Benny Palr and Lucas King really did stay for lunch.
A family of five, plus two "freeloaders", gathered around a full table—the Imperial Garden hadn’t been this lively in years.
"Co on, let’s toast to Christopher’s return from the brink, cheers!" Benny Palr looked at his buddy lying on the smart wheelchair, teasing him on purpose, "Christopher, you can’t move, and you can’t drink, so I will reluctantly... drink a few more for you."
Christopher Hart: "As if you’ve grown a mouth!" So much nonsense.
Alia Garcia smiled as she stood up, raising her glass of juice, "It’s indeed a cause for celebration, and you guys have been through so much these days, helping him a lot."
Benny withdrew his gaze, turning to Alia, then teased, "When you say that... you make feel like you’re the lady of the house again—are you thinking of getting back together?"
Alia’s face turned red and her eyes instantly beca uncomfortable.
"Uh... here Ethan, Noah, Hope, let’s all toast." Unable to respond, she resorted to using the kids as shields.
The three little ones climbed onto the chairs, each holding a glass of juice, toasting with the adults, giggling and laughing, so happy.
Christopher lay there, listening to their joyful laughs; even though the luncheon was in his honor, he felt—like all the fun belonged to soone else, irrelevant to him.
Subsequently, his face unconsciously turned even colder.
"Just eat your al, such a drama." The man of the house protested.
Benny sat down with a smile, picking up his chopsticks, "Hear that, soone’s jealous. Eat up, eat up. After you’re full, get lost before a certain soone freezes."
Christopher Hart: "..."
Alia sat down, turning to look at him, "You must be hungry, right? Today’s soup is not bad, should I feed you so first?"
"No need... you go ahead and eat with the kids, I’m not hungry yet."
"Oh, okay then."
Since he said so, Alia didn’t insist; she turned around and started helping the three little ones eat.
Christopher couldn’t see but could hear the sound of their eager eating, and he felt a tightness, a maddening frustration.
He was just being polite, and that woman really... so decisive. Not even insisting for a mont longer, she turned to eat on her own.
Hmph!
Good thing she didn’t co over; he feared he’d be fed up with her nagging every day, not to ntion how to recover from his condition.
During the al, the guests and children all ate harmoniously, except for the lone "Master of the Ice Cellar".
If Benny didn’t have sothing to do in the afternoon, he’d have really liked to stay a bit longer to see just how far his buddy could take this.
He and Alia had known each other for nearly as long as those two childhood sweethearts.
In his mind, Alia was almost like a sister.
After all, it’s taboo to covet a brother’s wife; wouldn’t he understand such a basic principle?
This jealousy was utterly incomprehensible!
It was an outright insult to his character!
"Alright, we’ve eaten our fill, ti for us to roll out." Benny stood up and said this, casting another glance at the man in the wheelchair, then deliberately said, "Alia, you have to take care of three little rascals, take care of the patient, and deal with work—it’s really tough on you, be sure to look after your health. If you get overwheld, just call . I might not be good at taking care of people, but I excel at being a nuisance."
"..." Alia listened and thought the first part was normal, but the more she listened, the more awkward she felt, her smile turning stiff.
As the two were leaving, she excused herself from the dinner table, "Young Master Palr, have a safe trip."
Fearful that she might escort the guests out, Christopher lay still, but his face suddenly contorted in pain, letting out a faint cry.
Alia noticed, and imdiately expressed concern, "What’s wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable?"
Benny turned back to look, chuckling, "No need to escort us out, look after Three-Year-Old Hart."
Alia didn’t think Christopher was faking it; after all, since they left the hospital, he had been toughing it out for three or four hours.
He should have rested already.
"You must be hungry, eat sothing and head back to your room to lie down. Even though you’ve been discharged, your body is still weak; you need to rest more."
As she spoke, she asked Aunt Harper to reheat a bowl of hot soup from the kitchen.
"Co on, open up, drink so soup."
Three-Year-Old Hart obediently opened his mouth.
After swallowing the soup, he asked, "How are you considering it?"
"Considering what?"
"What do you think?" He raised his eyebrow.
Alia lowered her eyelashes, her tone faint, "If you don’t want to annoy , just eat up and go rest."
"You can laugh and talk with them, but you’re harsh and bossy with ..."
Before he could finish, Alia angrily threw the spoon back into the bowl, causing the soup to splash onto the man’s face, scalding him slightly.
The servant clearing the table beside them shrank back in fright, turning to look.
"Enough already! Don’t forget our current relationship, just ex-husband and ex-wife. Looking after you isn’t my obligation, so stop your whining! I’m sick of it!" Alia was genuinely angry.
She was already stretched thin by her bustling schedule, having to spend half a day attending to him and enduring all his unreasonable tantrums had pushed her temper to the brink of explosion.
Christopher, though blind, could still sense her anger.
Beside them, Hope crisply called out, "Daddy, don’t make mommy angry anymore, neither my brothers nor I needed Mommy to feed us, and yet you need her to feed you. Cherish it."
