Spring blooms, ice and snow melt, and that’s all there is to it.
The driver secretly breathed a sigh of relief, knowing without having to guess that the person sending the text message must be Miss Sophie Wilson.
No one else has the ability to stir his master’s emotions .
The driver looked through the rearview mirror and noticed a problem—his master was frowning as if faced with a problem that had been waiting a century for him to solve.
The driver was mulling this over in his heart.
What could possibly trouble his master?
Even if the driver couldn’t figure it out, he knew it must be of great importance, a problem that neither ordinary nor extraordinary people could solve.
Otherwise, his master wouldn’t be so troubled.
After all, he’d been by his master’s side for so long, and he’d never seen him .
This command must be difficult to issue.
Through the rearview mirror, the driver watched his master’s slender and strong fingers hesitating over the phone’s keys for a long time without pressing down. He had a sense of what was happening.
It seemed that making this decision might involve a huge amount of funds, sway many people, and change numerous destinies.
The decision that worried the driver so much... was actually just three simple words on the phone’s screen from Sophie Wilson—"I miss you."
The reply, crafted by Charles Seymour, was just as concise—"Me too."
However, he suddenly felt as if his fingers were frozen; pressing this button on the phone seemed more difficult than any decision he had ever made.
Finally, taking a deep breath, Charles Seymour gritted his teeth, clicked, sent, and it was successfully sent... Strangely, he felt a sense of untrammeled determination.
At the same time, his heart relaxed, tinged with a little secret delight.
He and Sophie were in a romantic relationship, so sometimes exchanging sweet sentiments was normal.
Charles Seymour, continually giving himself inner reassurance, suddenly received another text from Sophie Wilson on his phone.
Upon opening it, Charles Seymour’s face... slowly turned red.
The message had no text, just three symbols forming an expression—^3^
Charles Seymour awkwardly cleared his throat; how could this person be so... well, ?
A bit embarrassed yet tinged with a rosy sweetness, Charles Seymour quickly copied it and sent it back.
When Sophie’s phone chimed and she saw the reply, she couldn’t help but break into a sweet, gentle smile.
The warmth dispelled the cold "family ties" in this "home."
"Why should it be given to her?" Lily Warren sternly asked.
She knew that any decision Stephen Wilson made would never be changed, so Lily Warren’s accusation was aimed directly at Sophie Wilson: "Sophie Wilson, are you crazy for money? You even dare to take your sister’s things!"
Faced with Lily Warren’s distortion of the truth, Sophie Wilson just let out a contemptuous laugh.
Arguing with a madwoman was not something she’d waste her time on.
Besides, she had family waiting for her in the car outside, so why should she care about the "family" in front of her?
Thinking of Charles Seymour, even if she hadn’t witnessed the scene, Sophie Wilson knew how awkward it must have been for him to send that text.
Clearly adept at strategic thinking and calm under pressure, yet in front of her, he became as clumsy as a child.
How could she not be moved by such genuine feelings?