Chapter 1

In the empty villa, Celia Quinn sat motionless on the sofa. It wasn't until much later that the villa's front door swung open, and Lucas Shaw stepped inside. His gaze paused briefly on her, then his expression turned cold.

"Yvonne is running a fever today. Why did you keep calling me?"

Chapter 1

In the empty villa, Celia Quinn sat motionless on the sofa. It wasn't until much later that the villa's front door swung open, and Lucas Shaw stepped inside. His gaze paused briefly on her, then his expression turned cold.

"Yvonne is running a fever today. Why did you keep calling me?"

Celia rose to her feet, her head still lowered, remaining silent. She didn’t respond, and Lucas didn’t leave either. After a while, she finally spoke in a low voice, “I needed to talk to you earlier.”

“What for? You’re standing here perfectly fine. What could possibly be so urgent?”

Her explanation failed to earn his understanding.

Instead, his tone grew colder. “Didn’t I tell you Yvonne isn’t feeling well and that I’d be with her all day? What’s the point of you doing this on purpose? Celia, I’ve told you before not to harbor those improper thoughts about me. I’m your uncle—it’s impossible! If you pull something like this again, you’ll have to move out.”

With that, Lucas went straight upstairs, slamming the door behind him as he entered his room.

Downstairs, Celia remained standing, quietly watching his retreating figure.

After a moment, she softly murmured, “Uncle, I’m sorry. There won’t be a next time. Because... I’m already dead.”

Her voice was barely audible, and Lucas, already upstairs, didn’t hear her words.

Celia didn’t seem to care.

She sat back on the sofa, lost in thought, memories surfacing uncontrollably.

Lucas wasn’t her biological uncle but a close friend of her father’s.

From a young age, she had loved clinging to him, calling him “Brother.”

Every time, Lucas would patiently correct her.

“Not brother, call me Uncle.”

The year she finally switched to calling him “Uncle” was when she was eight. Her parents were killed in a tragic car accident, leaving her orphaned.

Lucas took her in and brought her to his home.

She became the cherished bloom in his life, showered with his undivided care and devotion.

When she first arrived at the Shaw residence, being in an unfamiliar place left her anxious and sleepless night after night. Lucas would juggle his demanding work schedule while patiently staying up to coax her to sleep.

Her frail health had plagued her since childhood, her life sustained by constant medication. When she turned twelve, the rest of the Shaw family, unhappy with Lucas for raising what they called a “draining burden,” insisted he send her away.

Lucas refused. He was willing to leave the Shaw family estate and set up his own home just to keep her with him.

Later, Lucas singlehandedly founded SQ Corporation, building it into a company rivaling the Shaw Group’s stature. Only then did relations between Lucas and the rest of the Shaw family begin to ease.

When she was fifteen, Celia joined a school-organized field trip, only to encounter a sudden landslide that nearly claimed her life. In her most desperate moment, Lucas risked everything, venturing deep into the treacherous mountains to rescue her.

From a young age, whatever she wanted—no matter how outlandish, even the stars in the sky—Lucas would agree without hesitation to fetch them for her.

But the memory that left the deepest impression on Celia was from the year her parents had just passed away. Her body was exceptionally frail, and one time, she fell seriously ill with a high fever, remaining unconscious for three days in the hospital.

When she woke up, fear overwhelmed her.

She clung to Lucas, crying so hard she could barely breathe, her voice trembling as she asked, “Uncle, am I going to die?”

At that time, he said, “Celia, as long as I’m here, no one can take you away from me. Not even the King of the Underworld himself—if he tries, I’ll snatch you back.”

He made that promise with unwavering conviction, and for the next ten years, he truly protected her, from the age of eight to eighteen. No matter how difficult things became, he never once considered giving up on her.

But today, when a burglar broke into the house and stabbed her over a dozen times, Celia called him repeatedly, only for him to reject every single call to care for Yvonne Jones, who had a fever.

Yvonne had entered their lives three months earlier.

On the night it happened, Celia had stolen a kiss while Lucas was asleep.

He woke up unexpectedly, his expression cold as he demanded to know what she was doing.

When he caught her in the act, Celia decided to confess her feelings boldly.

But all she received in return was his outright rejection, his gaze filled with disbelief and disapproval.

To make her give up entirely, he began going on frequent blind dates.

Finally, he brought Yvonne, a woman who seemed perfect in every way, into their lives and flaunted their intimacy before her daily.

When Celia died, she had made countless phone calls to him.

Yvonne had even answered one. But just as Celia was about to plead for help, Yvonne’s voice interrupted her from the other end.

“Celia, is something wrong? Lucas is making oatmeal for me right now and doesn’t have time to answer your call.”

Before Celia could respond, Yvonne hung up.

At that moment, as the call disconnected, Celia took her last breath. Even after death, her soul lingered, consumed by an unyielding fixation. The anomaly did not escape the King of the Underworld’s notice, and he sought her out. It was then she struck a deal with him.

