After they enthusiastically accepted her decision, she replied to Arthur’s assistant: [I agree to go.]

After sending the message, Elena wrapped herself tightly in her quilt, shutting out all sound.

In the silence, a clear and burning thought sprouted in her heart.

Eight-year-old Elena had made Arthur the center of her entire world, always chasing after his shadow.

But the twenty-four-year-old Elena wanted to walk away.

To walk away into a vast, open world where Arthur no longer existed.

Chapter 7

It was soon the night before Arthur’s wedding. According to custom, Cassie had returned to her own home.

Elena finally felt she could step out of her room to get some fresh air.

She stood dazed, looking at the unfamiliar decor.

It wasn't until she heard the sound of the digital lock at the entrance that she snapped out of her trance.

Arthur was being propped up by Julian; he was reeking of alcohol and clearly dead drunk.

Seeing the man she hadn't seen for days, she suddenly felt at a loss.

Julian explained to her, "Some friends insisted on a bachelor party. Your uncle drank too much. Give me a hand, will you?"

Arthur suddenly lifted his head, his hazy gaze locking onto her.

Then he said, "Julian, couldn't you have called the servants? Did you have to tire her out?"

Julian laughed in disbelief: "Fine! Elena, go call someone."

Elena responded blankly and called the live-in maid over, watching as they helped Arthur to his room.

Julian came back down quickly and pointed upstairs: "Elena, your uncle is calling for you."

The words left her spinning. By the time she processed them, she was already standing at the door of Arthur’s bedroom.

Arthur was leaning against the headboard, moonlight slanting in from the floor-to-ceiling window, illuminating half of his face.

Elena couldn't help but ask, "You look so tired. Is it because of the wedding preparations?"

Hearing her voice, Arthur lifted his eyelids, his voice slurred with intoxication: "What time is your flight tomorrow?"

She lowered her eyes: "Ten o'clock."

Arthur frowned: "So early? Don't you want to watch Cassie and me get married? I'll have him change the booking now."

Elena mustered the courage to interrupt him: "I just wanted to see what you looked like in your groom's attire."

Arthur fell silent. Elena thought he probably didn't want to see her, so she prepared to return to her room.

But just as she turned away, she heard Arthur’s voice: "Elena, Switzerland is cold. Wear more layers."

"Although you’ll be back in just a month, if you aren't happy, you can send me a message."

"If you run out of money, ask me for it. If you’re in danger, go to the police immediately. If..."

Arthur must have been truly drunk, as he began to nag her just like he did before every business trip.

But Elena knew that when she left this time, there would be no return date.

She fought back her tears hard and said softly: "I know, Uncle."

Then, without waiting for Arthur to say anything more, she returned to her room.

The next morning, when Elena came downstairs, she saw Arthur and Julian sitting at the dining table having breakfast.

He was already dressed in his groom's suit. The small red flower pinned to his chest pierced Elena’s eyes.

Julian saw her and smiled: "Elena, you're off to Switzerland today, aren't you?"

"Your uncle has been so worried about you. Last night, while he was drinking, he kept muttering about how you’ve never traveled far away before and what you’d do if something happened..."

Arthur looked up: "Julian, why do you talk so much?"

As he spoke, he looked at Elena, his voice calm: "Come eat. I’ll drive you to the airport later."

She nodded: "Okay."

At eight o'clock sharp, Arthur took Elena out the door and drove toward the airport.

The road was silent, neither of them having anything to say.

Until they reached the final red light, Arthur suddenly spoke: "That sanitarium has a beautiful environment."

Elena responded: "Mm."

He said: "The director is an old acquaintance of my university mentor. They will take good care of you."

She replied: "Mm."

Arthur suddenly grew restless, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel.

"Elena, are you angry with me?"

Elena shook her head: "No. I was just thinking about what I’ll do once I get to Switzerland."

Another long silence followed. Arthur reached out and rubbed her hair firmly.

"Don’t be afraid. I’ll come pick you up myself in a month."

