Chapter 4 The Bride Price

• Had she not offended Ethan with nothing more than a mere coin, referring to him disdainfully as a duck, she might have still had a chance to appeal for assistance. Yet, the sting of their last bitter encounter had drained her of the resolve necessary to ask for anything at all.
• The next morning, her friend's voice echoed in her ears, "That electric scooter was purchased with a month's hard-earned wages. Can you truly bear to see it discarded?" The very thought of parting with it was unbearable.
• Determined, Ophelia retraced her steps to the villa from the previous day. With a twinge of dread that she might be ensnared by the grandmother's presence and unable to leave, she lingered by the gate, her nerves frayed.
• Meanwhile, Ethan received a disconcerting call from his secretary, who reported that the surveillance footage from the previous night had been destroyed, leaving them unable to identify who had entered his room. Ethan's expression hardened into a frigid mask of displeasure as he directed the secretary to intensify the investigation.
• His thoughts were devoid of sentiment for the woman of the previous night; his only aim was to make recompense for her efforts. He visualized her slender form, and his Adam's apple bobbed with a contemplative shift.
• Taking responsibility was not beyond his consideration. As his car glided out of the villa's gates, a figure suddenly darted across his path. He slammed on the brakes, his irritation simmering visibly as he cast a sharp glare at the individual who had appeared before his vehicle.
• Ophelia jolted but otherwise unharmed, had originally intended to flag down a passing car by the roadside. However, a misplaced step over a stone nearly led her to a disastrous fate had it not been for the car's timely halt.
• Ethan, rolling down the window, cast her a chilling stare. "Are you attempting to deceive me by lying in front of my car this early in the morning?"
• Ophelia scrambled to her feet and shot him a defiant look. "I'm not scamming anyone. It was an accident."
• Uninterested in her protests, Ethan began to pull away, only to have Ophelia block his path once more.
• "My electric scooter was stolen yesterday," she said, her voice edged with desperation.
• Ethan raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in his gaze. "And?"
• "It was stolen because you kept me with your grandmother, so you owe me compensation," Ophelia declared, summoning her courage and speaking in a single breath.
• Ethan's gaze remained penetrating as he scrutinized her through the car window. Her loose clothing concealed her figure, and the heavy black glasses and disheveled bangs obscured most of her face. Her hair, though black and lustrous, was carelessly tied back, lending her a somewhat bedraggled appearance.
• This plain woman had dared to insult him with nothing but a single coin yesterday, and now she had the audacity to demand money from him. Did she possess the audacity of a lion?
• Feeling the intensity of his disdain, Ophelia began to regret her impromptu visit. Yet, faced with the prospect of incurring another substantial expense to replace the scooter, she had no choice but to stand firm.
• "An electric scooter may be insignificant to you, perhaps worth less than a single wheel on your car, but it is of great importance to me. Mr. Moore, you wouldn't shirk your responsibility, would you?"
• It was unprecedented for someone to confront Ethan directly, accusing him of evading responsibility. However, the more she persisted, the more his disinterest seemed to grow.
• With a final, dismissive press of the gas pedal, Ethan drove away. Ophelia, initially expecting a straightforward financial concession, was instead met with cold neglect. Frustration bubbled within her, and she stomped her foot in anger at the departing vehicle.
• Just as her hopes faltered, the car reversed and halted beside her. Her heart leaped, anticipating Ethan's return with an offer of money. Yet, Ethan merely leaned out of the window to deliver a scathing remark, "It's not just one wheel; it's not even worth a single screw on my car."
• With that, he accelerated, leaving a cloud of exhaust in his wake. Ophelia, seething with indignation, glared at the vanishing vehicle.
• "Capitalist vampire," she muttered, her frustration palpable as she watched him disappear from view.
• As Ophelia prepared to depart, a jubilant voice rang out, piercing the quiet of the morning.
• "Ophelia!"
• Turning, Ophelia saw Sophia and Roxie approaching, their faces aglow with delight.
• "Are you here to see me?" Sophia inquired with a warm smile.
• "No," Ophelia hurriedly explained, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. "My electric scooter was stolen, and I came to see if you might help me cover half the cost. I really need it for my part-time job."
• Despite her readiness to confront Ethan, the thought of speaking so directly to Sophia left her feeling somewhat bashful.