In exchange for her soul being obliterated and barred from reincarnation forever, she bargained for seven days to return to the mortal world and settle her affairs.

Celia walked to the calendar hanging on the wall. If Lucas had been observant, he would have noticed this calendar only had seven days.

She tore off a page, her voice soft as she murmured, “Uncle, today marks the first day of my farewell to you.”

Chapter 2

The next morning, Celia rose early and left the house to settle her affairs.

Her death had been abrupt, and it wasn’t until last night, after hours of searching online, that she realized how many loose ends needed tying up.

But now that Lucas had someone he wanted to build a new family with, as his adopted daughter, she felt like nothing more than a burden. She didn’t want to leave him with the trouble of dealing with her aftermath.

At the registry office, when she explained that she wanted to terminate her own records, the clerk was incredulous and confirmed with her repeatedly.

“Miss, a record can only be terminated when someone passes away. Are you sure about this?”

Celia forced a wry smile and nodded. “I’ll be gone from this world in six days.”

Hearing this, the clerk assumed she had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. They gave her a look of pity, then glanced at her file and shook their head regretfully.

She was only eighteen.

The clerk didn’t press further and proceeded with her request.

After canceling her records, Celia arranged for a memorial portrait, purchased a casket, and even picked out a funeral outfit for herself. At each stop, she encountered curious or pitying looks, but she paid them no mind.

Her only thought was to ensure everything was arranged perfectly, so Lucas wouldn’t have to trouble himself with any of it later.

By the time she returned home, it was already evening. As she stepped through the door, she spotted Yvonne in the kitchen, wearing an apron and busying herself with dinner preparations.

Yvonne greeted her warmly as she walked in. “Celia, you’re back! I cooked tonight and was waiting for you to eat together.”

Noticing the bags in Celia’s hand, Yvonne’s curiosity piqued. “What did you buy?”

Celia shook her head without answering and headed upstairs to put her things away. Once everything was stored, she came back down and joined Yvonne in the kitchen.

“Let me help you.”

The two worked together in the kitchen for a while, chatting pleasantly. When Lucas returned, the villa was peaceful. There were no arguments or tense silences, only a surprisingly harmonious atmosphere.

Seeing this, Lucas couldn’t hide his astonishment. He knew Celia’s feelings for him all too well—her emotions were always written plainly on her face. In the past, she would never have gotten along with Yvonne so amicably.

Now, dinner was ready, and the three of them sat down at the dining table. They began their meal together in an unexpectedly calm and cordial manner.

During dinner, Yvonne remained exceptionally warm and attentive, frequently adding food to Celia’s plate.

“Celia, try this shrimp. It’s especially tender. I made it just for you.”

As her plate piled high with food, Celia hesitated. Though she now had a physical form, she was, after all, no longer among the living.

When she struck her deal with the King of the Underworld, he explicitly told her that during these seven days, while she could remain in the mortal world, she was forbidden from consuming human food.

Her hesitation was obvious, and she continued to avoid eating the dishes Yvonne served her.

Seeing this, Lucas noticed Yvonne’s growing awkwardness. His gaze hardened as he shot Celia a warning look.

“Yvonne made this for you. Eat it,” he ordered, his tone sharp and commanding.

Celia stayed silent but eventually picked up her plate, forcing herself to eat the food in front of her.

The moment the food slid down her throat, a searing pain erupted in her stomach as if her insides were being scorched by fire. Unable to endure it, she bolted for the bathroom, retching violently until the pain subsided slightly.

The sudden commotion left Yvonne teary-eyed, her voice tinged with grievance as she turned to Lucas. “Does Celia not like me?”

At her words, Lucas’s expression darkened. He patted Yvonne’s hand in reassurance. “Of course she likes you. Let me check on her.”

He stood and followed after Celia.

In the bathroom, Celia leaned against the sink, the pain in her stomach gradually easing. She glanced at her pale reflection in the mirror and exhaled softly.

It seemed her condition wouldn’t allow this after all. Perhaps she should find an excuse to leave the table soon.

With that thought, she turned and opened the bathroom door, only to find Lucas standing outside, his expression stormy.

Celia froze, assuming he was there out of concern. Gathering herself, she spoke up. “Uncle, I’m not feeling well. You should go back and finish dinner. I’ll just head upstairs to rest.”

She expected him to return to Yvonne after her explanation.

Instead, his face darkened further, and when he finally spoke, his words left her stunned.

“When I saw you and Yvonne getting along earlier, I thought you’d finally learned to behave. But it turns out you’re still up to your old tricks—throwing tantrums just to embarrass her.”

“Uncle, I wasn’t…” Her face grew even paler, a sharp ache spreading through her chest. She forced a faint smile, trying to explain herself, but he coldly interrupted her before she could finish.

“I don’t care what your excuse is. You’ll go back and finish that meal.”

Chapter 3

Without another word, Lucas grabbed Celia’s arm and dragged her back to the dining table, firmly seating her in a chair before returning to Yvonne’s side.

