"Did you have fun at ballet today, Miss?" Tomy Xu asked with a warm smile, glancing at the young girl through the rearview mirror.
The girl was seven years old, still dressed in her pink ballet costume, her hair neatly tied up in a bun.
"Yes, Uncle. I passed the audition for next month's opera house performance!" she replied excitedly, despite the clear fatigue from her daily routine.
Laura had ballet practice three times a week, and homeschooling six days a week since she was old enough for early education.
"Wow! That's amazing. Your parents must be very proud when they hear about it," Tomy Xu responded with genuine enthusiasm, boosting the little girl's confidence from the front seat.
"Really? I have to tell them as soon as we get home!"
"Of course. It's a great achievement—beating out others for such a big opportunity."
Everything seemed fine—just a pleasant exchange between the master's daughter and the family's trusted chauffeur.
Laura was always kind to the house staff. She was the kind of child everyone missed whenever she was away from home. Constantly showered with attention and praise, she had gathered an abundance of affection as the youngest member of the Zhang family.
On the way back to the Zhang manor, Laura grew increasingly impatient—bubbling with excitement to share her little victory. Her sparkling eyes kept drifting toward the window, scanning the nighttime scenery.
"Do you think I can be a ballerina when I grow up, Uncle?"
"Of course, Miss. You're talented and passionate—everyone will be cheering for your success."
"I see..." Laura beamed, swinging her slim little legs beneath her seat.
Everything was fine—until Tomy Xu's expression suddenly changed. His demeanor shifted after answering a phone call, and Laura blinked in confusion.
"Uncle, what's wrong?"
Tomy didn't answer at first. He looked increasingly tense, pressing down on the accelerator while scanning the surroundings, checking the side mirrors frequently—as if they were being followed or targeted.
"Miss, please fasten your seatbelt."
"Okay, but—"
"We need to go. Now." His voice was tight with frustration. Laura could sense something was wrong, though she didn't understand what.
Tomy cleared his throat and quickly pulled a pistol from the dashboard, tucking it into his waistband.
"Uncle, what is that?" Laura asked, fully focused on his every movement, gripping her seatbelt tightly as the car sped up. "I'm scared..."
"Damn it... That bastard really went through with it."
Tomy put his cap back on, completely ignoring Laura's frightened voice, as if he were driving alone. He even cursed in front of the little girl.
"Uncle?"
"Miss." He checked the mirror again. Several identical black vehicles had appeared behind them—they had been found. "No matter what happens, stay with me."
"What do you mean? Aren't we going home?"
The tension inside the car grew suffocating. Tomy gripped the steering wheel tighter. A man devoted to God, he began praying silently, knowing that he carried a precious little girl in the passenger seat.
"Uncle Xu... I'm scared..."
"Miss—"
CRASH!!!
It happened so fast, there was no time to avoid it. A black jeep slammed into their car head-on, dragging it a distance before finally stopping at a roadside barrier.
"Son of a—"
Tomy was still conscious enough to curse, though smoke rose from the crumpled hood. He was bleeding and injured at several points, pain wracking his body, but he forced himself to stay alert.
"Miss... Miss Laura!" He turned to check the passenger seat. Laura was in bad shape, crying from the pain and covered in blood—but miraculously still conscious.
Tomy flung the door open and immediately fired shots toward the jeep that had hit them. Other sedans in pursuit scattered to avoid his gunfire.
He scooped Laura into his arms and bolted into the dark, cold forest nearby—running as fast as he could to save the only surviving child of Margareth Li and Ronan Zhang.
Later, Chelsea would learn that the call which had shaken Tomy Xu so deeply that night was her father's final command. Ronan Zhang had ordered Tomy to get Chelsea as far away as possible. That night was the last time Chelsea ever saw her parents—before they were declared dead in a massive fire that burned the Zhang manor to the ground.
"Have you called Doctor Ye?"
"Yes, Sir. He's on his way."
The servants were clearly rattled by Jonas' rising frustration that night. His wife was burning up with fever—crying and moaning in her sleep. When Jonas finally managed to wake her, her tears only intensified until she collapsed in his arms.
Whatever was happening to her was unusual—and troublesome. But if Jonas ignored it, Jeremy Li's threat still loomed over him. Everyone had taken Chelsea's side, pressuring Jonas to act like a responsible, perfect husband.