• Sophia, her eyes soft with concern, asked gently, "Are you in urgent need of money?"
• Ophelia bit her lip and nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of her predicament. If she had the means to purchase a new scooter, she wouldn't have sought assistance.
• Without a moment's hesitation, Sophia summoned the butler, who emerged with a check in hand. The check was thick and heavy, its numbers shimmering with promise.
• "Here, take this," Sophia said, extending the check toward Ophelia.
• Ophelia's eyes widened as she glanced at the check, the sum of its many zeros striking her with overwhelming force. She quickly pushed it back.
• "Grandma, this is ten million. The scooter only costs three thousand. It's far too much. I can't accept this."
• Sophia, with a firm grip, pressed the check into Ophelia's hands. "Take it. This is your bride price."
• Ophelia, stunned, felt the weight of the check burn her palm. She attempted to return it with urgency.
• "Grandma, I can't accept this money."
• "I have no intention of marrying that ill-tempered grandson of mine. It's impossible for us to be together in this lifetime," Sophia declared with a dismissive wave of her hand.
• Ophelia stammered, "Grandma, if you insist, I'll just go."
• Hearing that Ophelia wished to leave, the old lady's anxiety spiked. Ophelia was the kindest and most nurturing of all the people she had encountered, and Sophia could not bear to drive her away.
• "Fine, I won't force you to take the check, but stay here."
• With a sigh of relief, Ophelia accepted the ten-million-dollar check. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on her. Yesterday had presented her with a cold and frugal Ethan, while today brought forth an unexpectedly generous Sophia.
• Impressed by Ophelia's unselfishness, Sophia's regard for her deepened. "Ophelia, since you're in need of a part-time job, why not assist me with the garden? I'll pay you for your time."
• "Sophia, that really isn't necessary," Ophelia protested, though she knew the money would not come today.
• "Are you busy today?" Sophia asked, her eyes twinkling with hope.
• "Not particularly..." Ophelia began, only to be interrupted by Sophia's warm hand taking hers.
• "Then it's settled. Do you dislike my old age? Are you tired of me?" Sophia inquired with a touch of sadness in her voice.
• "Of course not. I love being with you," Ophelia replied, her sentiment genuine. Sophia's kindness, humor, and thoughtfulness had touched her deeply.
• "In that case, stay with me. When my grandson arrives, I'll have him transfer the money for the scooter to you. It will make your visit worthwhile."
• Given Sophia's insistence, Ophelia couldn't refuse. "I'll help with the garden, but you don't need to pay me."
• Ophelia's initial attempt at garden maintenance was awkward and uncertain. She followed the existing design but added a personal touch that was all her own.
• After her work was done, Sophia presented her with a hundred-dollar bill as a token of appreciation. Ophelia, though hesitant, accepted the money with grace.
• As noon approached, Ophelia prepared to leave. However, Sophia, now reclining weakly on the couch, lamented, "The hot weather makes it hard to eat anything. I feel so uncomfortable."
• With Sophia's energy waning, the butler buzzed about in anxious concern. Ophelia, unable to leave, took it upon herself to serve tea and water.
• "Ophelia, I'd love to have some of that shrimp bread you made yesterday. Could you prepare another batch for me?" Sophia requested, her eyes hopeful as she grasped Ophelia's hand.
• "Please wait. I'll make it right away," Ophelia promised, her heart warmed by the old lady's request.
• As Ophelia busied herself in the kitchen, Sophia, with a twinkle in her eye, instructed the butler, "Quickly call Ethan and tell him to return early this afternoon. Otherwise, I might not be able to keep this future daughter-in-law."
• The butler, eager to comply, nodded vigorously.
• Ophelia spent nearly the entire day at the Shen house. Each time she attempted to leave, Sophia contrived a new reason to keep her, even feigning faintness on the couch.
• "Grandma, you're really fine. You just don't want me to leave, do you?" Ophelia said with a hint of helplessness.
• Caught in her own act, Sophia only smiled, her expression not one of anger but of affectionate mischief.
• "Good child, my grandson is handsome and successful. You won't regret marrying him."
• Ophelia felt a peculiar unease at Sophia's repeated assurances, as if she were being sold a less-than-desirable product.
• She pondered the situation and spoke her mind.
• "Who do you think is a less desirable product?" came a deep, resonant voice from the doorway.