Celia glanced up at him, watching as he tenderly soothed Yvonne. When he noticed her gaze, he turned to glare at her, a silent warning in his eyes.

Swallowing her bitterness, Celia picked up her plate and, despite the searing pain in her stomach, forced herself to eat every bite.

Tears fell silently onto her plate as she lowered her head. Each mouthful felt like swallowing fire, the burning sensation crawling down her throat and mingling with the salty sting of her tears. She couldn’t tell which hurt more—her stomach or her heart.

The meal dragged on in strained silence, with Celia enduring her agony while Lucas and Yvonne shared their intimate exchanges.

Finally, it was over.

Just as Celia set down her utensils, the sound of a car pulling up outside broke the tension.

“That must be my things arriving!” Yvonne exclaimed with a bright smile as she rushed toward the door.

Lucas turned to Celia, his tone flat but firm. “From now on, Yvonne will be living here with us.”

He watched her closely as if expecting an outburst or a refusal. His expression seemed to say he wouldn’t tolerate any objection.

But Celia, who had already cried herself dry earlier, had long since calmed herself down. She nodded calmly. “I understand.”

Her composed reaction took Lucas by surprise, leaving him unsettled. A strange unease crept into his chest, but before he could dwell on it, Yvonne returned, naturally slipping her arm through his.

“Lucas, which room will I be staying in?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Lucas offered her a doting smile. “Let me show you around. You can choose any room you like.”

The three of them went upstairs, accompanying Yvonne as she picked a room. After asking where Lucas’ bedroom was, she walked straight toward the room next to his.

Watching her head toward that direction, Celia felt a sudden sense of foreboding and hurried after her.

When she stepped into the room, she saw Yvonne looking around before heading straight to the wardrobe.

“Lucas, I think this room is perfect. I’ll take it,” Yvonne announced, her hand reaching for the wardrobe door.

Panicked, Celia rushed forward, blocking her movement before she could open it.

“No! This is my room. I won’t allow it.”

Seeing Celia’s intense reaction, Lucas frowned instinctively and scolded her. “What’s with this reckless behavior? If Yvonne likes this room, just let her have it. I’ll have the staff clean out another room for you.”

But no matter what he said, Celia stayed put, her back pressed firmly against the wardrobe, refusing to give in.

Frustration flashed across Lucas’ face as he forced himself to suppress his growing anger. “I swear, I’ve spoiled you so much you’ve forgotten your place!”

The tension between them grew, neither willing to budge until Yvonne finally intervened to diffuse the situation. “It’s alright, Lucas. If Celia doesn’t want to give it up, I’ll just choose another room.”

Lucas glanced at Celia, still stubbornly guarding the wardrobe, and let out a cold laugh, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Fine. If she won’t give it up, then you can just stay with me.”

Hearing that, Yvonne blushed and shyly buried her face against his chest. Without another word, Lucas wrapped an arm around her and led her out of the room.

As they left, Celia caught a glimpse of Yvonne glancing down at her hand, puzzled. “That’s strange. There’s blood on my hand, but I don’t think I’m hurt…”

Moments later, Lucas ordered the staff to move Yvonne’s belongings into his room. The house buzzed with activity as staff members carried luggage back and forth, but Celia paid no attention. Her hands trembled as she quickly shut the wardrobe door again.

Only Celia knew where the blood on Yvonne’s hand had come from— it was from the wardrobe.

Inside the wardrobe was her own lifeless body.

Celia locked the door to her room and pulled out a roll of duct tape, securing the wardrobe tightly shut. The King of the Underworld had warned her: if her body was discovered before her seven days were up, she would vanish prematurely.

Once everything was sealed, she let out a shaky breath and went to the living room to pour herself a glass of water.

On her way back, she passed Lucas’ room. Through the slightly ajar door, she glimpsed Lucas and Yvonne locked in a passionate kiss.

She froze for a moment, her grip tightening around the glass. Closing her eyes, she turned away, unwilling to look any longer.

Walking straight to the calendar on the wall, she tore off another page of the countdown.

Chapter 4

The next morning, Celia woke up early and headed to the dining room, only to notice someone already in the kitchen.

It was Lucas, wearing an apron as he prepared breakfast, with Yvonne wrapped around him from behind. He didn’t push her away.

Instead, he would glance back at her occasionally, his expression soft with affection, even smiling indulgently.

Their intimacy played out clearly before Celia’s eyes, bringing a sudden wave of memories from the past.

Back then, the house was full of staff, but Lucas was always too busy working late into the night and often not coming home. The staff, seeing her as just a helpless child, took advantage of the situation by neglecting their duties, sometimes even withholding her meals.

When Lucas discovered their behavior, he fired every single one of them. Determined to care for her himself, he learned to cook and handled every meal for her, three times a day with no detail overlooked.

But now, she couldn’t let herself love him anymore.

If Yvonne was the one who could bring him happiness, then all she could do was offer them her blessing.

Celia quietly shifted her gaze away, walking once again to the calendar without realizing it.

