It wasn't that his character lacked raw courage, but rather that his subconscious automatically initiated a process of hesitation, meticulously evaluating the structural liabilities and material losses tied to the action.

And during that precise, micro-second of hesitation, Julian had bypassed his form without a solitary shred of thought, plunging directly into the roaring surf.

From that exact threshold forward, his position had already encountered a terminal defeat—a reality entirely beyond any common debate.

Chloe's movements froze slightly against the door barrier, a bitter laugh escaping her lips: "Select a date on the calendar; let us finalize the processing of the divorce certificate."

Click. The heavy barrier was softly pulled shut.

Following a series of systematic inquiries with the nursing staff, Chloe finally located the precise recovery room housing Julian.

She permitted a nurse to transport her form via a wheelchair, and the moment she pushed the door open to enter the space, she noted that the interior was occupied exclusively by Austin, who was watching over Julian's form.

Julian was lying completely motionless upon the mattress, his eyes softly closed, his long eyelashes casting a serene shadow over his cheeks; his posture reflected an individual locked in a deep, peaceful slumber.

Registering her entry into the space, Austin lifted his eyes, a soft smile gracing his features.

"Across all these seasons, my eyes have monitored this kid push his system to the absolute absolute limit without a solitary day of rest. I routinely initiated inquiries to demand why his person felt compelled to hunt material wealth with such savage intensity, and his response never varied: it was never about the accumulation of currency, but rather about transforming his existence into a formidable power capable of guaranteeing the safety of the specific asset he desired to protect. It has taken an immense journey to finally see his system engage in a few days of rest, yet the venue defaults to this hospital mattress."

Austin articulated the summary in a casual, conversational register, casually referencing the historical reality.

Chloe pushed the wheels of her chair forward, coming to a halt directly adjacent to the opposite perimeter of the bed. Gazing down at those pale, remarkably textured hands, the sheer volume of structural adversity his character had traversed across the years stood exposed to her understanding.

She gently clasped his fingers within her own, her skin finally registering the thin layer of calluses lining Julian's fingertips—the permanent signatures left behind by decades of grueling labor and the merciless passage of time.

Watching the interaction, Austin delivered an alternative summary in a somber tone: "In all likelihood, there are very few souls across this world who possess the clarity that beneath the superficial veneer of the refined, elite Mr. Vance, his hands harbor a severe, chronic injury from his youth; the moment the winter seasons arrive, his fingers radiate an agonizing, freezing pain."

A flash of profound surprise registered across Chloe's eyes, her gaze instantly rising to lock onto Austin's features.

Austin continued levelly: "It constitutes a structural pathology left behind during the hardships of his early years. His trajectory along this path has been entirely devoid of any effortless success, yet his lips consistently declared that as long as the strategy permitted his system to accelerate the timeline to officially wed his beloved girl, the sacrifice was entirely worth the price. He expended his absolute vitality to accelerate his strides forward, never calculating for the possibility that..."

Austin cast a brief glance toward her form, intentionally forcing the remaining syllables into absolute silence.

Yet, deep within her own heart, Chloe's consciousness fully decoded the unarticulated reality: he had never calculated for the possibility that by the time his existence achieved absolute triumph and returned to this city, the girl commanding his hidden devotion would have already been wed to an alternative man.

And her own cognitive definition regarding Julian's character had remained permanently anchored to the image of the youth from their early years; once upon a time, his presence had likewise constituted a magnificent beam of light slicing through the darkness of her existence.

It was merely that subsequent to Julian packaging his belongings to journey across the seas, her system had gradually buried the image of that fierce youth into the deepest parameters of her memory.

Yet on this day, as her consciousness resurrected the archives, the youth remained entirely identical to the youth of her past, and Julian remained the exact Julian he had always been.

Chapter 37: Not the Right Man

In truth, a hospital is generally a repulsive place, filled with illnesses, death, and tears.

Chloe suddenly recalled that four years ago, she was also in a hospital when she lost Zack in this exact manner.

Covered by a white sheet, once a person closes their eyes, they never wake up again.

Looking at Julian now, a sudden wave of tears welled up in her eyes.

"What happened to him? How could he be lying here like this?" Her voice could not help but choke up slightly.

Austin's expression showed no significant change as he stated levelly: "When we rushed to the seaside that day, Julian happened to see Lyndsey push you off. Without a single thought, he jumped down to save you."

Fortunately, the rising tide was not too deep yet that day, and fortunately, Julian pulled her out in time, so she was lucky enough to escape death.

However, the sea water was piercingly cold, and the waves crashed down one after another. Julian used his own body to shield and protect her the entire time, and ultimately had the rescue team pull her up first. In all likelihood, his body slammed against the hidden reefs in the sea while he was saving her.

The doctor said he has two broken ribs and suffered severe frostbite. Although he is no longer in mortal danger, he nearly lost a good half of his life.

After learning all of this, Chloe's heart felt incredibly heavy. All this time, she had overlooked Julian's hidden devotion and feelings for her.

And now, when forced to confront this affection, an unidentifiable sensation settled deep into her heart.

It was only after lying unconscious for another full day that Julian slowly opened his eyes. At that time, Chloe was leaning against his bedside, having drifted into an exhausted slumber for a short while.

Upon waking, she felt a pair of large, warm hands gently stroking her hair, the movements tender, restrained, and meticulously careful.

Chloe opened her eyes and looked directly into Julian's eyes, which were as clear and shallow as a galaxy, filled to the brim with infinite smiles and tenderness.

Before she could speak, Julian asked her in a slightly raspy voice: "Are you tired? You ought to return to your own hospital bed to sleep."

Delighted, Chloe straightened her back: "I'm not tired. Let me pour a cup of water for you."

But before her hand could move, she couldn't help but gasp from a sudden numbness.

"What's wrong?" Julian's gaze turned anxious, his brows knitting together.

She shook her head: "My hand went completely numb from sleeping on it."

Hearing this, Julian broke into a gentle smile, reaching out his hand to hold hers and lightly massaging it.

His actions were exceptionally gentle, and Chloe couldn't help but feel her face grow somewhat hot.

Realizing the sudden shift in her own emotions, she hastily suppressed her thoughts and shifted the topic: "I heard Lyndsey has already been taken into custody. The evidence chain is absolute, and she is just waiting for the court trial. With two human lives on her hands, it seems she won't have a single chance to salvage herself."

Suddenly, a tender sensation brushed against the crown of her head. Chloe stared blankly as Julian reached out to pat her head, his eyes dripping with pure tenderness.

He offered a soft smile as he spoke: "Chloe, do not harbor hatred. You belong in the sunlight; you ought to live a warm, brilliant, and fulfilling life."

Do not harbor hatred was the solitary piece of advice Julian had consistently delivered to her.

An unprecedented warmth flooded Chloe's heart. She permitted him to hold her hand, yet deep within her chest, her heart secretly began to throb with violent intensity.

The day before Lyndsey's case officially went to trial, Chloe was discharged from the hospital and accompanied Eric to the civil affairs bureau.

When they stepped out of the civil affairs bureau, the daylight was bright and beautiful, the faint sunshine cascading over the pristine white snow, reflecting a brilliant, dazzling radiance.

Chloe experienced a profound sense of absolute relief. In a flash, she could no longer even recall how she and Eric had managed to reach this terminal threshold.

If asked what she felt toward Eric at this current juncture, in absolute reality, the intense hatred she initially harbored had already evaporated. Perhaps just as the world says, once love is completely hollowed out, hatred naturally fades into obscurity.