After arriving home, Clara pulled out her suitcase and began packing the last of her belongings. She worked until the early hours of the morning. Night still hadn't returned, but she no longer cared.

The next day, Clara went to the immigration office and retrieved all her documents. On her way back, she booked a flight departing that very afternoon.

When her car pulled up to the gate, she noticed the Maybach parked in the courtyard and instinctively quickened her pace. Entering the bedroom, she saw Night walking toward her suitcase, looking as if he were about to open it.

In a moment of panic, she blurted out, "Weren't you staying with Selene? Why are you back?"

Night froze in his tracks. He slowly turned around, and the moment he lifted his gaze, his eyes were filled with uncharacteristic anger.

He walked up to Clara, his voice laced with deep frustration. "Clara, what are you overthinking again? I’ve told you, Selene and I will never have anything to do with each other again."

Never have anything to do with each other again?

And yet, to protect her, you even went as far as to sign a marriage license.

Clara laughed until tears came, but she still chose not to expose him. "Then I must have misunderstood."

Seeing that there was no change in her expression, Night breathed a small sigh of relief. "There’s a family banquet at the Knightley residence tonight. My parents have finally agreed—I can bring you with me."

At this, Clara was stunned.

Mr. and Mrs. Knightley... had agreed?

Seeing her dazed look, Night ruffled her hair and handed her a credit card.

"Don't worry, Clara. One day, I will make them fully accept you, and you will stand by my side in the light of day. I’m a bit tired right now and want to rest. Why don't you let my secretary accompany you to pick out a suitable gown?"

Clara stared at the card for a long time before taking it. "You rest. I’ll go by myself."

Night rubbed his temples and nodded. Clara tucked the documents she had just retrieved into her bag while Night lay down on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Looking at that face—a face that looked no different from when he was seventeen—Clara felt a brief sense of detachment. One last time, she reached out her hand and traced the line from his brow downward.

Perhaps sensing her small movement in his dream, Night caught her hand and murmured softly.

"Selene... don't be a brat."

Hearing that sleep-muttered name, Clara laughed silently. She withdrew her hand, picked up her luggage, and headed downstairs.

The villa was quiet; the servants were all having their afternoon nap. No one knew she was leaving.

On the way to the airport, Clara blocked and deleted every single way to contact Night. Then, she deactivated all her social media accounts.

The busy airport was teeming with people. Looking at the flickering departure screens, she made one final phone call.

"Mrs. Knightley, I’ve arrived at the airport as promised. I’m boarding my flight and leaving now."

On the other end, Mrs. Knightley was clearly satisfied, her voice brimming with ill-concealed joy. "Good. As long as you don't show up at tonight's banquet, the remaining money will be transferred to your account. Then... goodbye."

Listening to the boarding announcement over the intercom, Clara shook her head gently.

"No, Mrs. Knightley. It’s not goodbye. It’s

never see you again

."

With that, Clara hung up the phone, tossed it into a trash bin, and walked through the boarding gate.

With long strides.

Without a single look back.

——————————

Night’s sleep was far from peaceful. He drifted through fragmented dreams of the past; the darkness, the confusion, and the agony of his blind years resurfaced. But this time, the girl who had always stayed silently by his side was gone.

"Clara..."

He murmured her name, his brow knit tight. Trapped in the nightmare, his chest heaved violently. In the dream, he fumbled his way up, searching everywhere for the person who was supposed to be there, but no matter how loudly he called, there was only a hollow silence.

Driven by a surge of terror, his eyes snapped open. Fine beads of sweat clung to his forehead. The blackout curtains were closed, leaving the room in total darkness. His heart hammered against his ribs as he struggled to distinguish reality from the dream.

He sat up, his voice trembling. "Clara?"

The room was silent. He called out again, louder. "Clara!"

When there was still no response, he scrambled out of bed, staggering as he fumbled to turn on the light. The room was instantly flooded with brightness. Only after he saw every corner clearly did he finally let out a sharp breath of relief.

The palpitations from the nightmare began to fade. Night rubbed his temples, but as he realized the person he wanted to see wasn't in the room, he stood there in a daze.

Where was Clara?

His heart, which had just begun to calm, started racing again. He took a sharp breath and flung open the bedroom door. The villa was abnormally quiet, with only a few servants cleaning the living room. Seeing Night emerge from the room, they greeted him in unison.

"Where is Clara?" he asked, almost desperately.

"Miss Jiang? We haven't seen her, sir. Wasn't she having a nap with you in the room?"

Night was about to say something more when the familiar notification tone chimed from the phone in his pocket. He instinctively tapped the message.

It was a voice message from Selene, her tone sounding small and aggrieved.

[Brother Night, the light in my living room is broken, and there’s no one else at home right now. Can you come over and help me?]

Night frowned, about to refuse, but another voice message followed immediately.

[Brother Night, I know you’re taking Miss Jiang to the Knightley house today. I’ll be all alone tonight, and if the lights are out...]

The sentence trailed off into a soft, low sob.

"Call me the moment Clara gets back. I have to step out for a moment."

Leaving those words behind, Night returned to the room to change his clothes, grabbed his car keys from the table, and walked out the door.

When he arrived at Selene’s home and pushed open the door, he saw her lying on the sofa, draped in a thin, revealing nightgown that exposed a vast expanse of her fair skin. At the sound of the door, she opened her eyes, looking dazed as if she had just woken up.

"Brother Night... you're here."

She seemed overjoyed, scurrying over to throw herself into his arms. Her soft frame pressed against him, sending a jolt of sensation through his body.

"Why are you wearing so little? What if you catch a cold?"

He habitually wrapped his arms around her, letting her bury her face in his chest.

"I was a little scared. If you hadn't come, I’d be all alone tonight..."

The piteous voice came from below him, and he replied almost instantly.

"Then come to the Knightley house with me tonight."

The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Just as he was about to say something to take it back, the woman in his arms looked up, her eyes red and shimmering.

"Really? Brother Night, do you mean it?"