Yvonne, at some point, had stepped out of the kitchen and noticed the calendar. Her curiosity was piqued, and she suddenly asked, “What’s with this countdown calendar? Why does it only have a few pages?”

Hearing her question, Lucas instinctively looked over, his attention also landing on the calendar.

Seeing both of them focused on it, Celia paused and came up with a quick excuse. “I saw it while out with a friend the other day. I thought it was interesting, so I bought it.”

It was a weak explanation, but Lucas didn’t press further and instead changed the topic. “I’m taking Yvonne out for a date today.”

His words were blunt as if gauging her reaction. He expected her to protest or create a scene, but to his surprise, she simply nodded obediently. “Have fun.”

The lack of a response left Lucas momentarily at a loss. He should’ve been pleased, but as he looked at Celia, a strange heaviness settled in his chest, inexplicably stifling.

The atmosphere grew awkwardly quiet until Yvonne suddenly broke the silence. “If you’re going to be alone here, why not come with us?”

Celia hadn’t expected Yvonne to invite her along, and for a moment, she froze. But she quickly shook her head. “I have plans. I promised to meet up with some friends to say goodbye, so I’ll pass.”

With only half a month left before college started, the gathering was filled with her friends’ excitement for the future. But Celia sat alone on the sidelines, silent and withdrawn.

After all, she only had five days left. Five days before she would vanish completely, leaving no future to dream about.

Noticing her quietness, someone approached her with a teasing grin.

“Celia, you like your uncle, don’t you? Why not make a move before the summer’s over?”

“Exactly! They say it’s hard for a guy to win over a girl, but for a girl, it’s easy as pie. You’re not even blood-related. Why not go for it? Stop being so shy and make your move!”

The mention of Lucas sparked a lively buzz among the group. Ideas flew as they excitedly egged her on, some even joking about taking drastic measures. But Celia simply shook her head, her expression calm.

“No. I can’t and won’t like him anymore.”

The gathering didn’t last long, and when it was time to leave, Celia made her rounds to say goodbye to each of them.

“Lila, congratulations on getting into the school you wanted. I’m sure you’ll have a bright future ahead of you.”

“Sophie, you need to take better care of yourself. You’re always skipping breakfast—you have to start taking your health seriously.”

“Annie, Sarah, I’ll always miss you both.”

One by one, she hugged them, her demeanor serious and sincere. Her unusual solemnity made the others laugh, brushing it off as a quirky show of sentimentality.

“Celia, your goodbye is way too formal, like we’ll never see each other again. Don’t worry, just because we’re going to different colleges doesn’t mean we’ll forget about you.”

After bidding farewell, the group gradually dispersed, leaving Celia as the last to leave.

She watched their retreating figures, a faint sadness welling up in her heart.

No, they would never meet again.

“Goodbye, my friends.”

When Celia returned home, Lucas was already back. The moment she stepped through the door, she saw him sitting on the sofa, his expression dark and stormy.

Her gaze swept the room, but Yvonne was nowhere to be seen. She casually asked, “Where’s Yvonne?”

“She’s on a business trip.”

Accepting his answer without much thought, Celia nodded and was about to head upstairs when Lucas’ cold voice stopped her.

“Hold it!”

She turned to see him pulling out several items, his face etched with displeasure.

“Care to explain these?” he demanded, holding up a collection of things—a receipt of her purchased casket and funeral outfit.

Chapter 5

When Celia saw the items on the floor, her heart skipped a beat.

She had hidden them so carefully—how had Lucas found them?

For a moment, panic flickered across her face. It took her a moment to collect herself before she stammered, “Tomorrow is the anniversary of my parents’ passing. I bought these as a way to honor their memory.”

Hearing her response, Lucas hesitated, the odd tension in his chest easing slightly. After a moment, he said, “I’ll go with you to visit them tomorrow.”

“There’s no need, Uncle,” she replied quickly, shaking her head. “You should focus on spending time with Yvonne and handling work. I’ve caused you enough trouble in the past. I won’t be a burden to you anymore.”

Lucas had been prepared for her to accept his offer with gratitude, but her unexpected refusal left him stunned. Shock flickered in his eyes as Celia turned and left without giving him a chance to respond.

Once back in her room, she silently tore another page from the calendar, shredding the piece into tiny fragments and tossing them into the trash.

Only four days left.

As Lucas watched her retreating figure, her words echoed in his mind. Before he could stop himself, he murmured, “You were never a burden to me, Celia.”

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and by the time he spoke, Celia was already in her room, unable to hear his words.

On the fourth day of her countdown, Celia visited her parents’ grave alone. She walked to their headstone, gently placing a bouquet of flowers in front of it. Her gaze lingered on their photographs engraved on the stone—familiar, gentle smiles that seemed frozen in time.

Sitting down between the two graves, she let herself imagine she was once again nestled between them, just as she had been as a child.

“Mom, Dad,” she began softly, “I don’t know if you’ve already reincarnated by now. Please don’t be angry at me for being selfish—trading my soul for seven days just to settle things.

