Chapter 4

With a gentle laugh, Eleanor said to her son, Alex, "The little one beside her is Lizzy Xia—she's your daughter."

Alex immediately recalled the "friendly advice" the butler had offered him earlier. It seemed the old man truly did have his best interests at heart. On the outside, Alex appeared unaffected, a portrait of composure. But inside, he felt as if he were weathering a storm. He took a brief look at his "daughter." He thought, 'She doesn't resemble me in the slightest. If you're going to play such a trick on me, at least bring a child who looks a bit like me!'

He was speechless and bewildered by the ongoing charade but knew he had to maintain his poise. Moving his gaze from the child's face to the woman beside her, he said in a deep voice, "It's been a long time."

Facing him, Michelle took in the tall, handsome man before her—mature and composed. Yet she didn't recognize him, even though he was supposedly the father of her child. After a moment of stunned silence, Michelle echoed Alex’s words, her tone equally grave, "Yes, it's been a while."

Neither seemed keen on reminiscing about the past, and both appeared reluctant to continue the conversation. Eleanor observed the duo—their exchanges, their reactions—and thought, 'Both of you sure are good actors.' She was the kind of person who loved a good show, but this reunion was starting to feel a bit lackluster. It was nothing—absolutely nothing—like what she had imagined.

Alex paid no heed to Eleanor. He knew his mother all too well—she was probably just bored and relishing some drama. He had no intention of discussing the matter of the "daughter" with Eleanor and Ms. Xia at the dinner table. The three sat without pleasantries or conversation, intending to get through the meal in silence.

Lizzy was a perceptive child. Although unaware of the situation, she could sense her mother's reluctance to remain. By coincidence, she didn’t like being there either. The surroundings felt too alien to her. What she truly cherished was the large bed at their home. She made up her mind to finish her bowl of millet porridge and then tell her mother she wanted to go home. The energy of a young child is finite. Combined with the fact that Lizzy was unwell, she easily grew tired. She ate like a little chick pecking at seeds, waking up just in time to prevent her forehead from hitting the table. She'd then continue, spooning the porridge drowsily.

Michelle noticed the young girl beside her fading but, having no experience with children, was unsure what to do. Eventually, when the little one's head did knock against the table, Michelle felt a mix of amusement and pity. Setting down her own utensils, she began to feed Lizzy the remaining half bowl of porridge. It was Michelle’s first time feeding a child, resulting in porridge smeared all over the little girl's face.

Undeterred by the glances from Eleanor and Alex, Michelle held her ground, unfazed. In her eyes, if Lizzy was messy, it was entirely the child's fault. What did it have to do with her? By the time she managed to feed the rest of the porridge to Lizzy, Michelle felt as if her arm might fall off from fatigue.

An observant servant, noticing the child's messy face, handed Michelle a warm towel. Just as Michelle was about to express her gratitude, Lizzy took the initiative, grabbing the towel. Silently, she wiped her face, then handed it back, voicing a soft, childish "thank you."

Michelle paused, feeling as if the little one had just thrown her a shade of silent reproach.

After the arduous dinner, Michelle felt drained to her core. She wished she could be like Lizzy, where a mere yawn would lead Eleanor to immediately rush her off to bed. But she wasn’t Lizzy. She still had to face the impending questions from Eleanor and Alex about the origins of the child.

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Earlier, just as dinner had concluded, Lizzy had begun to act petulant, expressing a desire to go home to bed. Michelle had actually intended to seize this opportunity to promptly take Lizzy home. However, before she could make her intentions known, Eleanor had interjected.

“Dear Lizzy,” Eleanor had said, "How about letting this lady take you to watch some cartoons for a bit?" Continuing, she added, "Your mom still needs to chat with us. If you get sleepy, maybe you can rest in the next room for a while, okay?"

Lizzy, being exceptionally attached to her mother, was not pleased by the idea of not watching the cartoon alongside Michelle. With a crestfallen face, she uttered a defiant "no" and rushed to Michelle, tightly wrapping her arms around her mother's leg. It was a clear declaration of "wherever mom is, I am."

Seeing Lizzy’s reaction, Eleanor looked up at Michelle with a knowing smile, remaining silent. The message was clear: Michelle couldn’t use this as an excuse to escape. The conversation with Alex had to happen.

With a silent sigh, Michelle could only cajole the little one with soothing words, promising her that she’d be back soon. With that assurance, Lizzy acquiesced. Michelle applied a cooling patch to her and accompanied her for a brief cartoon viewing. Soon enough, Lizzy was engrossed in the animated world.

Michelle paused and reflected. Truly, for little ones, the allure of cartoons was immense.

Emerging from the guest room where Lizzy was engrossed in her cartoon, the butler guided Michelle to the study on the second floor. All evening, she'd been mulling over how to concoct a tale about her relationship with Alex. The actual age of “Michelle” was three years older than herself, and with Lizzy nearing her fourth birthday, that meant “Michelle” must have been involved with Alex at a tender age of nineteen, perhaps even younger. Contemplating this, she concluded that Alex was not the paragon of virtue she'd hoped for. Silently, with a stoic expression, she mentally branded him a "scumbag".

