"Celia, you finally came down the mountain! You have no idea, your biological parents' people have been looking for you for days. They're still outside the village chief's place!" Celia had barely reached the foot of the mountain when Old Madam Warth, who had been keeping watch there, called out and stopped her. Celia answered politely. She even looked like she was listening, but her expression barely shifted. Old Madam Warth studied her, suspicious. She had always known this child to be quiet and reserved. Still, she could not help feeling that Celia's reaction to hearing her biological family had come for her was… almost nothing. The thought flickered past and was tossed aside. Old Madam Warth kept talking, bright-eyed and eager, her words brimming with gossip and the itch to spill it all. "Celia, I'm telling you, your real family is way more reliable than that Haobin couple. The moment they found out you were here, they sent their butler to look for you. He's been waiting for days," she said, then grew a little embarrassed. "And that butler, he even gave every one of us two hundred yuan a day, just to keep an eye out for when you'd come down!" "I'm telling you, Celia, they truly mean to take you back and let you live the good life!" As she spoke, Old Madam Warth tugged Celia along and whispered instructions like a secret. "See that black car over there with the fan logo? Don't worry if you don't recognize it. Grandma's telling you, that's an expensive, expensive luxury car!" That "Haobin couple" was Celia's adoptive parents. Not long after having a baby, the two had gotten into a fight and dumped Celia, still swaddled, in their village before walking away and never looking back. If the old Greaves couple who had lived up on the mountain had not picked her up, she would never have made it to this day. The old couple had passed five years ago. Celia had stubbornly stayed on the mountain ever since. With her biological parents finally coming for her, the child had, at last, seen the end of her suffering. Noticing the pity in Old Madam Warth's gaze, Celia had no idea what wild story the woman had spun in her head. She could only feel both amused and exasperated. Following the direction of Old Madam Warth's finger, she spotted the "fan logo" car parked at the village chief's gate. A Mercedes-Benz S450. 2560mm wheelbase. 512 horsepower. 63 lb-ft of torque. One glance was enough to kill her interest. Old Madam Warth's shout, however, drew the neighbors at the foot of the mountain right out of their homes. Phoenix Village had developed at a baffling pace in recent years. It was no longer the poor mountain backwater it used to be. The moment the villagers had free time, their warm, nosy nature woke up in full force. Under all those burning, eager stares, Celia had no choice but to head toward the village chief's house. … … Inside the village chief's home, Celia had just stepped through the door when a middle-aged man turned a hard, assessing gaze on her. It was sharp and undisguised. But the instant his eyes landed on her face, he froze. The girl before him had breathtaking features. Her skin was pale and smooth as cream, and her eyes looked as if they held a skyful of stars, deep and boundless all at once. It was nothing like the grimy, downtrodden village girl he had imagined. When he snapped back to himself, he remembered how Miss Chloe, so gentle and kind, had secretly cried until her eyes swelled. His expression turned even harsher, colder. "You're Celia Greaves?" He had to admit it. Celia Greaves was strikingly beautiful. Even if he hated to, he still had to admit she looked far better than Miss Chloe. But beyond that face, the girl in front of him was worthless. She wore cheap clothes with no visible brand. Everything about her was plain. The only jewelry she seemed to own was the red string tied around her wrist, with a small square charm that looked like silver, but not quite. Setting aside that air of poverty, she certainly could not compare to the carefully cultivated Miss Chloe in music, chess, calligraphy, painting, or academics… Butler Sowden had started by looking into Celia's high school. Her homeroom teacher said she had already missed nearly half a semester. Even when she did show up, it was sporadic, like she could not be bothered to attend. Most days, no one even saw her on campus. And when it came to grades, that neat stack of zero-score test papers had nearly made him choke on air. Celia lifted her eyes, her lazy gaze settling on the middle-aged man just as casually. His face was severe, his suit crisp. Everything about him screamed superiority. Celia did not speak. She looked like she could not be bothered to deny anything. With her eyes