“Clara, drop the phone for a sec. Someone from your family’s finally here to pick you up!” Mrs. Brown’s voice was full of excitement as she called out to the girl inside the house, who was bent over her phone.

Clara raised an eyebrow, got up with her phone still in hand.

The numbers were flying across the black screen—it was clearly not a game.

She glanced out the window. A sleek luxury car had pulled up to the edge of the rice field outside, instantly drawing in a curious crowd from the village.

Just a standard Porsche Cayenne.

She looked away, lazily strolled a few steps into the living room, then flopped down on the ratty couch like she hadn't a care in the world. One leg casually crossed over the other, eyes glued back to her phone. She didn’t spare a single glance at the two men in suits sitting across from her.

Their faces stiffened. Whatever surprise they’d felt seeing her pretty face, instantly turned to contempt.

A shabby rural shack that looked one strong wind away from collapsing, a beat-up sofa with a hole in it, and a girl with zero manners who looked like she never heard of rules. Just being here made them physically uncomfortable.

Still, remembering their mission today, one of them exhaled sharply and said, “Miss Wright, you’ll be entering your senior year soon. Madam thought—”

“Wrong,” Clara interrupted flatly.

She didn’t even lift her head, just let those almond-shaped eyes glint with mild amusement.

“Pardon?” the two men blinked in surprise.

“She’s the older one. Clara is the true firstborn of the Wright family!” Mrs. Brown cut in, her tone sharp with anger.

She’d raised Clara herself and knew all too well how unfair the Wrights had been. Just because Clara was born a few hours earlier and supposedly "ruined" the perfect birth date, they treated her like she was nothing. All their attention went to Lydia, acting like she was some kind of miracle child.

But in every way—brains, beauty—Clara outshone her.

The butler frowned, clearly uninterested in arguing. He said impatiently, “Doesn’t matter. We’re here to take you back. Better teachers in Jin City, nicer houses—all of it beats this dump a hundred times over. I’ve said what I came to say, so pack it up.”

The assistant tugged at his collar, feeling hot and uncomfortable.

Which was weird, because it was mid-winter, and rural towns were usually colder than the city. There was no heater in sight, but the room felt oddly warm—warm enough to ditch the down jackets.

Clara was still on her phone. After a beat, her pale fingers tapped the screen quickly and precisely.

A sharp incline of numbers froze at the top before plummeting straight down like a freefall.

The butler’s face turned darker watching her ignore them completely.

She didn’t seem to care. Once she was done, Clara tossed the phone back onto the torn sofa and leaned back, half lying down with a look that screamed ‘I’m bored already.’

“Done preaching?”

“…”

The assistant straightened up. The butler clenched his fists.

There was no expression on Clara’s face, but for some reason, both men felt a chill. Like she’d already seen through the real reason they’d come.

“Right, well, see yourselves out.”

Those four ice-cold words hit the room like a slap. Clara was officially done with them.

Mrs. Brown got anxious seeing Clara so unmoved. She rushed over, grabbed her hand gently and whispered, “Clara, do you remember what we talked about the other day?”Mrs. Brown had always hoped Clara Wright would go back to the Wright family. Her health was getting worse, and she constantly worried she wouldn’t be around much longer. At least if Clara returned to her family, she'd have a home—it wouldn’t feel so lonely.

Catching sight of Mrs. Brown’s worried eyes, Clara pushed her lips together slightly. The usual calm in her pretty face gave way to a soft, reluctant tenderness.

She’d been reborn in this body for over a year now, and honestly, she was feeling pretty good about being able to walk around on her own again. If Mrs. Brown hadn’t kept nagging about going home, she wouldn’t have cared less about that so-called "Wright house."

Without showing much, she gently felt Mrs. Brown’s pulse. Yeah, going to Jincheng would make some things a lot easier to get done anyway.

"Hold up," the butler said, seeing Clara stand up, guessing she had finally been talked into it. He looked pleased for about half a second—until he noticed Mrs. Brown getting ready to go with her. His face immediately dropped. "You're seriously bringing her along?"

Clara came to a stop at that mocking tone.

She leaned lazily against the wall, hands stuffed in her pockets, shooting a teasing smile. "Wow, doesn’t seem like you're in a rush anymore. Should we just go tomorrow then?"

The butler’s eye twitched, and he quickly forced a smile back on. "You must be joking, Miss Clara. Of course, the sooner we leave, the better. Madam's really looking forward to seeing you."

Clara gave him a chilly look and didn’t even bother replying. She turned to help Mrs. Brown pack up.

Truth be told, there wasn't much to take—just an old laptop and a beat-up phone.

Right before walking out of her room, she tapped a few spots on the wall.

Five minutes later, the butler saw Clara and Mrs. Brown, bundled up in padded coats, carrying worn fabric bags, standing at the door.

The assistant visibly shivered. The warm, cozy feeling the house had just moments before had vanished into thin air. With his jacket off, he felt like all the warmth had been sucked out of him.

Meanwhile, the butler walked ahead, quietly sneering to himself.

From the look of it, that old country lady might as well be Clara’s birth mother—all rough and plain like her.

No wonder Madam left Clara out here. Only a girl raised by someone like that would cling to a nanny like she was family.

Yeah... that’s probably all she could see in life.

Mrs. Brown stood nervously next to Clara, who looked half-asleep.

She’d started listening to Clara more and more after that serious illness Clara had last year. Still, she clutched at her faded clothes now, mumbling, “Clara, you think they’re in such a hurry to take you back for... for something shady?”

Mrs. Brown wasn’t one to overthink stuff. At first, she’d just assumed the family had grown a conscience and remembered they had another daughter. That made her happy enough. But after overhearing that conversation earlier, she started getting anxious.

Clara caught a glance at the butler and assistant sneakily watching them and smirked, her voice light but cold. “Relax. We’re blood, after all. They wouldn’t actually hurt their own daughter, would they?”

The butler’s palms started sweating. His smile froze as he scrambled into the front seat and buckled up a little too fast.

Heh. As if! They totally would.

Back at the Wrights’ house, the tension in the air finally lifted once they got the butler’s call confirming Clara had been picked up.

Lydia Wright glanced at the clock, worry clouding her eyes. Gripping her skirt tightly, she said, voice trembling, “Mom, maybe I should go instead. Even if she’s coming, there’s not enough time. And she’s been struggling out in the countryside for years... now that she’s finally coming home, how could we...”

Elaine Rosalind smacked her cup down onto the table hard.

The countryside. All those years.

Hearing Lydia speak like that, and remembering the butler’s description of Clara as some wild villager girl, her expression turned icy. “Out of the question! You’re the future of this family. There’s no way I’m letting you walk into that mess.”

She paused for a second, then ordered coldly, “Send Clara straight to the Abyss Villa. She doesn’t need to come home.”