Chapter 9: Deals, Drama, and Daylight

A Garden of Bonds

After the delivery arrived, Eon dismissed the servants. 

The spiritual artifacts were stored in an antique sandalwood box, its intricate carvings and luxurious finish hinting at its age and value. Opening it revealed a dazzling array of gold, silver, and jewels, glittering under the sunlight. 

Eon wasn't an expert in antiques, but even she could tell the box alone was worth millions. The realization of her current financial state hit her again, and she sighed, making a mental note of the favor she owed. She then settled into meditation, absorbing the faint spiritual energy from the artifacts. 

For someone who had nearly ascended to godhood, the energy here was pitifully sparse—barely enough to qualify as a snack. 

"Darling." 

It was Vivian. 

Eon was in the middle of planting herbs, her small hoe moving rhythmically through the soil. The sheer volume of herbs meant she couldn't rely on storing them as elixirs—herbal concoctions would spoil over time, and she didn't need such a large quantity for her current project. 

But waste wasn't an option. Planting the extras ensured a steady supply for future use, a necessity for someone as broke as she was. 

Eon glanced up. "Didn't you rest?" 

Vivian reached out to gently pat Eon's head, smiling. "I couldn't sleep. I wanted to spend more time with you." 

Eon still wasn't used to such closeness, but she didn't pull away. 

Vivian eyed the pile of herbs. "There's so much to plant. Can I help?" 

Though she didn't understand her daughter's newfound passion for gardening, Vivian was eager to learn. She had missed 23 years of her daughter's life and was determined to make up for lost time. 

Eon hesitated. The work seemed ill-suited for someone like Vivian, but the hopeful look in her mother's eyes made her reconsider. 

"How about you hold the herbs steady while I plant them? It'll help keep them straight." 

The request sounded absurd even to Eon, but Vivian, a complete novice, was thrilled. 

"Of course! Don't worry, I won't slow you down. Let's get started—we'll finish before sunset!" 

Eon: "…" 

Two hours later, the two amateur gardeners finally finished planting the herbs, their hands caked in soil. The remaining herbs, which Eon planned to use immediately, were carefully set aside. 

Vivian pointed at them. "Aren't we planting these?" 

Eon shook her head. 

Vivian frowned, her tone serious. "But these look even healthier than the ones we planted. They'll definitely thrive." 

Eon couldn't help but laugh at her mother's earnestness. "You're right, but I need these today. Don't worry—the ones we planted will grow just fine." 

As a wood-attribute cultivator, Eon had infused the herbs with spiritual energy, enhancing their vitality and medicinal potency. 

Vivian reached out to tousle Eon's hair, her heart swelling with affection. "My darling, you have such a beautiful smile." 

Eon blinked, then smiled back. "You're beautiful too." 

At 12:30 PM, Lucian arrived right on time. 

Eon had no interest in socializing beyond selling her herbal concoctions, and Lucian was more than happy to spend time alone with her. They were a perfect match in their mutual desire for simplicity. 

Lucian had driven himself, and after a quick word with Vivian, Eon grabbed her pink thermos and headed out. 

Vivian watched from the doorway, only relaxing when she saw Lucian. 

"Auntie," Lucian greeted, straightening from his casual lean against the car. His demeanor was every bit the elegant nobleman. 

Vivian smiled. "Lucian, I'm glad it's you. Take good care of my daughter—she's still new to the city." 

"I will," Lucian assured her. 

Eon turned to Vivian. "Go inside. It's cold out here." 

Vivian, touched by her daughter's concern, hugged her tightly before finally heading back inside. 

Lucian's white Porsche was warm and comfortable, and he made a show of opening the door and buckling Eon's seatbelt. 

But instead of pulling away, he lingered, pretending to shiver. "Eon, it's so cold." 

Eon raised an eyebrow. "You're… deficient too?" 

She nodded thoughtfully. "I'll make you a special blend when we get back. Guaranteed to fix you right up." 

Lucian: "…No, I'm not deficient." 

He sighed, retreating to the driver's seat. Eon, however, wasn't convinced. She grabbed his wrist, her expression serious. 

"Denial is dangerous. Let me check your pulse." 

Before she could, Lucian intertwined their fingers, his grip firm. "Your hands are cold. Let me warm them." 

Eon shrugged. Free hand warmer? Why not. 

But just as Lucian began to relax, Eon pulled her hand back. 

"Do you have a fiancée? Or a girlfriend?" she asked bluntly. 

Lucian's eyes widened, and he placed a dramatic hand over his heart. "No! I'm not that kind of person!" 

"If I had a fiancée or girlfriend, I'd only hold her hand and let her sit in this seat!" 

Eon studied him for a moment before nodding. "Good." 

She placed her hand back in his, content to enjoy the warmth. 

Lucian's throat tightened as he interlaced their fingers again, subtly tightening his grip. "How are you finding life at the Ravencroft estate?" 

Eon considered the question. "It's not bad." 

She loved the garden—it was spacious, and the soil was perfect for growing herbs. Her brother was kind, and her mother was surprisingly affectionate. 

Well, except for the pink-themed room. 

Her gaze fell on the pink thermos sitting on the dashboard, and she grimaced. Eyesore.