Knowing James Horne's identity, she didn't have a starstruck expression in her eyes, nor was there any fear on her face. When other women saw him, they either swooned or were frightened by the chill that he emitted. This Miss Hughes seemed to be unfazed by these things.

"I'm off. If there's anything wrong with your head, remember to see a doctor, okay? I can help you with the medical expenses." Rebecca Hughes waved at James Horne, left without a backward glance, and turned to walk towards the front yard.

James Horne scowled as he watched her retreating figure, his hand still covering the spot where he had been struck. Damn high heels, they hurt like hell!

But it did give him a glimpse of Miss Hughes'... playful side. No wonder everyone talks about Miss Hughes with such an exasperated look. This girl is truly a rare breed.

He diverted his gaze from Rebecca and glanced at the shattered wineglass on the floor. James Horne dropped his hand from his head, took a step, and also headed toward the front yard.

The Wine Party was finally coming to an end, with guests saying their goodbyes one after another.

By the time he returned to the house, he happened to see Uriel Hughes bidding farewell to his father and mother along with Rebecca. Rebecca seemed quite thrilled, eager for release, a feeling quite similar to his own current mood.

Seeing him come in, Uriel Hughes nodded at him, a form of greeting.

They were all Businessmen; even without personal connections, they still recognized each other.

Uriel Hughes was probably around thirty-four or thirty-five years old. At just one hundred seventy-three centimeters, he wasn't particularly tall, but he exuded a mature and steady aura, his sharply defined face bearing the marks of experience. When the Hughes parents passed away, he must have been only sixteen or seventeen. Having shouldered the burden of his family's shipping business, he was considered a miracle in the business world.

Rebecca then pointed at James's head, blinking her phoenix eyes, telegraphing with her gaze that he should apply medicine to his head.

James Horne ignored her and merely nodded at Uriel.

Uriel Hughes led Rebecca away. He had brought his sister to the Horne Family's Wine Party without much hope. With a family as prominent as the Hornes, his sister's particular disposition was not likely to move the hearts of those young masters.

After all the guests had left, and because the night was deep, James Horne did not leave either but went upstairs instead.

And so an evening passed. Darkness is just a matter of a few hours; sleep through it, and it's gone.

「Early morning, when the chill is heaviest.」

The sun had not yet risen, and the sky was overcast, looking as if it might rain. It does rain in winter, but usually just a drizzle. Don't be fooled by the drizzle, though; when it comes, it can cause the temperature to drop even lower, making people feel colder. And that kind of rain often lasts for several days, becoming irritatingly persistent.

Rachel Bailey woke up early, but she wasn't in a hurry to go out for business. After all, the Chic Attire Fashion Boutique wouldn't open that early. Furthermore, she had promised Hansen Ruiz that she would spend the entire day with him, so business would have to wait until tomorrow.

These past few days, I've been considering a change in my career. Selling clothes brings in money, but it often requires me to stay at my stall, leaving little time for dates with Hansen Ruiz. I don't want Hansen Ruiz to have to come to the fashion boutique to find me every time because whenever he does, the other stall owners stare, and I become the target of their envy, jealousy, and sarcastic remarks. Alas, there's no helping it. What can I do, being so ordinary? An ordinary woman like me somehow won the love of an extraordinary man. If others weren't envious and jealous, the sky would probably rain red! So, I'm thinking about changing my profession. But what could I do that would bring in easy money without me having to be stuck there all day? I'm still mulling it over.

At the moment, she was wearing a beige trench coat, her shoulder-length hair cascading down. There was no use tying it up into a ponytail; it was cold, and leaving it down was warmer. She wore beige trousers too, as she wandered through the Shopping Mall.

She wanted to buy some vegetables to make breakfast herself and invite Hansen Ruiz over.

Thinking of Hansen Ruiz, Rachel Bailey couldn't help but smile softly to herself.

Surely, women in love are all like this; our hearts and minds are occupied by thoughts of our boyfriends all day long. Just this morning, Hansen Ruiz's name has already floated through my mind countless times. However, Hansen Ruiz is so good to me; it's truly hard to ignore his name even if I wanted to.

Wandering through the Vegetable Section, she noticed how each bunch of greens was exorbitantly priced. Gazing at the rice, meat, and other items, it seemed they were practically robbing people. Rachel Bailey couldn't help but think: In the village where I was born, fields were plentiful, and every household grew lots of green vegetables. Their vegetables were definitely safer and more delicious than those wholesaled from the city markets or the mall. People shouldn't assume that all vegetables in the city markets are safe just because they come from large vegetable farms; in truth, many are very unsafe. The vegetables from those farms are heavily dosed with growth enhancers, which is why they grow faster than those cultivated by farmers for themselves—it's because of all the chemicals they use. Of course, on the surface, they still look like vegetables, and they even have a beautiful color, misleading people into thinking they are safe to eat. The vegetables grown by farmers for their own use are mostly fertilized with farmyard manure, contain few toxins, and are the truly 'green' vegetables.

Rachel Bailey thought: The villagers in my hometown grow so many vegetables that it's often too much for one family to consume, yet too little to make selling it worthwhile. As a result, they usually feed the excess to chickens and ducks or throw it into fish ponds. Very few take their surplus to the town market. If I could gather all the vegetables grown by the villagers, wouldn't that be a substantial amount? People in the countryside tend to grow similar types of vegetables. If I bought them, transported them here, and resold them, couldn't I make a profit? City dwellers have incredibly discerning palates; they can tell good from bad with a single bite. My vegetables would be genuinely 'green.' Once people tried them, they'd recognize the quality and willingly come back for more. With repeat customers, I could continue to source vegetables and resell them to the stall owners in the market, couldn't I? This kind of resale business could be done in half a day, leaving plenty of time for dates. Making money and dating, getting the best of both worlds—how wonderful! Besides, my family home in the countryside is just a few hours' drive away; I could make a round trip in a single day. I grew up there, so everyone knows me. I'd be bringing them good news, a way to earn extra money. They'd surely be willing to sell me their surplus vegetables. And besides vegetables, there's rice, soybeans, sweet potatoes... basically, all sorts of crops are grown in the countryside.