Upstairs, Morgan Ashworth watched as Willow Crawford got into the luxury car with the young master of The Western Reaches, gradually leaving his sight far behind. He didn’t withdraw his gaze, but spoke faintly, "That’s right, I’ve never planned to marry you, nor do I like you."

Wesley Kingsley was a smart girl, with both a broad vision and perspective. She had already guessed there was a story between Morgan Ashworth and Willow Crawford, but she didn’t care; those were past matters, unnecessary to be concerned with.

But now, Morgan Ashworth said he had never planned to marry her and never liked her.

Wesley Kingsley’s face turned completely pale, "Since that’s the case, why did you pretend you were going to marry me?"

Morgan Ashworth looked in the direction where Willow Crawford had disappeared, "Because I wanted to see if she truly cared about me."

Turns out, she was just a tool person, used by Morgan Ashworth to provoke Willow Crawford.

Wesley Kingsley had her own pride, she was extremely angry, and immediately raised her hand to give Morgan Ashworth a hard slap.

Slap.

Morgan Ashworth didn’t dodge, enduring the slap solidly.

"Morgan Ashworth, I don’t like you anymore, I hate you!" With that, Wesley Kingsley angrily walked away.

Morgan Ashworth stood still, not moving. He slowly turned his handsome face back, everything he said was true, he didn’t like Wesley Kingsley, nor did he plan to marry her.

At this moment, Eleven walked in, "Master, why did Miss Kingsley just run off, did you argue?"

"I just told her I don’t want to marry her."

"What?"

"My time is already limited, marrying her would just harm her, it’s better to tell her the truth."

"But Willow Crawford walked off with the young master of The Western Reaches. We have the heart pill, Master, you could live a few more years, we can still slowly think of a solution. Actually speaking, Master, you’ve never forgotten Willow Crawford, besides her, you don’t want to marry anyone else, nor do you want to have children with anyone."

Morgan Ashworth pressed his thin lips, "You may leave."

Eleven left.

Now in the dead of night, Morgan Ashworth opened a drawer, quietly lying inside was something, a ring made of foxtail grass.

The foxtail grass ring he had given Willow Crawford five years ago.

Five years ago, Willow Crawford threw this ring on the ground like garbage, but he picked it up; even when he fell, he tightly clutched the ring in his palm, unwilling to let it go.

In fact, anyone could see through his thoughts; Wesley Kingsley, and Eleven, including the Elders, the whole world knew he loved her.

Now, she was gone.

Going round and round, nothing changed, he was still abandoned and ended up alone, stupidly standing in the same spot.

Morgan Ashworth lay on the bed and gently closed his eyes.

...

Morgan Ashworth fell asleep and had a dream, a very chaotic dream, switching through countless scenes.

In a daze, he heard a "knock knock" at the door, the knocking was urgent.

Knock knock, the person was still knocking, as if they would keep knocking if he didn’t open the door.

Morgan Ashworth suddenly opened his eyes and woke up.

Knock knock knock.

The knocking sound from outside the door clearly conveyed to his ears, it wasn’t a dream, it was real.

Someone outside was persistently knocking on the door.

Morgan Ashworth tossed off the quilt and got out of bed, opening the bedroom door.

Outside the door stood a delicate silhouette, it was... Willow Crawford!

Willow Crawford had returned.

Morgan Ashworth’s pupils slightly contracted, he couldn’t believe the person who had walked off with the young master of The Western Reaches had actually come back, she had just abruptly entered his line of sight.

At this moment, Eleven hurried over, "Master..."

Looking at Willow Crawford standing at Morgan Ashworth’s door, Eleven suddenly didn’t know what to say.

Morgan Ashworth glanced faintly at Eleven, then turned his eyes to Willow Crawford, "Didn’t you leave with the young master of The Western Reaches? Why have you returned?"

Outside it was raining, an autumn rain signaling a chill, Willow Crawford’s shoulders were soaked with the dew of late night, looking like she had rushed back after a dusty journey. She looked at Morgan Ashworth’s indifferent appearance and curled her fingers slightly, "I... I suddenly remembered I left something here, I want to retrieve what’s mine."

"Where is the thing?"

"In my room."

"Then go find it now."

"Alright." Willow Crawford returned to her room.

Morgan Ashworth followed suit, trailing behind Willow Crawford.

"Master!" Eleven called softly, "Willow Crawford came back halfway, the young master of The Western Reaches also returned, that heart pill hasn’t yet been acquired..."

Morgan Ashworth seemed not to hear, he followed Willow Crawford into the room, and closed the door behind them.

Left outside, Eleven silently muttered, "..."

Truly, heroes are slain by beauty, beauty leads countries astray!

...

Willow Crawford entered the room, hearing Morgan Ashworth following and the door "snap" shut, now it was just her and him in the room.

"Where’s the thing, hurry and find it." He spoke behind her.

Willow Crawford quickly bent down and rummaged through boxes, muttering to herself, "I remember I put it here, why... it’s missing... where did I put it..."

Willow Crawford was staying in a maid’s room, the room was small and had nowhere to hide anything, claiming she couldn’t find the thing was indeed somewhat self-deceptive. To mask her tension and embarrassment, Willow Crawford raised a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

Ha.

Just then, Morgan Ashworth’s low chuckle sounded in her ear, with unclear meaning, like a mocking sneer.

Willow Crawford looked up at him, only to see Morgan Ashworth standing tall at the door, leaning lazily against the door frame, looking at her condescendingly, composed and calm. Clearly, he had seen through her, but strangely didn’t expose her and wanted to see what she was up to.

Willow Crawford’s pretty face instantly flushed bright red, biting her lip tightly; she decided resolutely and walked toward him, "My thing is missing, I suspect someone took it."

Morgan Ashworth raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Then who do you suspect took it?"

"This is your territory, I suspect... you took it!"

"Then you need to tell me exactly what you lost?"

Willow Crawford stopped in front of him, "I lost my... heart."

She lost her heart.

Lost it here with him.

Morgan Ashworth’s eyes darkened as he looked at her, he didn’t speak again.

Willow Crawford didn’t know what he was thinking, indeed, her own mind was in turmoil, a chaotic mess, thumping wildly.

She had returned; when the luxury car had driven halfway, she suddenly asked to stop, then opened the door and ran back.

She didn’t know what happened to her, but just thinking about never seeing Morgan Ashworth again made her empty to the point of being unbearable.

She had lost him once.

She couldn’t bear a second loss.

So, she came back.

Willow Crawford reached out with her small hand to grip the shirt at his trim waist, then tiptoed to kiss his thin lips.