"You want to know?" Sebastian Forrest raised an eyebrow.
I nodded eagerly. "Mhm."
Sebastian Forrest crooked his finger at , and I imdiately leaned in, offering my ear.
The side of Sebastian Forrest’s hand rested against my cheek. As he drew closer, a crisp, deep, woody scent washed over , like a forest in early autumn—sparse, yet refreshing to the soul.
"I told him he was wrong just now. The truth is, I’ve liked you for over ten years..."
My heart leaped in shock. I almost recoiled instinctively, staring at him in a panic.
"Just kidding..." Sebastian Forrest’s lips curved into an even brighter smile. "Did you actually believe ?"
"Senior Forrest!" I glared at him, feigning anger.
’Seriously!’
’He’s going to scare to death one of these days!’
Sebastian Forrest’s smile grew wider. When he finally managed to stop laughing, he said, "Alright, no more jokes."
I was still brooding over the comnt that had startled , so I didn’t press him for an answer like before.
This ti, however, Sebastian Forrest didn’t beat around the bush. He stated plainly, "I told him about Aunt Langley being poisoned."
My jaw dropped in utter astonishnt. I never would have imagined Sebastian Forrest would choose such a ti and place to tell him.
But—
"Will Theodore Grant believe it?"
But Sebastian Forrest looked completely confident. "Don’t worry. This is about Aunt Langley. He has no choice but to believe it."
...
「The night grew deep.」
It was already past nine o’clock by the ti Sebastian Forrest brought ho.
Since I had to be at the office early the next morning, I went straight to bed after washing up.
I slept soundly until the next morning.
But just as I was getting ready to wash up, Sebastian Forrest suddenly called.
"Hello, Senior Forrest? What’s up?"
"Are you up? Co over for breakfast."
"Huh?"
"I made enough for two. Are you coming here to eat, or should I bring it over?"
...
I was about to refuse, but hearing that, I could only hurry and say, "I’ll be over after I wash up."
"Okay, I’ll be waiting."
A few minutes later, I was knocking on Sebastian Forrest’s door.
"Co in." Sebastian Forrest was still wearing an apron, his bulging arms straining against his black t-shirt, the muscles in his arms defined and solid.
With that, he pulled back a dining chair and gestured for to sit. "Co on, sit and eat."
On the dining table were two bowls of steaming hot lamb soup. The broth was a pure white, dotted with green and white scallions—the picture of a perfect, aromatic dish.
And on a plate to the side was a stack of glistening, golden-brown scallion pancakes, so fresh they were still steaming.
My stomach imdiately started to rumble with hunger.
"Try it and see how it tastes. I made the broth with lamb leg bones, so the flavor should be pretty authentic."
I looked at the incredibly rich lamb broth, then at the large bones in a bowl to the side, full of marrow. I didn’t even need to taste it to know it would be absolutely delicious.
I quickly picked up my spoon, scooped up so broth, blew on it a few tis, and brought it to my lips.
"Be careful, don’t burn yourself."
"Mmm, delicious!" I gave him a very enthusiastic thumbs-up.
...
After we had eaten our fill, Sebastian Forrest drove to the office.
However, just as the car stopped at the company entrance, I saw a large group of girls gathered there. They were wearing light-up signs on their heads and holding banners, chanting slogans in unison.
They looked like a fan club supporting a celebrity.
I wasn’t particularly surprised by the sight and smiled as I pushed the door open to get out.
"Wait..."
But Sebastian Forrest grabbed my wrist, his brow slightly furrowed, and imdiately lowered the car window halfway.
The slogan from outside imdiately reached my ears.
"Chelsea Joyce, get out of Wind-Whisper!"
"Chelsea Joyce is indecent and morally corrupt! Get out of the voice acting industry!"
My jaw dropped in mild surprise. I’d heard about rabid, brain-dead fans before, but today was the first ti I’d seen them in the flesh.
’They’re actually here for ?’
’What is going on?’
"They must be Clara Langley’s fans." Sebastian Forrest pointed to the flamboyant script of ’Clara’s Grace’ printed on the fan rch jacket one of the girls was wearing.
I furrowed my brow slightly. I had obviously expected as much.
"It must be because of this Weibo post Clara Langley made yesterday..." Sebastian Forrest expertly pulled up his phone, handing it directly to . His voice was a little deep as he said, "She’s gotten quite good at using others to do her dirty work."
I quickly took the phone and saw that ’Clara Langley V’ had posted on Weibo at a little past nine last night: *After waiting so long for us to nd our broken mirror, another complication has co up. Why does sothing like a divorce cooling-off period even exist? I’ve had to start taking my antidepressants again after stopping for so long ┓(´∀`)┏, but it’s okay. I will definitely pull myself together and take back what was originally mine!*
Below the post was a long line of fans offering comfort and encouragent.
"Clara, please take good care of yourself! We’ll love you forever!"
"Clara and her guy are a match made in heaven! You two have to be happy!"
"Clara is so strong, I’m about to cry! Who on earth is bullying our beautiful and kind-hearted Clara!"
I couldn’t help but frown. I didn’t know if it was because I’d eaten too much for breakfast or from reading Weibo, but I suddenly felt a little nauseous.
And even more nurous were the comnts from fans tagging on Weibo.
Without exception, they were all insults and accusations, each one more vicious than the last.
"Stop reading." Sebastian Forrest took the phone back. "I’ll handle the comnts on Weibo."
I pursed my lips, pulled out my own phone, and opened my Weibo account. As soon as I logged in, my direct ssages showed 99 notifications, and so did my @ntions!
I then clicked on my most recent work-related post, only to find it had been completely overrun by Clara Langley’s fans, filled with nothing but filth and profanity!
I was so angry I actually laughed—what a brilliant move, using a borrowed knife to kill!
Just then, my phone rang. It was my departnt manager.
"Hello, Manager..."
"Joyce, you haven’t gotten to the office yet, have you? Take the day off today. Whatever you do, don’t co to the office."
"I’m already at the entrance."
"Don’t you dare co in." The manager’s voice was tense. "The entrance is surrounded by Clara Langley’s brain-dead fans. They’re mostly underage girls. If a real conflict breaks out, you’ll be in a world of trouble."
I couldn’t help but take a deep breath, feeling like my lungs were about to explode with rage.
The manager gave a few more instructions. Just as he was about to hang up, I heard a colleague’s voice through the phone, "Manager, soone just released a surveillance video on Weibo. It’s already number twenty on the trending list."
’A video?’
I raised an eyebrow in surprise. Just as I was wondering what kind of video it could be, Sebastian Forrest, a smirk on his lips, handed his phone over to .
A woman’s cold voice suddenly filled the quiet car, "You said you weren’t in the mood to file the divorce papers with , huh? But you have the ti and leisure to go shopping with Clara Langley?!"
I looked at Sebastian Forrest in utter astonishnt. That was—
’My voice?’
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