Free Web NovelChapter 366: Chapter 364: Choosing a Gift for a Love Rival
Carla Sinclair was taken aback and quickly said no.
"But isn’t he a doctor?"
"He’s a cardiothoracic surgeon, though."
Mia Grant pouted. "I sent it. He said it was fine, too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have let me be discharged."
On the other end of the line, Carla Sinclair pulled the phone away from her ear, glanced at the message, and immediately sent the picture to their family doctor.
Then she resumed her conversation with Mia Grant. "The security footage only covers the last seven days. I checked it. That flowerpot was already there a week ago."
"Hmm, a teacher probably put it there."
Mia Grant wasn’t too concerned.
"So you figured out it was an accident?"
"I wasn’t sure at first, but since so much time has passed without you all taking any action, I figured it must have been an accident." Mia Grant sighed. "A fortune-telling master told me I’d face a disaster involving bloodshed soon, so I’ve been extremely careful. I guess you just can’t guard against everything."
"Don’t worry too much about it. I’ll go to the Celestial Empress Temple to pray for you soon."
Mia Grant had heard of the Celestial Empress Temple in Portia. She took a sip of her juice and asked nonchalantly, "What are the prayers there most effective for? Maybe I should go myself."
On the other end, Carla Sinclair thought for a moment. "The most effective... would be praying for a child."
"Pfft..."
Mia Grant completely abandoned the idea.
"By the way, Father is worried about you. He wants to come visit."
"Don’t." Mia Grant quickly refused. "I have something to take care of in Portia next week, so I’ll swing by home then."
Carla Sinclair wanted to ask what was so important that she would make a special trip back, but she held her tongue.
"Alright. Just let me know beforehand, and I’ll have the kitchen staff prepare."
"Mm-hmm," Mia Grant agreed.
—
When Mia Grant said she had business in Portia, she wasn’t lying.
The last time she was discharged from the hospital, Silas Grant had mentioned that his birthday was fast approaching.
Opening her calendar, Mia Grant scrolled down. She had put a special mark on next Tuesday.
Last time, he’d said that the only birthday gift he wanted was for her to see a doctor.
’I’ve already seen the doctor, but I should still prepare a gift.’
’Those are two separate things.’
Silas Grant had been very generous to her on her birthday. She had to return the gesture.
The original novel mentioned that Silas Grant had stopped celebrating his birthday after he came of age.
It was mainly because no one around him really cared about his birthday.
’I remember it clearly.’
That was why she had been so surprised when, not long after she’d transmigrated into the book, Silas Grant had flown to Jynsia on the pretext of his birthday.
She couldn’t remember what she had done to anger Yuna Hughes that day, only that she had stood to the side with her head bowed, enduring the scolding. Yuna Hughes’s voice was shrill, and her words were vile.
Fortunately, she was already numb to it and had braced herself for a beating.
However, because of Silas Grant’s arrival, Yuna Hughes never laid a hand on her. She quickly became absorbed in the joy of his birthday and forgot all about tormenting Mia.
His arrival was so sudden that she hadn’t prepared a birthday gift.
Yuna Hughes, on the other hand, had shoved a gift into Serena Grant’s hands, telling her to use it to curry favor with Silas Grant.
She had felt awkward at the time, but she quickly got over it.
’He probably wouldn’t care whether his fake sister got him a gift or not, anyway.’
’It’s not like he’s lacking for anything, is it?’
But who would have known that after the dinner party, he would corner her at a bend in the second-floor hallway as she was trying to slip away? "Has our dear Mia not prepared a gift for her big brother?"
"..."
Their eyes met. A flicker of guilt crossed her face, and she twisted her fingers together behind her back. After a moment’s thought, she decided to tell the truth. "I’ve been busy studying for my college entrance exams, so I didn’t know it was your birthday."
"I’m sorry."
"Well, you know now, don’t you?"
His words sounded vaguely threatening at first, but his eyes crinkled into a smile, making him look like a well-fed fox. He seemed to be merely teasing, with no intention of making things difficult for her.
Snapping out of her daze, she nodded. "Next time... next time, I’ll definitely remember to prepare a gift."
A soft laugh came from above her, and then he caught one of the wrists she had hidden behind her back.
She froze, staring at him in a daze.
"Come with me."
He was like a refined gentleman, holding her wrist loosely with just two or three fingers.
’I could have pulled away,’ she thought, but she followed him anyway.
Inside the dim room, the man fumbled for the light switch.
She could tell he didn’t stay here often.
In the end, she was the one who walked over to the wall and flipped the switch.
As the lights flickered on, the man squinted uncomfortably before taking off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.
He had drunk a lot that night.
Perhaps because he rarely returned to Jynsia, or maybe because he hadn’t celebrated his birthday in ages, a great many guests had shown up that evening.
He was being gracious to everyone, accepting toasts from nearly all who offered.
Sensing his discomfort, she stepped forward to steady his arm.
The man’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he flinched instinctively when her fingers touched his cool skin.
"It’s fine, I’m okay." He patted her shoulder reassuringly, then gestured with his chin. "Go on, see if there’s anything you like."
She followed his gaze and saw a mountain of gifts piled beside the sofa.
They were all from the guests; the servants had to make several trips to bring them all upstairs.
’I have to admit,’ she thought, ’those guests really were trying their hardest to get on his good side.’
After a quick glance at the gift manifest on the table, she couldn’t help but gasp.
"See anything you like?" Seeing her standing frozen, he leaned in from behind her, his arms loosely encircling her as he picked up the list and spread it out in front of her.
In the end, he picked a few items from the list and insisted she take them.
He said he had no use for any of them; they would just end up collecting dust in a storage room. He insisted that letting him keep them would be a terrible waste.
She didn’t stand on ceremony. She later resold them all and deposited the money into the slush fund she was building for her escape.
’Thinking back on it now, Silas Grant’s contribution to her saving up money so quickly was undeniable.’
This time, however, Mia Grant was stumped on what gift to choose.
Having seen firsthand the kinds of gifts those people gave him, she knew just how picky Silas Grant could be.
Just then, a call from Yates Donovan came right on time.
As Silas Grant’s former best friend, she figured Yates Donovan might be able to help.
"A gift?" Yates Donovan clicked his tongue. "Baby, you really overestimate me."
"I’m not magnanimous enough to be picking out gifts for your little boyfriends on the side."
"Alright, then." Mia Grant didn’t press him, replying considerately, "I’ll go ask someone else."
"...Wait. I was just venting; I never said I wouldn’t help." Yates Donovan stopped her. "What’s your budget?"
Mia Grant recalled her card balance and figured the odd amount on top of the round number would be enough.
"Under a million."
"Damn, you’re pretty generous with him."
"It’s mainly because you sent me too much money last time. I’m a bit obsessive—I like round numbers, so I have to spend the change."
After a long silence, he finally spoke. "Oh. So you’re telling me that I’m the one paying for my rival’s gift."
"You gave it to me willingly. Once it’s mine, it’s mine to spend, isn’t it?"
Mia Grant said, full of righteous confidence.
Yates Donovan laughed. "Fine, fine. In that case, get him a watch."
"He’s getting on in years, after all. It’s a milestone birthday for him."
As the old saying goes: no wood for newlyweds, and no clocks for birthdays.
Gifting a clock was a thinly veiled death-wish. His intentions were perfectly clear.
