018: Keeping company with a monarch is like accompanying a tiger

The white Range Rover moved through the hustle and bustle of Capital City.

Amelia Clarke sat quietly in the back seat, her eyelashes lowered, her expression faint.

Suddenly, the car stopped near a mall.

Owen Moreland said to Dorothy Brown, "Go to the mall and see if there are any fresh ingredients to buy. I have guests coming to the house for dinner tonight."

The "house" he referred to was not the Moreland residence, but his private villa outside.

Dorothy Brown asked, "How many guests does Mr. Moreland plan to have over?"

Owen Moreland answered offhandedly, "Two."

In the spirit of frugality, Dorothy Brown smiled and said, "I've bought quite a lot of ingredients previously and stored them in the fridge. We haven't finished them yet. There are vegetables, meat, and seafood—all enough to entertain two guests."

A trace of coldness crept onto Owen's already stern face. Turning to give Dorothy Brown a cool glance, he said harshly, "Just go if I tell you to! Why all the nonsense?"

The authoritative aura of a high-powered individual was fully on display, compelling obedience to his words.

Dorothy Brown instinctively shuddered and quickly said, "Yes, yes, yes." She opened the car door and fled without even remembering to say goodbye to Amelia Clarke.

Amelia Clarke was already uncomfortable in Owen Moreland's presence, and the awkward incident from before made it worse. Now, with his sudden outburst—though not directed at her—she still felt frightened and anxious.

She suddenly had a feeling of "half living in fear, as if by a tiger's side."

She shrank into herself, trying to lower her presence.

The white Range Rover hit the road again.

Amelia wasn't sure if Owen's anger had subsided, but she distinctly felt the car accelerate, the street scenes in her peripheral vision rapidly receding, even the 'roar' of the car speeding could be heard by the ear.

She felt a bit scared, grabbing the armrest tightly.

Glancing at Owen Moreland, from her seated position in the back-right, she could see part of his side profile, the air of aloofness radiating from him. The words imploring him to slow down reached Amelia's throat but were choked back, unsaid.

Suddenly, a sharp turn made Amelia slam heavily against the car door, and she couldn't hold back a cry of pain.

Owen Moreland glanced at the rearview mirror. The girl in the backseat was pale, her bright, lively eyes now brimming with fear.

His lips, already tightly pressed, became even more so.

The speed of the car gradually decreased.

After a while, as the gates of Bordine University came into view, Amelia quietly sighed with relief.

The car came to a steady stop at the entrance of Bordine University.

Amelia picked up her belongings and thanked him, eager to leave the car. She feared that spending another moment with Owen Moreland would make her die of nervousness.

"Wait," Owen Moreland suddenly said.

Amelia's body trembled, and her fingers tightened around her bag. After a short pause, she flashed him a smile and carefully asked, "Does Mr. Moreland need something?"

Owen Moreland turned his head, his deep gaze calmly settling on her, "My phone's out of battery, lend me yours for a bit."

Without any suspicion, Amelia quickly took out her phone from her bag and handed it to him.

Owen Moreland took the phone and then gave her another look, one that felt judgmental. It inexplicably hollowed Amelia's heart, as if she had done something to let him down.

He fiddled with Amelia's phone for a while, then asked her, "If you get a text message on this phone, can you see it?"

"Yes," Amelia hurriedly responded.

"Can you reply to messages?"

"Yes."

After that, Owen Moreland did not ask anything more. He played with the phone for a few more moments, then turned and tossed the phone back into Amelia's arms, saying brusquely, "Thanks."

Not sure if it was just her imagination, but Amelia felt like he was quite displeased.

But she didn't dare to ask anything, and after putting her phone back in her bag, her fingers accidentally touched her wallet, and she remembered she hadn't yet returned the remaining deposit funds.

She pulled out the excess of over twenty thousand, plus her own ten thousand, and pushed it forward, "Thank you, Mr. Moreland, for covering my hospital deposit. This is the remaining 22,000 yuan… plus the 15,000 yuan from the promotion event, totaling 37,000 yuan. I still owe you 13,000 yuan, which I will repay as soon as possible."

