The subway in Jincheng was crowded. Elena was pushed along by the crowd, but she felt more at ease than sitting in the passenger seat of Arthur’s car.

At least here, no one looked at her with that complex, scrutinizing gaze.

The Gu Group’s building was in the center of Jincheng, eighty-eight stories tall—the entire building was Gu family property.

She arrived at exactly 8:59 AM.

The receptionist looked at her, stunned for a second, then smiled and pointed to the elevator: "Miss Elena, the Marketing Department is on the 42nd floor. Mr. Gu ordered that you can go straight up."

Mr. Gu ordered.

These words felt like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing half of the courage Elena had just gathered.

She didn't want others to think she had gotten the job through connections, but clearly, Arthur had already paved the way for her.

The Marketing Manager, Mr. Zhao, was in his forties and wore gold-rimmed glasses. His gaze held obvious appraisal as he looked at her.

He flipped through Elena’s resume, his brow furrowing: "Elena, twenty-four, rehabilitation at a sanitarium in Switzerland?"

Manager Zhao looked up at her. "You don't have a university degree?"

"I completed an adult education course in Switzerland and have a GED certificate."

Elena handed over the materials she had prepared. "Additionally, I worked as an assistant at the sanitarium for two years, where I handled administration and data analysis."

Manager Zhao gave a non-committal "Hmm" and pointed to a workstation in the corner: "Go sit there for now. Zhou will show you the ropes. The company is currently negotiating a partnership with the Hengtai Group. Help with organizing the data."

"Okay."

Zhou was a girl in her early twenties with a soft voice. As she was showing Elena how to use the system, she lowered her voice and asked: "Sister Elena, what is your relationship with Mr. Gu?"

"He is my uncle," Elena said calmly.

"Oh—" Zhou drew out the tone, her eyes flickering. "Then why don't you have the surname Gu?"

"My parents passed away, and I was adopted by the Gu family."

Elena kept it brief, not wanting to talk about it anymore.

But she knew this information would spread throughout the department soon enough.

As she expected, when she went to the breakroom for water at noon, Elena heard whispers.

"Is that her? The one Mr. Gu raised for over a decade?"

"I heard she was an idiot before and went to Switzerland to get cured."

"She’s not an idiot; she was mentally impaired. Now that she's better, she gets a direct drop into our department as soon as she’s back, even though she’s never been to college."

"Keep it down, she’s a little princess, don't want to get reported."

Elena tightened her grip on her water cup, her nails digging into her palm.

In Switzerland, her doctor had taught her how to handle situations like this—

"Miss Elena, when others are biased against you, don't rush to defend yourself. Let your ability do the talking."

She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The breakroom went silent instantly. The three colleagues wore varied expressions; one of them forced a smile: "Elena, we were just—"

"I heard it all," Elena said calmly as she poured a glass of water and turned to face them.

"Arthur and I are uncle and niece. If you have any questions, you can ask me directly instead of gossiping behind my back."

With that, she took her cup and walked out.

Her hands were shaking.

Not because she felt wronged, but because she realized she still cared—

She cared that others made her relationship with Arthur sound so dirty and shameful.

Chapter 15

When it was time to get off work, Elena deliberately left through the side door to avoid the front entrance where Arthur might be waiting.

But as soon as she stepped out, she saw a black SUV parked by the roadside.

The window rolled down—it wasn't Arthur, but his assistant.

"Miss Elena, Mr. Gu asked me to take you home."

"No need, I’ll take the subway."

"Mr. Gu said that if you don't get in the car, he will come himself."

Elena gritted her teeth, pulled open the door, and climbed in.

Inside the car sat an insulated bag containing a packed dinner.

Sweet and sour pork ribs, stir-fried shrimp, steamed egg custard.

It was exactly the same as the meal he had made for her four years ago.

"Mr. Gu said that since you’re living alone, you definitely wouldn't be eating properly."

The assistant glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

She stared at the food, her nose suddenly feeling sore.

Arthur, can you please not be so good to me?

Don't you know that the more you do this, the harder it is for me to let go?

Back home, Elena heated the food and sat alone at the small dining table, eating bite by bite.

The sweet and sour ribs were very sweet—so sweet they tasted bitter.

Halfway through the meal, her phone vibrated.

Arthur: [Is the food to your liking?]

She hesitated, then replied with one word: [Yes.]

He sent another: [I’ll pick you up from work myself tomorrow.]

Elena was about to refuse, but the second message arrived immediately: [Don't refuse me, Elena. I just want to see you every day.]

She stared at the text, her finger resting on the screen.

I just want to see you every day.

What does this mean? Concern from an uncle for his niece? Or... from a man to a woman?

Elena didn't dare to think any further.

In the end, she didn't reply.

But that night, she had a dream.

In the dream, she was twelve years old, just arrived at the Gu household, knowing nothing and only able to cry.

Arthur crouched down, wiped away her tears, and whispered in a voice so light: "Elena, don't cry. From now on, this is your home."

When she woke up, her pillow was wet.

During her first week at the company, Elena lived as if she were in a war zone.

She took on half of the tasks Manager Zhao had assigned to Zhou.

All the menial work that others didn't want to do—organizing contracts, checking data, making calls to clients—she scrambled to do it all.

It wasn't to show off; she really wanted to prove that she wasn't there just to waste time.

On Wednesday afternoon, the department received a temporary, urgent task.

Hengtai Group needed a market research report by Wednesday evening. Manager Zhao was running around in a panic because the colleague responsible for the project had taken sick leave.

"I’ll try," Elena said, standing up.

Everyone looked at her with different expressions.

Some were disdainful; some were skeptical.

Manager Zhao frowned: "You’ve only been here three days. Can you handle it?"

"Give me four hours. If I can't do it well, you can find someone else."

Manager Zhao hesitated, then threw the documents to her: "Fine, give it to me before 4:30."

For those four hours, Elena worked as if she were wound up like a spring.

In Switzerland, she had learned rapid data analysis.

Elena pulled up Hengtai’s annual reports for the last three years, industry trends, and competitor data, created visualized charts, and attached a short strategic proposal.

At 4:30, she submitted the report to Manager Zhao’s desk.

He opened the first page and paused. Then he read it page by page, his expression shifting from skepticism to surprise. Finally, he closed the report and glanced at Elena: "You’ve never worked in this line of business before?"

"No, but I learn fast."

He was silent for a moment, then gave a hum: "Alright. I’ll submit the report. Go back to work."

As Elena turned away, she heard him say to the manager next to him: "This Elena, she’s got a sharp brain."

Walking out of the office, she couldn't help but smile.

It wasn't a smile of pride, but a smile of relief.

When she got off work, Elena stepped out of the elevator and saw Arthur standing in the lobby at a glance.

He was wearing a dark blue suit and holding a bouquet of white bellflowers, standing straight as a sculpture.

Chapter 16

The young women at the front desk were peeking and whispering.

Elena walked over and lowered her voice: "Uncle, what are you doing?"

"Picking you up after work." He handed the flowers over as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Your first day of work officially. It’s worth celebrating."

"I don't need—"

"Elena." He interrupted, his tone brooks no refusal. "Take them."

People were coming and going in the lobby; Elena didn't want to create a scene, so she took the flowers.

The fragrance of the white bellflowers was faint—the familiar scent from her memories.

Once in the car, she placed the flowers in the back seat, trying her best not to look at them.