Ethan was still checking to see if Clara and Lulu were hurt, but Clara’s sudden proposal left him completely stunned.

"Get married?"

Clara comforted Lulu as she spoke methodically, "I want to become Lulu’s legal guardian, but my current status doesn't allow it. If we get married and obtain a certification, it should work. We can get it done within two days at the latest—it's not too late."

The man across from her didn't answer immediately. He simply closed the door, changed his shoes, and walked into the living room. He asked her, "And if I don't agree? Do you plan to find just any man to marry?"

Clara froze; she hadn't thought that far ahead.

At worst, if she couldn't get married, she would forge an adoption certificate—at least enough to bluff the troublemakers away.

Of course, it would be best if Ethan agreed.

She shook her head and answered truthfully, "No. I’ve only considered you. Once the marriage certificate is issued, it's real regardless of the intent. I wouldn't trust anyone else."

Ethan gave a faint smile. "You trust me?"

She nodded earnestly.

Her overwhelming candor left Ethan momentarily speechless.

"I will consider it seriously. I’ll handle the man who came today—I can have him detained for at least a month. You have plenty of time to find a solution, so don't rush. Marriage is a major life event; don't give up on it so easily."

He spoke with such gravity that one might have mistaken him for an elder giving advice.

Clara curled her lips into a smile, her response laced with hidden meaning. "I gave up on it a long time ago."

That five-year marriage had already drained her of every drop of her spirit.

Since Ethan was there, she prepared a meal as usual. She learned that Ethan was a curator who had been flying everywhere for work recently.

His presence in the small village was due to a natural landscape he found suitable for an exhibition, which he had been scouting.

By the end of their conversation, Ethan took the initiative to say, "I’d like to borrow a few of your pieces for the exhibition. Would that be alright?"

Clara’s eyes lit up. Nothing brought more joy than having one's work validated.

She could hardly believe it, confirming hesitantly, "Am I... good enough?"

Ethan countered, "Why wouldn't you be?"

She immediately brought out all her work, displaying it to him like a prized treasure. In the end, Ethan selected three pieces and provided a generous deposit.

Clara had no idea her talent was actually worth so much money.

Two days later, the exhibition opened as scheduled.

The village, which usually saw few people during the day, was packed to the brim—it had never been this lively.

Clara arrived with Lulu and saw Ethan from a distance. He was greeting visitors, wearing a high-end suit she hadn't seen before. He looked out of place in this environment, yet strangely harmonious.

Looking further back, she saw her own works hanging right in the center.

It made her feel both bashful and immensely proud.

"Mama, you're the only one who has three paintings hanging up!"

Lulu was a sharp child; after a quick lap around the room, she tugged on Clara’s sleeve.

Lulu loved calling her "Mama"—it felt close, and she had always wanted a mother.

Clara, for her part, had encouraged the title solely to confuse those who harbored ill intentions toward the girl.

Prompted by Lulu, Clara noticed the small detail herself.

However, she remembered Ethan's tone when she proposed marriage—it sounded like a polite refusal.

He probably didn't have feelings for her; he likely just genuinely appreciated her art. Nothing more.

As visitors flowed in and out, Clara was lost in the moment. But when she turned around, the smile on her face collapsed instantly.

Arthur was standing behind the crowd, silently watching her.

The moment their eyes met, his gaze brightened, and he strode quickly toward her.

Clara turned immediately and melted into the crowd.

Even so, Arthur managed to intercept her outside the venue.

"Clara, what a coincidence."

Arthur spoke with an awkwardness that didn't fit the situation. He stared at her, his face full of trepidation. He tried to pretend he wasn't nervous, but his trembling hands gave him away.

Clara didn't mince words and asked directly, "Arthur, was what I said last time not clear enough? Why are you still hounding me?"

He hadn't expected her first words to be so hurtful. Arthur looked wounded for a moment, but he quickly masked it, his tone becoming pleading. "I came to apologize."

"This time, I am truly sincere. I will keep apologizing until you forgive me."

He was persistent and determined.

Just as he had been with Mia.

Clara looked at him coldly, her heart remaining perfectly still.

It was strange. In the past, seeing him would make her either happy or sad—mostly miserable and angry. Even the last time she saw him, she felt nauseous.

But this time, she felt absolutely nothing.

No joy, no sorrow, not even the urge to criticize.

To her, Arthur was now a stranger who could no longer stir her emotions.

As for his apology, it was an utterly redundant thing.

Like smoke, it would vanish with the slightest breeze.

However, he refused to give up. He took a step forward, attempting to grab Clara’s hand, his face full of resolve and hope. "The people who bullied you... I’ve dealt with them all. I’ve sent Leo to a specialized school. I won't let you suffer any more grievances."

He firmly believed that as long as he cleared away the external complications, Clara would return, and they could go back to the way they were.

No—he would do even better than before. He would cherish her more and make her feel his sincerity.

Looking at the man’s self-assured expression, Clara suddenly felt it was all very pointless. "Why?"

Arthur was confused. "Why what?"

She continued flatly, "Why are you suddenly so obsessed with winning me back? Is it out of spite? Or do you think I'm still the same as I used to be? Or are you just not used to a life where no one waits on you?"

Arthur’s lips parted and closed. He wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come.

His mind went blank, unsure of how to respond to her interrogation.

But Clara didn't stop. "Arthur, do you even like me?"

Arthur stared at her, dazed.

Like?

He had never deeply considered that emotion. He only knew that Clara was supposed to be by his side as a matter of course; that they were meant to grow old together.

Seeing his bewildered expression, Clara already had her answer. She looked down and let out a bitter laugh. "Arthur, you haven't changed a bit. No matter how much you claim you've changed or how well you say you'll treat me, you're still the same person."

"You are still just as selfish, just as reckless, and just as ready to trample on someone else's heart."

"Once a heart is gone, it's gone. No matter how many times you bow your head, it won't come back."

Her voice was very soft, as if it were about to vanish.

Arthur felt a sense of losing his grip on her and tried desperately to salvage the situation. "If I find evidence that I love you, will you give me another chance?"

Clara laughed at the absurdity. She raised an eyebrow and countered, "Evidence of love? Is love something you have to search frantically to find?"

"Give it up, Arthur. You will never change."

"And even if you did, I wouldn't have a single thought for you."

Having put it that way, even a fool would have understood her meaning.

Clara thought the matter was settled, but she hadn't expected Arthur to do something even more mind-boggling.