Chapter 6

Clara didn't go to school today—she'd taken the day off.

She was planning to finally check out what her so-called fiancé looked like.

Just before heading out, her phone rang. It was her master.

"Master!" Clara's voice choked a little, her eyes suddenly wet.

After living another life, hearing a familiar voice like this hit different. No one else would get it.

"Clara, you're okay now, aren't you?"

"I'm fine, Master!" Clara was a bit confused by the question.

"I called because there's something I need you to do."

"Just say the word!" Anything her master asked, she wouldn't hesitate.

"I need you to find someone—his name is Nicholas Evans. Help him. He needs saving."

Clara frowned. "Who's Nicholas?"

"You'll figure it out. That man is really important to you. You owe him a lot."

Clara was even more puzzled. When had someone like that ever helped her?

Her master explained, "Clara, I know you've been reborn. You came back from the edge of death. And it's because of him. You wouldn't be here otherwise."

Her heart practically stopped.

He even knew about her rebirth?

"Master... what's going on?"

"I'll explain when I see you. For now, just do what I asked."

"Alright, I got it."

After hanging up, Clara couldn't stop overthinking.

She thought she was the only one who knew she'd come back. But her master knew all of it like it was nothing.

This... this really didn't add up.

Guess she'd have to meet him and figure it out herself sometime.

"Clara, weren't we heading out to see your fiancé? Let's go!" Nancy reminded her.

"Yeah, okay." Clara left with her mom.

The whole walk, Nancy kept rambling.

"Poor Nicholas. Full-body paralysis, even worse than your dad's case. What a shame. He used to be some rich young master, but now look at him..."

"Wait a sec, Mom—what did you say his name was again?" Clara zeroed in on something.

"Nicholas. From the Evans family."

Clara: "..."

Nicholas. The same guy her master told her to find.

He supposedly did a lot for her somehow—but from her last life, she didn't even know him!

What the hell was going on?

Her fiancé and the person she was told to save—they were the same man?

Is this what people meant by fate?

"Clara? Are you okay?" Nancy looked at her, a little worried.

"I'm fine, Mom. Let's just hurry up, okay? How much farther?"

"Not far now. The village isn't big—basically just from one end to the other..."

...

"Water... get me some water!"

Inside the rundown house, a man lifted his gaze weakly toward the older lady nearby.

The woman had a mean look on her face but turned to get the water anyway, muttering as she went.

"Seriously, what kind of terrible luck did I have to end up taking care of you? You just lie there all day doing nothing! Can't you eat and drink less or something? It stinks in here!"

She brought back the glass but didn't help him drink.

She just poured it in front of his face, expecting him to catch it himself.

Nicholas barely got a sip. The rest splashed on his face and soaked the blanket.

"You... how dare you..." His voice shook with anger.

He tried to clench his fists, but his hands wouldn't move.

He was like a breathing corpse—completely powerless.

"Hah! What, you think I'd be scared? Be grateful I even gave you a sip of water. Still dreaming you're some big-shot young master? You're not even worth a stray dog now!" the lady snapped with obvious disdain.

"Get out! Leave! Get the hell out!" Nicholas screamed like he'd lost it.

The lady snorted, not fazed one bit.

"Tch, if it weren't for the nice paycheck, do you really think I'd be wiping your butt every day? I wouldn't even step foot in here. Damn cripple."

Just as she stepped out, she ran into Clara and her mother.

"Who are you here for?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Nancy smiled politely. "Hi, we're here to see Mr. Evans."

That half-dead man still had visitors? The woman found it hard to believe. She'd been caring for him for a whole year, and no one had ever come looking.

"And who might you be? Why are you looking for him?" she asked, more cautious now.

"My daughter is his fiancée. We're just here to check on him," Nancy replied.

The woman had heard of an engagement before—but looking at the girl now, she thought what a pity. That's her fiancé?

"Whatever, go on in," she said indifferently.

As soon as they stepped inside, a strong stench hit them—so pungent it was hard to breathe.

Nancy instinctively covered her nose. "Why on earth does it smell so bad?"

Her own husband was paralyzed too, but she always kept him clean. Their house never reeked like this.

"Leave! Didn't I tell you to get lost!" Nicholas roared from inside, assuming the woman had returned.

The outburst made Nancy jump. "Goodness! That temper of his... it's something else..."

Clara, on the other hand, stayed calm. She walked over and glanced at the man on the bed.

His cheeks were gaunt, and his messy hair covered most of his eyes, but his jawline was still sharp and defined. The shape of his lips looked as if they had been carefully sculpted.

He stood in stark contrast to the filthy room, like a noble duke trapped in a pile of ruins.

The moment he saw Clara and the others, his gaze immediately turned sharp.

“Are you Nicholas?” Clara frowned. She couldn’t imagine the powerful Evans family treating their own son so cruelly.

“And who are you? What are you doing here?” Nicholas said coldly.

Nancy quickly stepped forward. “Mr. Evans, this is my daughter, Clara—your fiancée.”

“Bullshit!” Nicholas growled. “I met your daughter before. She didn’t look like this!”

A year ago, Rachel had secretly come to see him. After one glance, she cursed at him viciously—mocking his condition, telling him to hurry up and die, even calling him a crippled piece of trash who still dreamed of getting married.

He still remembered everything that happened that day clearly.

That vicious woman was definitely not the same person as the girl standing before him now.

“It’s a long story,” Nancy sighed. “There was a mistake at birth. Rachel is actually someone else’s daughter. Clara is our biological daughter—she’s the one truly engaged to you.”

Nicholas fell silent.

He didn’t care about this ridiculous explanation.

“Fine. Let’s get to the point. Why are you here? To persuade me to cancel the engagement? To tell me to stop having unrealistic fantasies?”

Clara looked straight at him and said calmly, “I’m here to help you.”

“Don’t joke with me!” Nicholas roared. “No one wants to marry a cripple—”

Before he could react, Clara pulled off his blanket.

“What are you doing?!” he shouted.

“Helping you,” Clara said calmly. “Otherwise, how can I know what’s wrong with you?”