice, usually cold, was now hoarse and rough. "What's going on, calling so early?"

On the other end, Jay's voice was urgent, nearly frantic. "Zia's condition has worsened. She's just been rushed into the ER. Get over here now."

Damon fell silent for a moment, his thoughts flickering to Zia.

He pressed his cracked lips together and said, "I'll be there right away."

A night of unsettling dreams, a time of trouble ahead.

It seemed their relationship was fated, like the ancient saying: A beauty, like a renowned general, should never grow old in this world.

...

At 4:00 AM, Damon rushed to the Provincial Hospital in Windy City's city center, where he waited with Jay outside the emergency room.

Six years ago, Zia had been in a car accident.

Jay, their mutual mentor, had recommended this hospital to Damon, asking a friend to take special care of Zia.

Now, six years later, though Zia had not woken up, her body remained in excellent condition thanks to the nurses' attentive care.

Her bones, muscles, and skin were all in remarkably good health.

In the past, Damon would visit Zia every day, speaking to her, wiping her arms, doing small leg massages as part of her recovery.

But ever since Elena came into his life, Damon had gradually reduced the frequency of his visits.

He would come in a hurry, stay for only a brief moment, and then leave again.

It seemed he was particularly worried about the vampire left at home.

Inside the ER, the red light on the door remained on, signaling no end in sight.

In the corridor, Damon crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, quietly waiting.

His flawless face showed little emotion.

His skin was pale, almost translucent.

His lips were pressed together lightly.

His tea-colored eyes, deep as the ocean, showed no emotion, like an ancient well, calm and still.

Jay opened his briefcase and took out a pineapple bun, offering it to Damon.

With a warm smile, Jay, in his older age, said, "You haven't eaten yet, have you? You loved these when you were younger."

Damon took the bun, but the smile on his lips was dry.

He opened the packaging and smelled the sweet fragrance of the bun.

It was indeed the taste of old memories.

Unfortunately, he had no appetite now.

His mind was occupied with worry for the person inside the emergency room.

"Damon, can we talk for a minute?"

Jay gave Damon a glance and walked to the corner by the stairs.

He stood by the glass window, watching the crowd below, lighting a cigarette and silently taking a drag.

"You really should quit smoking. Your health is deteriorating," Damon remarked.

Clearly, this was a more serious conversation than he had expected.

"At my age, can't you just let me have my peace?"

Jay waved his hand dismissively, taking two more deep puffs before flicking the remaining cigarette out the window.

Damon reached out, feeling the warmth of the early morning sun against his palm.

The silver light shimmered, resembling Elena's eyes, beautiful and radiant. "What do you want to talk about?"

Under the sunlight, Jay wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, his expression awkward.

He asked, "Be honest with me—did you ever think about waking Zia up?"

Damon was slightly stunned, pausing for a moment.

His tea-colored eyes slowly lowered.

His thick lashes hid the depths of his gaze.

After a long silence, Damon softly responded, "Professor, are you referring to the Vampire Clan research?"