The sentence cut off abruptly.

Clara moved forward with unsteady steps, snatching her phone back and instantly ending the call.

Night looked at her in astonishment, unable to fathom why she was suddenly so agitated.

"What’s wrong?"

Seeing his bewildered expression, Clara realized he hadn't heard the full extent of Mrs. Knightley's words.

She breathed a private sigh of relief and looked away, forcing her voice to remain steady. "It’s nothing. I just don't want you two fighting over me again."

The Knightley family had indeed been relentless lately, causing one scene after another to tear them apart, and Night had confronted them several times for her sake.

Hearing her explanation, Night didn't press further. Instead, he asked about her medical results.

"The doctor said there are no major issues. I can be discharged."

Over the next few days back at home, Night barely left the house, spending every moment by Clara’s side.

However, she wasn't her usual lively, smiling self. She spent most of her time staring blankly into space in the corner of the room, her spirits clearly dampened.

Unable to find the cause, Night tried to pull her into his arms to comfort her, but she stood up and headed for the bedroom.

"I’m not feeling well. I need to rest for a bit."

Night watched her retreating back, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

He assumed she was still brooding over the incident at the suite, so he instructed his assistant to prepare a surprise.

On her birthday, he organized a grand gala to celebrate.

Out of respect for Night, most of the social elite attended. In his presence, they were civil enough to Clara.

But the moment he stepped away, they gathered in small circles, their whispers sharp and relentless.

"If it weren't for Mr. Knightley, I wouldn't be caught dead at a servant’s daughter’s birthday party. It’s embarrassing just being here."

"I have no idea what he sees in her. Look at that middle-class, provincial air of hers—it’s suffocating!"

"Mr. Knightley is far too loyal. If it were me, I’d just throw some money at her and be done with it. To actually marry her? That would be a stain on the Knightley legacy."

Despite being the guest of honor, Clara stood alone, abandoned by the crowd.

Listening to the unabashed insults and mockery echoing from all sides, she felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. If she weren't terrified that Night would suspect something was wrong, she would never have stepped foot in this hall.

Due to this deliberate isolation, every second felt like an eternity.

At exactly seven o'clock, the ballroom suddenly surged with excitement.

The guests turned in unison toward the entrance, their expressions of disdain instantly melting into fawning smiles.

News traveled fast in these circles. Everyone knew how Night had brawled for Selene Young’s sake. Seeing them together now confirmed his lingering feelings, and the guests rushed to curry favor.

"Mr. Knightley! So that’s why you slipped away—to pick up Miss Young. After all these years, your bond is truly enviable!"

"Indeed. They are true childhood sweethearts. Look at Miss Young’s poise; she is the perfect match for the legendary Mr. Knightley."

Amidst the sea of speculation, Clara watched as Selene entered, her arm linked through Night’s.

Selene wore a magnificent haute couture gown, a shimmering diamond necklace accentuating her elegant posture. Her delicate, refined face carried the effortless grace that only a lifetime of wealth could cultivate. Standing beside the powerful aura of Night Knightley, she didn't look the least bit out of place.

Inadvertently, Clara remembered a sketch Night had drawn after he regained his sight—a portrait with no facial features.

At the time, he said it was just a casual doodle. She had thought it was beautiful and hadn't questioned him.

But seeing Selene today, she knew exactly who was on that paper.

It wasn't a case of a broken mirror being mended; it was that he had never forgotten her to begin with.

Clara lowered her eyes and turned to leave in silence, but Selene’s voice stopped her.

"Miss Jiang, I heard today is your birthday. I hope you don't mind me dropping in uninvited. I even brought a gift!"

With a wave of her hand, she signaled someone to lead a pure white puppy forward.

"His name is Alis. Isn't he adorable?"

Seeing the puppy bounding toward her, Clara gasped and recoiled, bumping into a table. Her face turned several shades paler, her eyes filled with raw fear and panic.

"Please... take it away. I don't like dogs."

Hearing Clara’s rejection, Selene’s expression fell instantly into a pout.

"Night, is Miss Jiang still angry with me about what happened last time? I should probably go then. I don't want to get in between you two."

As she turned to leave, Night caught her arm and looked at Clara with a frown of disapproval.

"She’s only trying to be kind, Clara. Didn't you always love small animals? Just accept it."

Seeing the flicker of annoyance in his eyes, Clara clenched her fists so hard her knuckles turned white. She could only turn to his secretary for help.

