Florence stammered, "You... you've had a child? Why didn't you say so when we met on the road?"
Sarah replied matter-of-factly, "Because you didn't ask."
Florence felt utterly defeated.
"Florence, look at the person you've chosen!" Varley said, exasperated.
"You didn't get married, did you? Are you divorced now? You must clarify this—bigamy is illegal." Florence was overwhelmed.
"I've never been married, but what exactly do you want from me? Isn't this whole thing about warding off misfortune? If you're that keen on gossip, go find a paparazzi. I'm under no obligation to share my private matters with you. Unless the master said only a virgin can ward off misfortune, you'll have to find someone else. I can't help you there." Sarah was becoming impatient.
Mr. and Mrs. Varley both looked grim.
One muttered about the misfortune that has befallen the family, and the other lamented the situation.
Florence glanced at the time—it was already 11:57. There was really no time left for hesitation.
She hurriedly called the Huston Civil Affairs Bureau, which had been pre-informed, and reported the ID numbers of Sarah and Anthony. They responded swiftly, processing the marriage registration remotely before 12 o'clock.
Absolutely confidential, with no information traceable online.
Ordinarily, people wouldn't get married this way, but this was a Varley affair, so it was a different case altogether.
Mr. and Mrs. Varley looked at Sarah. This woman who was a stranger 20 minutes ago was now their daughter-in-law, the future mistress of Huston's top family. They felt as if they had boarded a pirate ship, entrusting the wrong person.
Now they only hoped the master's words would prove true, and that this flash marriage, aimed at warding off misfortune, could grant their son a new lease on life.
"I'll take the new bride to see the groom, after all, tonight is the wedding night." Florence, noticing her brother and sister-in-law's low spirits, led Sarah out of the hall.
"Butler, check out this woman's background," Varley instructed.
...
"My nephew is very handsome, extremely dashing, the kind of man women can't keep their legs closed for when they see him. You'll know once you see him. Really, with your looks, Sally, you and my nephew are a perfect match! If you marry someone else, it'd be a waste of that face." Florence, like a vegetable vendor trying to sell her wares, was enthusiastically promoting her nephew.
Fate is a strange thing indeed.
Florence had a strong feeling that the cool girl in front of her was the one the master had indicated could save Anthony.
Though she had bumped into her on the street to replace Emily Tarter, she might actually be more suitable.
"Don't feel any pressure. The master said that warding off misfortune isn't just beneficial for my nephew's recovery but also substantially advantageous to the girl marrying him. This isn't about tricking someone into a pit of fire; it's a blessing, a win-win situation."
Florence continued to chatter, "So, you don't need to care about my brother and sister-in-law. Once that kid wakes up, just get along well with each other. I'm telling you, although Anthony looks cool, he's actually very shy and doesn't know how to interact with girls..."
Sarah was getting annoyed, "Doesn't know how to interact with girls, then how did he have a son? Did he donate sperm?"
One word left Florence speechless, and Sarah finally had some peace and quiet.
...
Florence led Sarah to an inner room, unconsciously softening her steps.
Her mood was sour.
Anthony!
Such a perfect man!
He stood proudly at the pinnacle of Huston's power pyramid, commanding with authority and overlooking everyone!
Now he could only lie silently on the bed, speechless, expressionless, a living dead.
The more glorious the past, the more desolate the present.
Always cheerful, Florence couldn't help but have red eyes.
She sincerely hoped that the girl beside her was indeed the destined fortune-bringer for her nephew.
Sarah also quietly looked at the man lying on the bed—her legal husband now.
Florence hadn't lied. This man was truly handsome, with a refined and noble aura.
Because he had been bedridden for half a year, his face was a bit gaunt, but it made his features even more distinct, like an ancient Greek sculpture.
This was the kind of face that could earn 2000 dollars an hour by merely posing as a model at an art academy.
Of course, with his family background, he didn't need to earn money that way.