The study wasn’t far from the guest room, and the butler promptly ushered her inside. With an attentive gesture, he opened the door for her, reassuringly adding, "Miss Xia, there's no need to be anxious. The lady of the house is quite amiable." Expressing her gratitude with a gentle, appreciative smile, Michelle replied, "Thank you. I’m not nervous, really. I might need your assistance with my daughter later on." Though the butler seemed poised to further comfort her, she had already entered the study.

The spacious room was lined with a diverse range of books, and two desks adorned the space. One was clearly an office desk, laden with a computer and various equipment, while the other seemed reserved for reading and conversation. She had expected both Eleanor and Alex to be present, but only found Eleanor, engrossed in her reading, with no sign of Alex.

On seeing Michelle, Eleanor gestured for her to sit opposite. Without setting aside her book, she commented, "Just let me finish this chapter. It won't be long." Michelle’s eyes flickered in amusement upon seeing the pastel-covered novel. Really? The affluent lady was fond of these clichéd romance novels popular a decade ago? It was a moment that slightly shook Michelle’s previously held notions.

Soon, Eleanor concluded her chapter and, with a hint of reluctance, bookmarked her page. Checking the time, she explained, “Alex had to attend to some urgent work matters. He'll join us shortly." Michelle nodded, signaling her understanding.

Alex was a workaholic, a fact she was privy to, having been informed by the original writer. On the desk sat a tea tray, and with practiced grace, Eleanor heated the water, rinsed the cups, and began the meticulous process of tea preparation. She eventually poured a cup for Michelle.

With downcast eyes, Michelle murmured a soft "Thank you." Her face was serene, devoid of any overt signs of fear or anxiety. Whether it was the Michelle of the past or the current “Michelle”, their appearances were strikingly similar; both bore the features of a gentle beauty with delicate and refined countenance. It wasn’t that Michelle possessed an otherworldly beauty, but rather, it was the harmonious blend of her demeanor and looks that elicited such feelings.

Eleanor had always been a connoisseur of beauty. In her younger age, she had founded a talent agency and even mentored a diva whose fame had once spanned all of Asia. She was no stranger to beautiful women, and while Michelle’s beauty wasn't necessarily breathtaking in her eyes, it was her unique blend of looks and charisma that triggered Eleanor’s professional instincts. She found herself ruminating on the notion that if only Michelle had been born a decade or two earlier, she would have undoubtedly made her a star.

Oblivious to Eleanor’s thoughts, Michelle’s mind was preoccupied with concocting her story with Alex. After all, crafting stories was their forte. The incidents involving “Michelle” and Alex transpired four years ago, and she doubted Alex would remember every single detail from that period. Absorbed in her mental narrative, she was unaware that Eleanor had been observing her for quite some time.

Taking a sip from her tea, Eleanor glanced towards the door of the study. Seeing that Michelle hadn't reacted, she finally broke the silence, inquiring, "Miss Xia, how did you come to know Alex?” Although she was asking about their acquaintance, the underlying question was clearly about the origins of little Lizzy.

The dramatic flair within Michelle emerged as she responded with a trace of resentment, "Why don't you ask Mr. Ye instead?" Eleanor chuckled, "I've watched Alex grow up, so I know what kind of man he has become." There was an inherent confidence in her tone, "There are certain things he simply wouldn't do."

Michelle posed, "Including 'indiscretions after a drink'?" Eleanor replied delicately, "Actually, Alex holds his liquor quite well." Michelle’s lips pursed, momentarily at a loss for words.

It was her first day in this world, it was also the first day she met Lizzy. As harsh as it might sound, to her, Lizzy wasn't her child. She was merely a little friend she had known for a day. The life of this world's “Michelle” as an unwed mother hadn't been easy, as evident from the bank notices and IOUs.

For both her and Lizzy, reuniting the child with the Ye family seemed like the best decision. It would make life a little easier for Michelle, while ensuring material comfort for Lizzy, rather than feeling helpless even when the child fell ill. Michelle wasn’t truly “Michelle”, and her experiences had taught her that a child's emotional needs weren't necessarily greater than their material ones. Of course, she didn't intend to abandon Lizzy, nor label her as a burden. She simply believed that life with the Ye family would be best for the child’s overall well-being.

Facing Eleanor, she calmly stated, “Lizzy is Alex’s child. If you say she's not, then she isn't. I'm prepared to take her and leave right now." She faintly heard footsteps behind her, soft at first and then getting closer until they halted beside her. Alex pulled out the chair next to her and sat, legs crossed, projecting an air of casualness. He glanced at Eleanor as if recollecting something, then remarked rather nonchalantly, "About four years ago, probably in March, I had drinks with a client. I think I might've had one too many." Michelle was speechless. She no longer needed to make up her story. Apparently, some people truly remembered what had transpired four years ago. Still marveling at Alex’s memory, she heard him suggest, "Let's have a paternity test done tomorrow."