“For so long, I envied others for having parents who loved them, but not anymore. I had Uncle Lucas. He cared for me, protected me, and gave me all the love in the world. And I—I fell in love with him, despite everything.

“But now, I see that my existence has only ever been a burden to him. He’ll have a new family someday, and I’ll always be the outsider. From the beginning to the end, I am destined to be alone.

“Life here... it’s not so good. I’ve decided that I won’t come back in my next life. I don’t regret my choice, but it’s a little sad. I never got to experience what it’s like to truly be loved before I died.”

Celia stayed at the cemetery, talking to her parents for a long time. When she finally finished, she didn’t leave immediately. Instead, she found the cemetery’s caretaker.

After some discussion, Celia made arrangements to purchase a burial plot beside her parents’ graves. This way, she thought, when the time came, she’d have a place to belong, one close to them.

After leaving the cemetery, Celia sold off her parents’ inheritance and every gift Lucas had ever given her, converting it all into a significant sum of money.

This money, she decided, would go back to Lucas as repayment for the ten years he had spent raising her.

Celia transferred all the funds into a single bank card and returned to the villa late that evening. Lucas wasn’t home, which worked perfectly for her plan.

Quietly, she slipped into his study, hiding the card in one of the desk drawers. Just as she was about to leave, her gaze fell on the disarray in the room—likely left behind from his rush to finish work.

With a sigh, she decided to tidy up the space. She carefully organized the scattered documents, but as she worked, her hand accidentally tugged open one of the drawers.

She was about to close it again when something inside caught her eye, freezing her in place.

Inside the drawer was a thick stack of letters. Love letters.

Celia’s breath hitched as she stared at them in disbelief. Without thinking, she reached out and picked them up, a mix of curiosity and astonishment flooding her mind.

Could Lucas have written these?

Lucas... writing love letters?

To whom?

Questions swirled chaotically in her head, tangling her thoughts. Lost in her confusion, she didn’t hear the sound of footsteps until it was too late.

Lucas had returned and now stood at the doorway. His sharp eyes immediately landed on the letters in her hands, and his expression shifted dramatically.

“What are you doing going through my things?” he demanded, his voice cold and laced with a rare tremor of panic.

Chapter 6

Hearing Lucas’ sharp question, Celia snapped back to reality.

Noticing the love letters still in her hands, she quickly placed them back into the drawer and mumbled an explanation. “I was just trying to tidy up for you…”

But her attempt to explain didn’t soften his mood.

Instead, his tone grew colder. “Did you look at the contents?”

Celia froze, surprised that this was what he cared about most. Seeing his expression darken further, she quickly shook her head. “No, I didn’t read them.”

Her answer seemed to ease his tension slightly, but when he spoke again, his voice was still edged with irritation.

“Leave. And don’t touch my things again without my permission.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” she murmured, lowering her head. Without another word, she turned and left the study.

Back in her room, Celia lay on her bed, but her mind kept drifting back to the letters she had seen in the study.

She couldn’t recall ever hearing about Lucas being interested in someone. As far as she could remember, there had never been another woman in his life apart from herself and Yvonne.

So, who were those letters for?

Could they have been for her?

The thought sent her mind spiraling until exhaustion finally pulled her into sleep.

When she woke again, it was the middle of the night. A faint sound from the next room stirred her, and she realized Yvonne had returned.

Instantly alert, Celia moved closer to her door. The proximity allowed her to hear their conversation clearly, especially since they hadn’t shut their door.

Yvonne’s voice came first, brimming with delight. “I was only gone for two days, and you wrote me so many love letters?”

Her excitement was palpable, and it was quickly followed by Lucas’ response, warm and indulgent. His voice carried the same gentle tone he used to reserve for Celia in the past, back before she confessed her feelings to him.

“What? You don’t like them?”

Yvonne laughed softly, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I love them. You’ll have to write me one every day from now on.”

As Yvonne’s final, teasing words fell, the sound of muffled intimacy drifted from the next room, followed by the soft click of a closing door.

Celia quickly stepped away from her own door, retreating back to her bed. Lying down, she shut her eyes, but her face had turned pale.

For a brief moment, she couldn’t help but find herself both pathetic and laughable.

“Celia Quinn, what are you even thinking?” she whispered bitterly.

When she had seen Lucas’ panicked expression earlier, an absurd thought had flashed through her mind—that maybe, just maybe, those love letters were written for her.

But now, after hearing his conversation with Yvonne, she knew just how ridiculous that idea had been.

By the time the countdown reached three days, it was Yvonne’s birthday.

Lucas spared no expense, throwing an extravagant party in her honor. The guest list was long, filled with prominent figures, because this celebration wasn’t just about Yvonne’s birthday.

During the evening, Lucas made another major announcement:

In the near future, he and Yvonne would be hosting their engagement party.

As the crowd swarmed forward with congratulations, Celia stood frozen for a moment, stunned. Did he truly care for Yvonne this much?

In just three short months, he had already decided to marry her.

