He came every day, waited every day, watching her occasionally appear in the garden or get into a car to leave.

He didn't dare get close, didn't dare disturb her; he just watched. Today, he wanted to try.

At 3:00 PM, the Lu family gate opened.

A black car drove out.

Julian immediately stood up and rushed out of the coffee shop.

The car was waiting for a red light at the intersection. He ran over, stood outside the window, and tapped gently on the glass.

The window rolled down slowly, and Nina’s face appeared in the opening.

She glanced at him once. Julian’s heart was pounding. "Nina," his voice trembled, "I—I brought you something."

He pulled a bag from behind him and held it out.

Inside were the pan-fried dumplings from that shop she used to love. He had woken up at 5:00 AM and waited in line for an hour and a half; they were still warm.

Nina glanced down at the bag, then lifted her eyes to look at him.

"No need," she said.

Then she pressed a button, and the window rolled back up.

The next day, he went to a different shop—the old-fashioned bakery she had once said she liked.

He waited in line for three hours, but she didn't take them.

The fifth day, the sixth day, the seventh day.

He changed the gift every day, appeared before her every day, and was rejected every day.

The items were thrown away, returned, ignored—he didn't care.

He just wanted her to see him, to give him a chance to say a single word.

On the eighth day, Julian appeared at the Lu gate again.

This time he brought nothing. He just stood there, waiting.

When the car drove out, he walked over and stood by the window.

After a while, the window rolled down just a crack.

Nina’s voice came from inside: "What exactly do you want?"

Julian’s heart skipped a beat. "Nina," he said, "tell me, what do I have to do for you to forgive me?"

"Julian," she said, "what I want, you cannot afford."

Julian was stunned. "Tell me," he said, "I'll give you anything you want."

Nina looked at him, lifted her hand, and pointed across the street.

There was a wedding dress shop. A wedding gown hung in the display window—very beautiful, layers upon layers of white tulle, inlaid with tiny, shimmering diamonds.

"That wedding dress," she said, "is very beautiful."

Julian looked in the direction she pointed.

"Ten million," Nina said. "I want it now. Can you afford it?"

Julian was stunned. He opened his mouth, his face slowly flushing red.

Nina withdrew her gaze. "Drive," she told the driver.

The window went up, and the black car drove away.

Julian stood in place, watching the car go further and further away.

His face was flushed red; she was right, he couldn't afford it.

One month later.

Julian lay in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages from head to toe.

After that day, he went crazy, taking on every commercial performance he could find. Small theaters, giant shopping malls, corporate annual meetings, even weddings. If it paid, he took it.

He performed by day, by night, and on weekends. He slept three or four hours a day, sometimes not at all.

He knew he was looking for death.

But he couldn't stop.

He had to earn that ten million.

He had to let her see that he could afford it.

Then, he collapsed.

The stage lights were too blinding. Everything went black before his eyes, and he fell from the stage. Three broken ribs, a fractured left arm, a concussion.

Reporters smelled blood and swarmed the hospital.

The ward door was closed; they couldn't get in. But they found the attending physician, the nurses, and the patient in the next bed.

The interview video spread across the internet in no time.

"Julian, Renowned Magician, Works Day and Night to Make Money, Collapses on Stage"

"Exclusive Interview: Why is He Pushing Himself So Hard?"

In the footage, Julian lay in the hospital bed, his face still bruised, his left arm in a cast. He faced the camera, his eyes slightly red but very bright.

The reporter asked him: "Why push yourself so hard? Is there a special reason?"

Julian looked into the lens and was silent for a few seconds.

Then he said: "Because I want to give her the things she wants."

The reporter was stunned. "Her?"

Julian nodded.

"She likes a wedding dress," he said. "Ten million. I have to earn that ten million to buy it for her."

The video went viral online.

In the living room of the Lu family estate, the TV was on.

Nina sat on the sofa, watching the screen.

Julian’s face was on the screen, his eyes red, his voice a bit raspy, but he looked very serious when he said those words.

Lucas sat beside her, also watching the TV. After a while, he turned to look at Nina.

Nina picked up the remote and turned off the TV. The screen went black.

Nina stood up and walked to the window, looking at the garden outside.

The sun was bright, and the roses were in perfect bloom.

Lucas walked over and stood beside her.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

Nina didn't answer. After a long time, she shook her head gently. "Nothing."

Chapter 18

Julian lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling.

The thirteenth day.

He had been hospitalized for thirteen days. Three broken ribs, a fractured left arm, a concussion. The doctor said he needed to stay for another half a month. He didn't listen; he wanted to leave, but he couldn't even get out of bed.

The ward was very quiet.

There were footsteps in the corridor, the sound of nurses pushing carts, the sound of people talking elsewhere. Only his ward was as quiet as if it were empty.

No one came to see him.

Clara was in the detention center, waiting for her trial.

Those so-called "friends," knowing he had an accident, had sent a few messages saying "take good care of yourself," and then that was the end of it.

The theater owner had come once, sat for ten minutes, said a few polite words, and left.

And then no one ever came again.

Every day, he borrowed the nurse's phone to call Nina.

The first time, it went through, but no one answered.

The second time, it went through, rang five times, and was hung up.

The fourth, fifth, sixth times...

Every single time, it was hung up.

The nurse’s look at him shifted from sympathy to confusion, then from confusion to helplessness. Later on, she didn't really want to lend it to him, but seeing the state he was in, she lent it anyway.

"Mr. Julian," she said, "if she doesn't want to answer, calling her more won't change anything."

Julian didn't speak, just nodded.

At noon that day, sunshine poured in through the window and fell on the foot of the bed. Julian stared at that patch of sunshine for a long time, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

He fell asleep.

In his dream, he was standing on a stage, the spotlight beaming down from above. The audience was packed, but he couldn't see their faces—he only saw one person sitting in the front row: Nina.

She wore that white dress, her hair loose, looking up at him with bright, shining eyes.

He snapped his fingers, and snow began to fall over the stage. She reached out her hand, caught a snowflake, and smiled.

He hadn't seen that smile in such a long time.

Later, they were backstage. She ran over, linked her arm through his, and said, "You were so cool just now." He looked down at her; her face was flushed, and a flake of unmelted snow still clung to her eyelashes.

Later, they were at home. She sat on the sofa, unwrapping the gift he had given her—that music box.

When she opened the lid, the two little figures spun; he was performing magic, and she was laughing beside him. She watched for a long time, then looked up at him and said, "I love it so much."

That smile was so beautiful.

He looked at her, thinking in his heart: She is so beautiful, so wealthy, so capable—how could she ever fall for me?

I’m just a trickster.

She pursued him, a pursuit so loud it became a scandal. He avoided her, avoided her for three months. Later, he agreed, but a voice kept whispering in his heart: She’s just on a whim; once the novelty wears off, she won't want you anymore. He wasn't good enough for her; he knew that all too well.

So, he had to find faults.

She invited him to the company annual meeting, and he said, "Your people look at me like I’m a monkey." She invited him to a party with friends, and he said, "The cars your friends drive cost more than I'll earn in a lifetime." She wanted to take a photo to post on social media, he pulled his hand away and said, "Stop. You’re a high-society heiress married to a street magician—it’s embarrassing."