lowered, she slowly picked up her phone and opened WeChat, which she had not checked in days. She ignored the red dot that was nearly 99+ and focused on messages from someone whose nickname was "Mr. Letherdale." There were scattered texts spanning half a month. Above those were messages from over a month ago. [Celia, people from that Pine City nouveau riche Greaves family are probably about to come looking for you.] [Guess what?] [You and that Greaves family's someone got switched at birth!] [Celia, do you want to see them? If you don't, I'll have people block them for you.] [But seriously, how did two idiots like them give birth to a monster like you?] After that came a detailed file on the Greaves family. Celia's mouth twitched. Her gaze paused on his last message: [Celia, if you don't come back, the director's coming to hunt you down.] She did not even open the file. With perfect justification, she replied with four words: "I'm on vacation." Then she exited WeChat. Seeing Celia with her head down, playing on her phone, Butler Sowden's eyes flashed with displeasure. In the end, he spoke first. "I'm the Greaves family's butler. My surname is Shen. From now on, you may call me Butler Sowden." His tone was arrogant, and his eyes did not bother to hide their disdain. "Miss Celia, I came today because you are the Greaves family's child from over a decade ago, the one who was stolen away. The Greaves family does not allow its bloodline to remain outside, so we never stopped searching for you. A few days ago, we finally found you, and I was sent to bring you back to the Greaves family." After saying all that, Butler Sowden cleared his throat. His gaze flicked to the crude clay teacup on the table, disgust flashing across his face, and he ultimately chose not to drink. He looked at Celia with calm composure, waiting to see delight, shock, excitement, gratitude, anything at all, so he could continue. He was disappointed. Celia's expression stayed flat. Only when she heard the phrase "stolen child" did she lift an eyebrow. One leg bent slightly as she leaned against the wall, languid and loose. She looked at Butler Sowden with a half-smile that did not quite reach her eyes. It made him uncomfortable. There was no joy at learning she came from a wealthy family. Not even surprise at discovering her biological parents were someone else. If anything, her expression looked faintly… mocking. Worse, Celia did not respond, and he could not smoothly steer the conversation into warning her not to dream of taking anything from Miss Chloe. But then he understood. How could a village girl from some poor mountain ravine possibly know what the Greaves family of Pine City represented? A trace of contempt slid through Butler Sowden's eyes. Someone that ignorant would not dare fight Miss Chloe for anything. He stood, brushed at imaginary dust on his clothes, and said loftily, "In any case, that's the situation. Miss Celia, the car is outside. Come with me." As Celia looked toward the Mercedes again, two words surfaced in her mind: free labor. She seemed to consider it. Catching her gaze on the car, Butler Sowden sneered inwardly, his disdain deepening. So she really was a backwater girl who could not step onto any proper stage. Even if she had hidden it well earlier, what did it matter? The moment she saw a luxury car, she still revealed that greedy, ignorant nature. Celia did not care what he was thinking. She narrowed her eyes and made her decision. "I'm going back to pick up a few things. Please come here tomorrow at this time to get me." Butler Sowden frowned instinctively. This miserable, impoverished mountain village was a place he wanted to leave the moment he arrived. Celia wanted him to stay one more day? When he came to collect her, the village chief had told them Celia lived on the mountain behind the village. No one could reach her. They could only wait for her to come down on her own. So the village chief suggested they wait at the foot of the mountain. Who could have guessed they would end up waiting five or six days? Butler Sowden had already been irritated from the delay. Now that he had finally found her, there was no way he wanted to spend even one more day in this godforsaken place. He forced down his impatience. "Miss Celia, the madam and the young miss have already prepared everything you need. You don't have to bring anything from here. Just come back with me." He assumed she meant to pack. "Oh?" Celia curled her fingers and tapped the tabletop twice in a steady rhythm. It looked like a sincere question, but her whole manner was careless, touched with a cold indifference. "Then what, exactly, did they prepare?" Butler Sowden's body stiffened. He went silent.