Amelia Clarke had only left herself a few hundred yuan for living expenses.

Owen Moreland's brow seemed to furrow slightly. As he turned and saw the sincere and earnest expression on the girl's face in the back seat, without any hint of politeness or falsehood, he could tell that she truly didn't want to owe him.

So she still owes 13,000 yuan?

And she'll repay it as soon as possible?

His thin lips curved into an arc of obscure meaning as he accepted the money Amelia had handed over.

"When it comes to repaying the money, you can send me a message or call me; you have my number."

This statement didn't seem problematic, but for some reason, Amelia sensed something unusual in it, she couldn't pinpoint what exactly, but the tone felt off and somewhat awkward.

She obediently nodded, looking docile with her eyes reflecting pure innocence. Owen Moreland averted his gaze, turned around, and took out tobacco and a lighter from the storage compartment. He lit up, and the pungent smell of tobacco instantly filled the air.

Amelia Clarke got out of the car, closed the door behind her, thanked Owen Moreland again, and turned to leave with a rather hurried pace.

The winter morning in Capital City was sunny and mild, casting a soft halo over the retreating figure of the girl, her slender frame appearing delicate in the light.

Owen Moreland rolled down the window, and the cold air rushed into the car. He casually rested his hand with the cigarette on the window sill, squinting his eyes slightly. Once the girl disappeared from view, he took a drag of the cigarette and gently exhaled the smoke through his lips, his expression stern and deep, exuding a strong masculine aura.

After a while, he smirked with a touch of scorn.

But who the scorn was directed at, it was unclear.

A large bird flew overhead with a rustling sound.

Amelia Clarke looked up briefly, her expression grave, even heavy.

Her finances were already tight, and the sudden debt of 13,000 yuan had left her feeling understandably distressed.

When she got back to her dorm, the other three had gone to attend class, leaving the place tidy and empty.

Before she had been discharged, the nurse had just changed the dressing on her head, but she didn't want to show up in front of Viola Harris with her head wrapped in white gauze. Viola would surely be nervous and full of questions. She didn't want to tell another lie to Viola Harris, her only good friend in this unfamiliar city.

It wasn't that she didn't get along with Mia Moreland, but Mia had lived a life of privilege from a young age, a young lady unfamiliar with the hardships of ordinary people, whereas it was Viola Harris who truly understood her.

She removed the gauze and let her hair down to cover the wound, making it seem nothing was amiss.

Approaching mealtime, Amelia Clarke took advantage of the classes still in session and the emptiness of the cafeteria to grab lunch.

Back at the dorm, it wasn't long before Viola Harris returned, carrying a takeout container from the school cafeteria.

Seeing Amelia, her expression froze for a moment, then she smiled happily, "When did you get back? You didn't even call."

"I haven't been back long," Amelia smiled and gestured towards the plastic food container on Viola's desk, "That's from my home. Give it a try."

Viola Harris opened the container to find sauce-coated duck necks; the seeds of chili peppers and Szechuan peppercorns were clearly visible, the kind of strong flavor that whets one's appetite.

"Did your mom make this?"

Amelia's eyes flickered slightly. "Sort of."

Viola Harris glanced at her with a smile, "Why have your recent replies been so enigmatic? If it is, it is; if it isn't, it isn't. What do you mean by 'sort of'?"

Amelia just smiled, avoiding the question.

The duck necks were from Dorothy Brown.

Midway into her meal, Viola Harris turned towards Amelia, who was reading a textbook, and said, "Amelia, a senior wants to recommend me for a job at 'Peony Garden.' I heard that working there for one night can earn enough tips to feed and drink for a year, what do you think..."

Amelia Clarke was startled.

She had heard of 'Peony Garden'; as the saying goes, "To die beneath the peony flower is to be a wanton spirit in the afterlife." That place was a den of enchantment for men. Working there? Wouldn't that be leaping into the fire?