"Secretary Miller, I’m wearing high heels and it’s a bit inconvenient. Could you please hold the puppy for me?"

The surrounding guests began to whisper sarcastically again, murmuring that she didn't know how to appreciate a kind gesture and was only being difficult to get attention.

Night also assumed she was intentionally being cold to Selene. With a darkened face, he led Selene toward the inner hall.

The area cleared out quickly, leaving Clara standing alone. She poured herself a glass of water, drinking it slowly to calm her racing heart and mounting anxiety.

In the past, she truly did love dogs.

But five years ago, on a storm-lashed night during a power outage, Night had come down with a high fever. She had braved the torrential rain to get help, only for a neighbor’s guard dog to chase her down the street, tearing a chunk of flesh from her calf.

She had endured the agonizing pain to bring a doctor back for him, waiting until she was certain he was safe before treating her own wound.

Since then, she lived with a deep-seated trauma regarding dogs, but to keep him from worrying, she had never breathed a word of it to him. Even now, through the fabric of her skirt, she could still feel the jagged outline of that scar.

The people attending the banquet were experts at sensing which way the wind blew. Seeing Night’s dismissive attitude toward Clara, they no longer bothered to hide their disdain.

When the time came for the celebration, the crowd swarmed around Selene, treating her as if she were the one whose birthday it was.

Night’s anger had cooled slightly by then, and he called Clara over to blow out the candles. She walked over silently, but just as she was about to make a wish, Selene let out a delighted exclamation.

"Oh! What a coincidence! Miss Jiang, you and Alis share the same birthday! Why don't we celebrate together?"

A wave of muffled giggles broke out among the guests.

Looking at the blatant provocation in Selene’s eyes, Clara’s fingernails dug deep into her palms. She took a sharp breath, her voice laced with ice. "In that case, let the dog blow out the candles. Everyone can sing 'Happy Birthday' to him. I won't overstay my welcome."

Seeing her actually turn to leave, a vein throbbed in Night’s forehead. He called out to her in a low, warning tone.

"Clara! This banquet was thrown for you. What will it look like if you leave now?"

Clara ignored him and continued toward the exit. Night, losing his patience, caught up and grabbed her, leaning down to whisper urgently into her ear before pushing her back toward the cake.

"Behave! Everyone here is part of our circle. If you storm out now, word will get back to the Knightley family and look terrible. They’ll be even less likely to approve of our relationship."

Approve of their relationship?

What relationship? Hadn't he already married Selene...

The cheerful melody of "Happy Birthday" began to play around them. Clara’s lips twitched into a hollow smile; she stood there as stiff and numb as a statue, showing no sign of joy.

Suddenly, someone scooped up the puppy and thrust it into her arms. Goosebumps erupted all over her skin.

Halfway through the song, the puppy grew restless and lunged forward. It collided with the towering champagne pyramid, sending the glasses crashing down directly toward Clara and Selene.

Screams echoed through the hall. In Clara’s eyes, the falling crystal blurred into jagged streaks of light.

She watched, frozen, as Night shielded Selene in his arms and pulled her safely away. She watched as countless shards of glass and cascades of wine slammed into her own body.

A shard sliced across her fair shoulder, leaving a long, bleeding gash. A line of crimson began to drip down, staining her soaked white dress.

She collapsed to the floor, a cry of pain escaping her lips as cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

Night turned at the sound, and seeing her injured, he moved to go back to her. But Selene shrieked beside him.

"Ah! Night, Alis scratched me! What if I get rabies?"

Glancing at the tiny scratch on Selene’s ankle, Night hesitated for a moment before giving a quick order to his secretary.

"Miller, take Clara to the hospital to get her wound treated."

With that, he hurried away with Selene.

The other guests followed suit, not missing the chance to kick her while she was down.

"Alis, Alis... Miss Jiang certainly has a knack for picking names. Look at her now—doesn't she look exactly like a stray dog?"

"Don't insult Alis! He’s adorable. He’s nothing like some mangy dog trying to climb the social ladder!"

Every word fell clearly onto Clara’s ears. Looking at her own wretched state, her nose stung and tears welled up in her eyes.

The birthday banner wobbled and fell, landing right in front of her.

She picked it up, looking around at the chaotic, empty hall. Finally, with everyone gone, she allowed her tears to fall without restraint.

Her twenty-third year had come to a bitter, miserable end.