He frowned at the appearance of Daniel Jiang, who was escorting Doctor Ye into the villa.
Jonas made no effort to hide his irritation—clearly annoyed by this unnecessary addition trying to appear relevant.
"The maid will show you to my wife," Jonas said curtly to Doctor Ye, remaining at the main entrance even after the maid walked away with the family doctor.
Jonas maintained a conservative stance before Daniel Jiang, emphasizing his disapproval of his wife's personal driver being there.
"What happened to—"
"Sorry, Uncle Jiang," Jonas interrupted bluntly. "You should return to the pavilion. I can take care of my wife. Wasn't your job simply to escort Doctor Ye here?"
Daniel Jiang kept his composure, managing a polite smile despite sensing the rejection.
"Ah, forgive my intrusion, Sir. I was just worried about Madam Chelsea's condition. She seemed fine earlier."
"I won't repeat myself. Go back to the pavilion. Your job is to drive her wherever she wants to go—nothing more."
Jonas turned and walked away without waiting to see if Daniel would leave or linger. But as a servant, Daniel had no choice but to obey. He stepped away from the villa, though concern still clouded his face.
"She was fine before. What could've made her this sick?"
Daniel held himself back—he knew that pushing further would only draw suspicion. Jonas might start getting the wrong idea about a driver and his employer, which was too absurd to even entertain.
Back at the pavilion, he gazed up at the second-floor balcony of Chelsea's bedroom. For a moment, he considered informing his adoptive parents back in the Netherlands.
No matter what happened, Chelsea remained within his monitoring radius—she had been 'too fragile' from the start. Her trauma had never fully disappeared.
The painful remnants of her childhood merely hid beneath the surface—waiting to be triggered by new memories.
"Did I make another mistake?"
Daniel clicked his tongue. He mentally ticked off the recent events—the ballet performance at the opera house, the visit to her parents' grave. These moments seemed closely tied to Chelsea's past and could easily trigger her condition again, making him feel like the antagonist in her already unstable life.
After all, this was China—the setting of it all. They could all be reunited here, even though the old Zhang manor had long since been destroyed. If Chelsea ever stood there again, everything would likely come rushing back to her.
It was as if everything her adoptive parents had done for her in the Netherlands had been in vain—unable to suppress the trauma that had shackled her from the start, leaving invisible red marks around her ankles.
"What symptoms did you feel before this started?" Doctor Ye Lan stood beside the bed. It was her second time meeting Jonas Li's wife, though Chelsea probably didn't remember.
"I had a nightmare... and I felt overwhelmed with anxiety." Her voice was barely a whisper. She had woken up only fifteen minutes before Doctor Ye arrived.
"Did something happen recently? You might be experiencing acute stress. Physical symptoms like fever and body aches can often be linked to strong emotional pressure. I'd like to run some tests to make sure there's no other cause."
"That's not necessary," Chelsea cut in immediately, drawing a concerned frown from Jonas, who was still standing by the doorway, silently observing.
Doctor Ye gave a soft, measured smile. "May I ask why, Miss Chelsea? If I can pinpoint the exact symptoms and causes, I could prescribe something more effective."
"It's nothing." Her usual confidence faltered momentarily—after all, Doctor Ye had no idea about her mental health struggles. "You're right, Doctor. I've been under a lot of pressure lately. But I don't need further tests. Can we just leave it at that?"
The woman with glasses and a stethoscope draped around her neck cleared her throat and turned toward Jonas, a trace of dissatisfaction in her expression. But he remained cold and silent, eyes fixed on his wife, brow still furrowed.
Jonas Li had his own thoughts.
"Very well, Miss Chelsea," Doctor Ye relented. "Take complete bed rest for the next few days. Get enough sleep, manage your stress, and try to maintain a healthy routine. If the symptoms persist or worsen, don't hesitate to call me or go to the hospital. I'll leave a prescription for you."
"Thank you, Doctor."
After completing the emergency visit, Doctor Ye took her leave. Jonas walked her out to the courtyard, glancing briefly toward the pavilion—his muscles relaxing slightly upon seeing Daniel Jiang had respected his wishes.
***