She let out a bitter laugh, glancing down at the gift in her hands. What she had originally planned as a parting gift for Lucas had, unexpectedly, turned into a congratulatory present for his engagement.

As the line of well-wishers thinned, Celia finally stepped forward, holding the small package out to him. She had resolved long ago to wish him happiness, no matter who he chose to be with.

But now, standing here, forcing those words out felt far more painful than she had imagined.

“Uncle,” she began, her voice low and strained, “congratulations on your engagement... I hope you’ll have a long and happy life together.”

Chapter 7

Lucas accepted the gift from her, his expression unreadable.

“You can save your congratulations for the engagement party.”

Engagement party?

But she wouldn’t live to see that day.

Celia lowered her head, silent and unresponsive. She neither explained nor argued, merely handed over the gift before walking away. Finding a quiet corner, she sat down alone.

Lucas didn’t pay much attention as she left. He remained by Yvonne’s side, leading her through the crowd with a gentle smile. He patiently introduced her to every guest offering their congratulations, his demeanor full of warmth and affection.

Before long, after greeting everyone, Lucas and Yvonne disappeared from the crowd altogether.

Celia lingered for a while longer before standing and quietly slipping out of the banquet hall.

She had always disliked these crowded, noisy gatherings. In the past, Lucas would notice her discomfort and quietly lead her away halfway through. Now, that habit hadn’t changed but the person he chose to leave with had.

The area outside the hall was spacious, and Celia recalled there being a garden pavilion nearby. She decided to take a walk there, seeking a moment of solitude.

However, as she approached, she realized the pavilion wasn’t empty.

Drawing closer, she saw Lucas and Yvonne there, speaking softly.

“Lucas,” Yvonne’s voice carried a playful, almost childlike tone. “When we get married, I want my own garden pavilion. Can I have one?”

Her words were met with Lucas’s indulgent chuckle. “Why wait until after we’re married? I’ll have it ready for you now.”

“Really?” Yvonne’s eyes sparkled with delight, her cheeks flushing pink as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.

But Lucas turned his head at the last moment, and her kiss landed unexpectedly on his lips.

The accidental gesture deepened the flush on Yvonne’s face, and she pulled back in a flustered attempt to recover. Before she could retreat, Lucas wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to deepen the kiss.

From a distance, Celia stood frozen, watching the scene unfold.

Perhaps it was because she was already dead, or perhaps it was because she had steeled herself to wish them happiness.

But no matter how prepared she thought she was, the sight still struck something deep within her.

As Celia watched the scene unfold, the pain she had anticipated didn’t come.

Instead, an unfamiliar sense of calm settled over her.

She didn’t disturb them. Turning away, she left quietly.

She wandered aimlessly through the property, eventually finding herself near the swimming pool.

Celia stood still, gazing blankly at the crystal-clear water, lost in thought.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before a familiar voice broke through her reverie.

“Watching all this must really hurt, doesn’t it?”

She turned to find Yvonne standing behind her.

Celia frowned slightly, confused by her words.

“Lucas told me everything,” Yvonne continued, her tone laced with feigned understanding. “He told me about your... feelings for him. Honestly, I get it. You’re just a young girl, and Lucas is so incredible. It’s normal to have a little crush.”

Her words seemed understanding, but the malice in her eyes betrayed her true feelings. “But it’s also not normal, is it? After all, what kind of child falls for their own uncle?”

Celia hadn’t expected Lucas to share her feelings so openly with Yvonne.

A wave of shame and bitterness washed over her. She didn’t need him to reciprocate her feelings. She had even resolved to bless their future together.

But why did he have to trample on her dignity like this?

She remained silent, refusing to respond, but Yvonne wasn’t done.

Her voice took on a hint of smugness as she added, “Lucas doesn’t like you. Honestly, I don’t have the patience to keep up this whole family charade with you either. Soon, I’ll be marrying into the Shaw family, and I don’t want a clingy child lingering between us.

“If you’re willing to leave, I can give you some money. You’re an adult now. It’s time you learned to be independent.”

Celia’s face turned pale at her words. After a long pause, she finally replied in a hoarse voice, “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone in three days.”

Her concession didn’t soften Yvonne’s attitude.

Instead, it only emboldened her to push further.

“Why wait three days? Why not leave now?”

For a moment, Celia was at a loss for words. How could she explain that three days wasn’t the timeline for leaving the Shaw family—it was the time she had left in this world?

Chapter 8

Just as Celia was about to speak, an unexpected commotion unfolded.

Two children, laughing and chasing each other on skateboards, came racing toward the pool.

Neither noticed the people standing nearby until it was too late.

Failing to stop in time, they crashed into Yvonne, sending her tumbling into the pool.

With a loud splash, water erupted from the pool. Celia froze for a moment before snapping back to reality. Ignoring the children, she stepped forward, ready to jump in and help. But before she could move, a figure darted past her.

A powerful force shoved her back, and she stumbled before regaining her balance. Looking up, she saw it was Lucas.