Feeling the warmth of his palm, Elena suddenly wanted to cry.

Arthur, it’s not a month. It’s three years, maybe longer.

When you see me again, perhaps I won't be this eight-year-old child spinning in your orbit anymore.

Elena turned her head away, and his hand fell.

Arthur blinked in surprise.

She looked ahead: "Uncle, the light is green. Let’s go."

Check-in, baggage drop, security clearance.

Arthur processed them silently, as if completing a ritual.

Just as he was about to drop Elena off at the boarding gate, his phone rang.

He glanced at it and answered. The festive, joyous voice from the other end of the line drifted into Elena’s ears.

"Arthur, the guys are all ready! Hurry back, we’re off to pick up the bride!"

Arthur gave a low acknowledgement and hung up.

Before he could speak, Elena snatched the suitcase handle from his hand.

"Uncle, you can leave me here. I know the boarding gate is just ahead."

Arthur looked down at her, and after a long time, he said very softly:

"Alright. Safe travels. Send me a message when you arrive."

She nodded vigorously: "Okay."

Arthur left.

Watching his retreating figure, Elena suddenly called out: "Uncle!"

He turned his head abruptly, only to see Elena flashing a huge smile at him.

"Happy wedding!"

At that moment, sunlight spilled onto the ground.

Elena couldn't see the expression on Arthur’s face as he stood against the light.

She simply dragged her suitcase, her back straight, and walked decisively into the boarding gate.

Chapter 8

As the plane rose above the clouds, Elena sat by the window, tears sliding silently into her collar.

Three years.

By the time she returned, Arthur would probably have children with Cassie.

Connecting to the in-flight Wi-Fi, she was inexplicably drawn to open the forum post where Arthur had previously said he would give up on her.

As soon as she clicked in, the page refreshed.

Elena saw that the original poster had updated a reply two minutes ago—[I will not give up on her.]

The comment section exploded instantly.

[Didn't you say you wanted to send her away? Why aren't you giving up anymore?]

[OP, don't tell me you actually love that girl?]

[If it’s love, what was all that exhaustion and complaining about earlier? Scumbag!]

She stared at the words "I will not give up on her," her heartbeat suddenly quickening.

What did Arthur mean by this? Wasn't he going to marry Cassie? Wasn't he going to send her away?

Before she could make sense of it, a message from the Swiss sanitarium popped up.

[Miss Elena, we have confirmed the three-year isolation therapy agreement you signed. We will have dedicated staff meet you at the airport after your flight lands.]

Elena stared at this message, the pain in her heart calming down bit by bit, then she replied:

[Okay, thank you.]

At the same time, a thousand miles away in Jincheng, the wedding motorcade was majestically driving through the entrance of Cassie’s residential complex.

Arthur sat in the backseat of the lead car, the groom's red flower pinned to his chest, staring expressionlessly out the window.

"Arthur, why don't you look happy at all?"

His friend in the passenger seat turned back to tease him: "You're about to pick up your bride. Smile."

Arthur ignored him.

His mind was filled entirely with the image of Elena at the airport—smiling at him after saying "Happy wedding," then dragging her suitcase, back straight, walking into the boarding gate without a single glance back.

That smile looked as if she had exhausted all her strength.

He loosened his tie in frustration. His phone buzzed. He looked down—it was a message from his assistant, containing only one sentence.

[Mr. Arthur, it’s not good. I just discovered that the course Miss Elena signed up for isn't one month, but three years of isolation therapy, with all visits and communication strictly prohibited!]

Arthur sat bolt upright, his pupils contracting sharply.

"Turn around."

His voice was as cold as ice.

"What?"

"I said turn around! Go to the airport!"

The driver was terrified, but at this moment, the motorcade had already arrived downstairs at Cassie’s building.

Firecrackers began to crackle and pop, and a large crowd surged forward to knock on the car windows.

"The groom is here! Come on down and pick up the bride!"

Arthur gripped his phone until his knuckles turned white.

He took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and got out.