"...," Mr. Hart could only fall silent, obediently closing his mouth.
The woman picked up the spoon again and continued to feed him, her movents becoming much quicker.
The man didn’t dare to make a sound, gulping down the food, hardly having ti to swallow— the scene was sowhat comical and slightly pathetic.
After finishing the al, Alia Garcia put the bowl down, "Let’s go, ti to go back to the room to rest."
The smart wheelchair was easy to operate, and the woman effortlessly escorted him to the upstairs bedroom.
Fuller helped transfer him to the bed and made sure he was comfortable.
"Are you leaving?"
She almost wanted to reply, "Otherwise what? Are you expecting to stay for Chinese New Year?"
But upon reflection, being angry all the ti wasn’t good for her heart, liver, spleen, or lungs.
Accordingly, she responded normally, "I still have things to attend to at the company, I need to go back, you should sleep now."
"Alright then..."
Christopher Hart had been struggling to stay awake for much of the day, was truly exhausted, and though reluctant, he soon closed his eyes and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
Alia Garcia stood by the bed, staring at the sleeping man, deep in thought.
He had forgotten the past decade of mories, and yet curiously maintained a firm grasp on company matters— can mory loss really be so peculiar?
Taking the children away from Imperial Garden, she asked Fuller to take the kids ho while she returned to the company.
On the road, she phoned Snow Fitch, sharing her doubts.
Snow replied, "My aunt and uncle are both doctors; should I ask them for you?"
"Mhm, that’s exactly what I ant." Knowing that Snow’s aunt and uncle were doctors was convenient for inquiries— she didn’t want to consult Christopher’s attending physician.
For so reason, she felt distrustful of this fellow in her heart, fearing that soone as powerful and influential as he had already bought the doctor’s compliance.
However, when Snow called back in the evening, she said, "My aunt and uncle aren’t neurology experts. But they asked their colleagues, and those experts said, ’The brain is a very miraculous structure, and even with the advancents in dicine and science to this day, there are still many unexplored areas.’ The condition you described could very well exist."
Alia Garcia furrowed her brow in thought, "Does that an, he didn’t lie to ?"
"It’s hard to say; Christopher Hart is capable of anything. However, the doctors said that selective amnesia might not necessarily be due to damage to the brain’s mory functions but could be a psychological disorder. He subconsciously wants to forget things he doesn’t want to face and could have forgotten such mories after experiencing so trendous change."
Snow suggested, "If you really want him to recover all his mories, you might consider taking him to see a psychologist."
"Seeing a psychologist... I’ve thought about that before, but first, his body hasn’t fully recovered, and second, I’m afraid he might not agree."
His body hadn’t recovered, and if a psychologist attempted hypnotherapy or sothing similar, it might impact him sowhat.
And for himself, he had forgotten the unpleasant things and rembered only the beautiful ones— wasn’t that an ideal state? Who would want to bring back unpleasant mories?
"Let’s wait and see."
"Mhm," Snow replied and was about to hang up when she suddenly rembered sothing.
"Oh right, do you rember that serialized novel on the platform? It’s gone viral! The comnts section has tens of thousands of ssages, though most recent ones are bashing the male lead, blaming him for being blind to the female lead’s worth, and ranting about his awful family mbers being good as dead— you’ve been so busy lately, you probably haven’t been keeping up, right?"
"The novel went viral?" Indeed, Alia had been swamped during this ti and had completely forgotten about it.
"Yes, go check it out! It’s a pity Christopher can’t see; otherwise, reading this novel might have helped him recover his mory, and then he wouldn’t need any treatnt!"
After hanging up, Alia Garcia imdiately opened the platform and found the serialized novel.
And there it was...
The comnts section was ablaze with the indignation of the readers, which was palpable even through the screen.
The male lead, who had been praised so highly before, was now being rcilessly criticized.
So internet sleuth had even linked certain plot points from the novel with recent online celebrity gossip, speculating that the novel was based on real events and explicitly suggesting that the male lead was Seal-Cloud Corporation’s CEO while the female lead was Venus’s chief designer, Clarke Norton.
Alia Garcia scrolled through the comnts section, breaking into a cold sweat.
This...
What on earth was Christopher thinking when he commissioned soone to write this— looking for trouble?
Too bad he’s currently out of his senses and definitely doesn’t rember doing such a foolish thing.
She thought for a bit and then imdiately called Lucas King.
At Seal-Cloud Corporation, Lucas King, who was in the middle of a eting, took notice of Alia Garcia’s call and discreetly left the conference room, "Hello, Mrs. Hart."
Alia got straight to the point, "Before the accident, did Christopher et with any writers or scriptwriters? Do you know about the serialized novel online? The male and female leads written about... seem to be, him and ?"
Lucas, in a low voice, "Madam, you know about the novel too..."
"You seem to be aware of this," Alia deduced from his response, puzzled she asked, "What exactly is he trying to do? Why have soone write these things?"
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