Without hesitation, Lucas stripped off his jacket and dove into the pool. Moments later, he surfaced, pulling Yvonne to safety. Wrapping her in his coat, he turned to Celia, his brow furrowed.

“What happened?”

Before Celia could explain, Yvonne spoke first, her voice soft and trembling, laced with just the right amount of vulnerability.

“It’s my fault. I must have upset Celia, and she pushed me into the pool. But it’s okay—I’m fine, don’t be angry with her…”

Her frail tone and shivering frame painted a convincing picture, and despite the words of forgiveness, her statement sounded more like an accusation.

Lucas’ expression darkened further. His accusing gaze shifted to Celia, and she felt the weight of his judgment.

“I didn’t push her. It wasn’t me—it was…” Celia stammered, turning to find the children who had caused the accident. But a glance around revealed they had already disappeared.

Her voice faltered, and the brief pause sealed her fate.

“If not you, then who? Me? Or are you going to claim she somehow fell in on her own?” Lucas’ voice was sharp, cutting. “Celia Quinn, I thought you were just a little spoiled, but now I see you’re completely out of line. You’ve got no shame at all!”

The words hit her like a thunderclap, echoing painfully in her mind.

No shame.

He knew, better than anyone, how much that phrase haunted her. After her parents’ deaths, the cruel taunts from schoolmates—mocking her for being a “shameful child without parents”—had left scars.

Back then, Lucas had been the one to stand up for her.

And now, he was the one wielding those very words like a weapon against her.

Her lips moved as if to say something, to defend herself, but no sound came out. Lucas didn’t wait. He turned away, carrying Yvonne in his arms and leaving without a backward glance.

With the host long gone, the party quickly lost its purpose. The crowd dispersed, leaving Celia to wander home, her heart heavy and her mind adrift.

That night, she couldn’t sleep. She called Lucas and sent him messages, desperate to explain what had really happened. But as the hours dragged on, the silence from him was deafening.

It wasn’t until dawn the next morning that Lucas returned to the villa, Yvonne at his side.

“Uncle, I didn’t push her! It was two kids—they were playing near the pool and accidentally knocked her in!” Celia rushed forward the moment she saw them, her voice pleading.

Lucas didn’t respond. He simply kept walking, pulling Yvonne along with him as if Celia wasn’t even there. He didn’t spare her so much as a glance.

Panicking, she stepped in front of him, blocking his path, her eyes red with unshed tears. “Can’t you believe me just this once? You used to… you always trusted me.”

Her voice trembled, breaking slightly with emotion. It was enough to make Lucas pause.

In the past, when she had no one else, Lucas had been her everything. He had given her the security and love she needed to survive. And whenever something went wrong, he would always take her side without question.

She had once asked him why, when everyone else accused her of lying, he still believed her. His answer had been simple, “Celia, I raised you. I might not know everyone else, but I know who you truly are.”

But now, as she stood before him, desperate for that same trust, Lucas remained silent. After what felt like an eternity, he finally moved but only to push her aside.

“Get out of the way.”

He didn’t push her hard, but Celia staggered and fell to the ground.

Seeing her collapse so easily, Lucas froze for a moment, guilt flashing in his eyes. He quickly bent down to help her up, but when his hand touched hers, he stopped, his expression shifting to one of alarm. He realized that her body temperature was abnormally low.

“Why is your hand so cold?”

His voice was filled with unmistakable concern, but when Celia fumbled for an explanation, unable to provide an answer, Lucas grabbed her hand to check for himself.

What he discovered left him stunned. He couldn’t feel her pulse.

Just as he was about to question her, Yvonne, who had been standing quietly behind him, interrupted.

“Celia, even if you’re upset about Lucas spending time with me, pretending to be sick just to get his attention isn’t the way to go.”

Her words landed like a dagger, and the worry in Lucas’ eyes instantly hardened into fury.

“You pushed Yvonne into the pool, and now you’re pretending to be ill just to manipulate me? The only way I’ll even consider forgiving you is if you apologize to Yvonne right now!”

The ticking of the clock on the wall marked each passing second, weighing heavily on Celia’s heart. She didn’t have much time left, and now she was wasting it in a cold war she couldn’t win.

Her face pale and expression numb, she didn’t bother to argue further. “Fine, I’ll apologize.”

She stood, her head bowed and eyes red-rimmed, and mumbled a soft, “I’m sorry,” in Yvonne’s direction.

Then she looked up at Lucas, her gaze hollow and lifeless, as though every ounce of fight had drained from her.

“Uncle, is this enough? Will you forgive me now?”

Lucas’ jaw tightened, her words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. She looked utterly defeated, as though bearing a pain so heavy it might break her. Her shoulders trembled faintly, and her watery eyes glistened with a sadness so raw it was suffocating.

But his anger refused to waver, and after a long, tense silence, he finally spat out five cold words, “Don’t let it happen again.”

Chapter 9

On the final day of the countdown, Celia came downstairs to find Lucas and Yvonne at the door, preparing to head out. She hesitated for a moment before calling out to him.

“Uncle, I know you’re busy, but could you come back tonight for dinner? Just one meal—just the two of us.”

She wanted to bid him a proper goodbye.

Her eyes were filled with reluctant longing, a quiet plea. But the moment Lucas heard her words, he instinctively assumed it was another attempt at a confession and was ready to refuse.

Before he could speak, Yvonne patted his hand, her tone light and understanding. “It’s fine, I’ll catch up with some friends tonight. It’s been a while. You’re her guardian. Don’t hold grudges with a kid over such trivial matters.”

With her gentle persuasion, Lucas eventually agreed.

Celia got the answer she wanted, yet the ache in her chest only deepened.

She stood silently by the door, watching as they got into the car and drove off, the sound of the engine fading into the distance. Suppressing the wave of emotions churning within her, she turned and went back inside.

She’d heard that when someone passes, their belongings are often cleared away to bring closure. Since it was her last day, she didn’t want to burden Lucas with handling her things. She started sorting through everything she owned, gathering it all to discard.

Her room was filled with traces of Lucas.

From her toiletries to the clothes on her back, everything had been chosen and provided by him.

At first, Lucas hadn’t been so meticulous in caring for her. Most of her daily needs were left to the housekeeper and his assistant.

That changed after one fateful incident: the housekeeper had been neglectful, and his assistant, overwhelmed with work, failed to notice when Celia came down with a fever. She had grown so ill that by the time Lucas returned home, her fever had left her burning up and barely coherent.

The doctor later said that if Lucas hadn’t arrived when he did, her fever might have left her with lasting damage. From that day forward, Lucas handled her care personally, never delegating her well-being to anyone else again.

Shaking herself free from her thoughts, Celia looked around at the belongings she had carefully packed away. A quiet sadness settled over her.

From this moment on, the world would no longer have a place for her.

She cleaned the house meticulously, leaving everything spotless except for the wardrobe, still sealed with tape.

She wondered what Lucas’ reaction would be when he found her body inside. Would he be sad?

With her gone, no one would be there to cling to him, to say things he didn’t want to hear. Surely, without her, Lucas would feel relieved. Maybe even happy.

After tidying the house, Celia turned her attention to preparing what would be her last meal with Lucas.

Cooking wasn’t something she was good at.

Back when she lived with him, they either dined out or Lucas cooked himself. Once, Celia had expressed her desire to learn how to cook, saying she wanted to prepare a meal just for him. But after a mishap where she burned herself with hot oil, Lucas had forbidden her from attempting to cook again.

Still, she had secretly taken lessons, hoping to surprise him. But before she could master the skill, the accident happened, turning her into nothing more than a lingering soul.

Now, at least, she no longer had to worry about being burned by oil.

It took her five long hours, but Celia finally managed to prepare a lavish spread of dishes. Sitting by the dining table, she waited patiently. The food cooled, she reheated it, then waited again. But Lucas never came home.

She sent him messages, but he didn’t reply. She called him once, twice, but each time, the phone went unanswered.

When the call automatically disconnected for the third time, she stared blankly at her phone, only to see a notification pop up on her social media feed. It was a new post from Yvonne.

A sinking feeling gripped her chest as her trembling fingers opened the post.

The image showed two plane tickets. The caption read, “True love is when I say I want to see the snow in Winter Town, he drops everything to take me there.”

The moment Celia read the post, her face went pale. Her hands shook as she dialed Lucas’ number again. This time, he finally answered.

“Did you go to Winter Town with her? You promised me you’d—”

Before she could finish, a woman’s voice interrupted her from the other end. It was Yvonne.

“Celia, did you really think Lucas would go back for you? Stop deluding yourself. The only thing you should be doing now is packing up and leaving Lucas’ house for good.”

With that, Yvonne hung up, not giving Celia a chance to respond.

The beeping tone of the disconnected call lingered in the air, echoing in Celia's ears. She sat silently for a long while, unmoving, until the clock struck midnight.

With the chime of the hour, she stood, calmly picking up the now-cold dishes from the table. Without hesitation, she dumped everything into the trash.

It was then that a chilling voice, belonging to the King of the Underworld, echoed from above, carrying a cold, otherworldly air.

“Celia Quinn, your seven days are up. Do you regret making this deal with me?”

The grim, icy words seemed to fill every corner of the villa. As they faded, Celia let out a faint, bitter laugh. Her soft voice broke the silence.

“There are disappointments, but no…, I don’t regret the choice.”

She walked to the calendar and tore off the final page of the countdown. Her voice was steady but resolute as she murmured, “Let’s go.”

As soon as the words left her lips, she watched her body begin to fade.

She raised her hand, staring as her transparent fingers began to dissolve, bit by bit. The ethereal glow spread to her arms, legs, and then her entire body.

Piece by piece, she vanished into nothingness.

Just before the end, Celia turned her gaze toward the distance. A faint smile touched her lips, bittersweet and fleeting.

“Goodbye, Uncle.”

This time, the farewell was forever.